Crew (Crew #1)

“Come on, Cross!” Jordan rolled his eyes.

“You come on.” Cross pointed at him. “We put that rule in place to save ourselves from stupid drama, and it wasn’t needed. We were in seventh grade, and be honest, you put it in place because you didn’t want Bren and me kissing even back then. You wanted to be the one to kiss her.”

“Wha—what?!” I surged to my feet.

Jordan’s neck was getting red. He clenched his jaw, stiffening. “It’s not like that. It wasn’t like that, Bren.”

Z shot his hand in the air, still grinning. “I always wanted to make out with you, B.”

Well, that was… Okay then. I sat back down, still frowning. “Thanks?”

“But not anymore,” Zellman added. “You’re like my sister now. Crew family. But no lie, I’m hoping to see your tits someday. And it’s probably going to happen, since we all scrap.”

That was Zellman’s new word for fighting. Scrapping. He thought it sounded better, less violent. Why he’d decided that, I’d never know. But we went with it.

“Fine,” Jordan said. “I was young too, and I was stupid, and yes. Cross is right. I suggested that rule because I didn’t want you and Cross to date, but even after I stopped caring, I thought it was a good rule. I still think it’s a good idea.”

I looked to the ceiling.

Cross groaned next to me.

Jordan spoke over us, raising his voice. “But I can see how serious you guys are, and I think it’s a rule that’s going to have an exception. The only crew couple we can have in this crew is Cross and Bren.”

I wasn’t the only one who snorted.

There were no other girls, and all the guys were straight. I had no intention of dating either of those two, but as far as Jordan, it was a win. He was conceding.

“Thank you,” I said.

He nodded, a smile tugging at his mouth. “I’m fully aware you guys wouldn’t have given a shit if we didn’t make this amendment, but it means a lot that you’re pretending to care.”

“I want our crew to officially be a democracy,” Cross added. “No more leader shit.”

Jordan rolled his eyes this time. “Yeah, right. Things will get heated again. You’ll take over, because you’re better at that stuff than me, and when things loosen up, I’ll step up like I’m doing right now. Let’s call a spade a spade. We all know that’s how it’ll be.” He picked up his beer, standing. Gesturing to Zellman and me, he added, “Bren will go rogue, start shit when she gets mad. Z will keep trying to get Sunday’s pussy even though he does every other day—”

“And it’s so good.” Z moaned, closing his eyes and slumping back on the couch. “So warm and tight.”

“—and that’s how we’re going to keep going.” Jordan ignored Z. We all ignored Z. “Stand up, Wolf Crew, and beers up.”

We stood, clinking our beers together and raising them, all pressed together.

Jordan’s voice grew rough. He blinked a few times. “I wouldn’t change our crew for anything. Never fucking change.”

Z piped up, “On three! One, two—”

We all finished together, “Wolf Crew!”





Taz sat on Race’s lap in the middle of a field party—which was actually more of a woods party since we were in a clearing smack in the middle of a forest.

Alex remained away, going to a second and more intensive treatment facility after the first. The cynical side of me wondered if it was done at his lawyer’s urging, as it would show “good faith” that he was trying to rehabilitate himself. The case against him for assaulting Taz hadn’t gone before the judge yet for sentencing.

“And I told Tab it was a bad idea to date college guys. It’s never going to work.” Taz looped her arms around Race’s neck, leaning back and looking up at him.

It wasn’t even a subtle smile from girlfriend to boyfriend. It was a full beam. The girl was stupid in love. I shook my head, catching the pressed lips from the other girls sitting around Jordan’s truck.

Yes. I’m as shocked as anyone, but somehow, Sunday, and even Monica had worn me down so I didn’t immediately turn away when they approached.

But a few minutes was the longest I could last.

Taz was creating a target on herself, because while she might be happy and content, those girls weren’t. After Cross, the next guy on the totem pole was Race, and they liked him. They liked him even more now than they had before. He was wealthy and still in Roussou, so those girls were plotting to break up the two of them.

“So, Bren—” Sunday began.

Nope. I was out. I recognized that smile on her face. She shared a look with Monica, who had been doing a whole lot of that with Cross over the last month.

Looking. Staring. Drooling.

Cross was the same, acting like he never saw it. If a girl stopped him, he kept moving.

But those girls didn’t care about the hints. It was the same shit that had been going on at the beginning of the year. They were more and more hungry for him.

When it had come out that we were together, people stepped back. But it didn’t last long. Some of that was because of us. Some was because of them.

We liked to keep things under wraps in public. Taz was on strict instructions to keep her mouth shut, and Race too. No one else would talk because the only other people on the up-and-up were Jordan and Z. But because Cross and I didn’t act much different than we had before, the whispering had increased the last few weeks.

People were confused, wondering if maybe we weren’t a couple. They wanted Cross to be single, so they were starting to buzz about it.

Cross was at this party, but he wasn’t at my side. Only Jordan sat in this circle with me, right beside me. Z was off trying to get in someone else’s pants because this was the “off” night or day or week, or whatever was happening between him and Sunday.

When she opened her mouth to ask me whatever she was going to ask, I decided not to stick around to see if she was asking for Monica, or for herself, or hell—for most of the female population at our school.

I stood, not giving a shit if that was rude, and tossed back the rest of my beer. It was my third, and I had a nice buzz going.

“I’m out.” I looked at Taz and Race, then met Jordan’s eyes.

He raised his eyebrows, a silent question if I’d come back.

I dipped my head, just the smallest of movements, but it was enough.

He settled back.

I had to come back. The new Ryerson leader was rumored to be showing up tonight. I almost laughed hearing a few guys speculating whether it was a girl, because it wasn’t just our crew who was curious. Everyone was. But thinking back over the Ryerson family, there were only a couple cousins I thought could step up to the plate, but I didn’t think they would. One was either in medical school or planning on attending. Another was in a state softball league for her high school. And there was a third, but I didn’t know much about her. She lived up north. I’d met her once when she came down for a Ryerson family reunion, but it’d been brief. Alex’s mom had said at the time that she was smart and driven.

Maybe her?

I had no idea.

The only thing I did have an idea about was getting some time with Cross, and I wanted him alone.

The rumors were starting to bother me, even though I told myself they shouldn’t. But still, a girl could only hear so much about everyone’s hopes and dreams of dating Cross before her claws came out.

And mine were sharp. I hadn’t fought in a while, possibly too long.

I wandered around the party. Many watched me go past, falling silent. A few tried to draw me in for a conversation. I ignored all of them. They weren’t as scared of me as before. Enough time had passed since they’d seen a fight break out, or sorry, Z—a scrap break out. That meant I hadn’t been flashing my knife around.

I was following a path that led away from everyone when I heard Cross behind me.

“Looking for me?” He fell in step, glancing over his shoulder.

Only a couple people had seen us go. One guy nudged his buddy, and they started snickering.

I rotated swiftly and flicked both my middle fingers at them.

They shut up.