Crew Princess (Crew Series Book 2)

by Tijan

  “You’re telling me now?” My voice was barely there.

  He gazed at me with an intense expression, then suddenly something hard flashed. He let out a long sigh. “Yes. No, the plan wasn’t to tell you today. We were going to let you get through graduation. We didn’t know for sure your reaction, but we were going to wait until you asked.”

  My eyes narrowed. “I’m asking now.”

  “I know you are.” He raised an eyebrow. “I was wondering if I should break the news to you when it’s just me or try to put you off until later when Jordan and Zellman can participate in this talk too.”

  Jesus.

  All three of them had planned this out.

  I was mortified and ashamed all at the same time. I should’ve thought about this. I was graduating, for God’s sakes.

  “Bren.” He moved forward, his finger under my chin. He tipped me up to look at him. “We are not leaving you behind.”

  Yeah. I’d still have three months with them…

  As if knowing what I was thinking, he broke into my thoughts. “And I’m not talking about the summer. We are not going to die like your mother. We are not going to leave you like Channing did. We are not going to prison like your father. We are not a family you’re going to lose.”

  He angled in, his hands falling to my hips. His forehead lowered, resting on mine. I felt his breath, warming me. “We are your second family, and you are not going to lose us.”

  There was a fist inside of me.

  I felt it now, for the first time, but it had been there. Rooted deep in me. As his words washed over me, it relaxed.

  “We have not pushed you because we know your fear. But yes, we made decisions without you. You weren’t ready, so we did it for you.” He tugged me even closer. “I hope, I really hope, you’re okay with these decisions, but we did it with only love for you. We love you. I love you. Channing loves you.”

  “My brother?”

  He nodded, moving both our heads up and down. His thumb snuck inside the opening in my gown since I hadn’t zipped it closed, and he began stroking over my hipbone, under my shirt. “Heather loves you.”

  “Heather too?”

  I was dying.

  “Zellman. Jordan.” A wry grin at me. “We did it behind your back, and I’m sorry.”

  “What’d you do?”

  “Your brother’s friends still have a house there. They’re going to let us rent it at a discount.”

  What?

  I stiffened, lifting my head.

  They’d really gone the distance behind my back, using my brother for his connections.

  “Well, I hope you guys all have a good time.”

  Together.

  Without me.

  “You’re coming.” He said it flatly, no emotion.

  I narrowed my eyes. “What are you talking about?” I was already shaking my head. “I never applied for college. I know I didn’t get in—”

  “It’s off-campus.” His hands flexed, holding me tight and in place in front of him. “They relaxed their housing restrictions, and freshmen can live off-campus. We’re going. And you’re going.” His eyes narrowed. “You’ll get a job. Whatever. I don’t care what you do, but you’re coming. We’re not doing next year without you. All of us decided. You come, or none of us go.”

  My mouth dried. My lips parted.

  “What?”

  I hadn’t heard him right.

  I’d expected a talk. I’d expected Jordan and Zellman to go to college. Or maybe Cross or one of them would stay behind. I—I was cursing myself. I just hadn’t thought. I’d locked myself up and tried to throw away the key.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “What?” His hand lifted, sliding around my neck. He tilted me toward him again.

  I said it again, my hands hanging at my side. “You guys shouldn’t have had to do this behind my back. You shouldn’t have had to do any of it, wondering how I’d react. I’m sorry for that.” I took a deep, but fucking painful breath. “I shouldn’t have put you in that position.”

  His eyes closed for a second. “You really think I give a shit about that? I love you. I love you. You and me. We’re still crew, no matter what happens.”

  His words were pretty and loving, and for the life of me, they couldn’t wash away the sudden humility I felt.

  That darkness in me, the firefly that liked to come out and keep me company, it had gone away. I didn’t know when it happened—if it was after we saved Alex, or maybe before that. After I stabbed Principal Neeon, after everyone rallied around me, or maybe when I realized Cross loved me. Or maybe it’d just been a slow fading light over the year, through counseling, through letting others in. I didn’t know.

  I just knew I was standing here, feeling ashamed, but also in shock because I was alive.

  The usual fear or panic or even anger that might’ve come after hearing the guys had made a plan behind my back didn’t come. It just didn’t.

  “You okay?” Cross asked.

  “I’m just embarrassed.” They went to Channing about this. Heather too. “But also a whole bunch of other emotions too.”

  At that moment, Harrison walked by, head bent as he shuffled through notecards.

  “Hey, Harrison.”

  He paused, his gown unzipped and his tie swinging to the side. “Yeah?”

  “You’re valedictorian, right?”

  His eyebrows rose. “I’m surprised you knew that.”

  Cross frowned. “What the fuck?”

  It wasn’t a slight. I wasn’t taking it as one. I nodded at him. “Where are you going to college next year?”

  “Yale.”

  Cross was frowning at me. Harrison was frowning at me. After our talk at the buddy-system meeting, we hadn’t spoken again, but it had meant something to me, and I was just now realizing it.

  “Thank you.”

  His eyebrows shot even higher. “For what?”

  That was for me, for now. “Just thank you. And good luck with your speech. I have a feeling it’ll be great.”

  His eyes narrowed slightly, but he shrugged. “Okay. See you guys out there. I think they want us to line up now.”

  There was a slight breeze with a twinge of salt in the air. Hot, but not humid, and why I was noting these things was beyond me, but I was. I knew they were important because this moment was important. This was the day I decided to look forward instead of being paralyzed in place and gripping my loved ones so tightly they couldn’t move forward either.

  I was graduating.

  There was the introduction.

  They played songs, music that I wouldn’t remember.

  A speech from a faculty member.

  A second speech.

  We were all antsy, knowing this was a day we’d remember for years, but also wanting it to be done. I knew there were parties planned afterward. Both Jordan and Zellman had mentioned five different ones. Each of them would have their own party as well, the one their parents threw for them. Cross had refused when his mom offered to have one for him, so she was planning one for Taz next weekend. And Heather had asked if I wanted one too. I’d said no, but I knew they were planning something. Their friends were still in town. We never had that Friday BBQ, so I had a feeling whatever she was planning was going to replace it.

  I waited for the speeches to get done, waited for them to say my name so I could walk across that stage and feel like I accomplished something, but the feeling felt cheap with me. I hadn’t participated, not fully.

  I hadn’t embraced school. I went because I had to. I went because my crew was there, and even though I still wasn’t the happiest with Taz, because she was there too.

  I was forced to be part of the events planning committee, and that was the biggest of my high school activities. The crew had been everything to me, and here I was. A dying breed.

  It was Wolf Crew. We were the last.

  “And now a speech from our valedictorian, Harrison Swartz!” Principal Broghers began the clappin
g, stepping back from the podium as Harrison approached.

  He ran a hand down the front of his gown, a nervous habit because his tie wasn’t showing. Notecards still in hand, he cleared his throat. He took a deep breath. His shoulders rose.

  He gripped the edges of the podium, and even from where I was, I could tell he was nervous.

  Then—a real shocker—his eyes found mine.

  My eyebrows rose.

  Another breath from him, and he settled down.

  He leaned forward into the microphone. “My name is Harrison Swartz, and I have a few things to say about our school…”

  He mentioned students who’d won awards. He mentioned his favorite memories about winning the student council election, about what he’d learned being our class president. He thanked and noted teachers, a few janitors, some of the coaches. He congratulated a few of our sports teams who had won titles, set records, and gone to state to compete. He talked about the current year of politics, and then he paused, his eyes finding mine again.

  His voice dropped, becoming more real, less smooth and polished. “I had a conversation with a person weeks ago that I had never spoken to before, and I never thought I would speak to.” He nodded at me. “Bren Monroe.”

  I felt the attention. A few students in my row glanced down to me, and a few in front of me turned around.

  “And it’s not because of the obvious differences between us. Bren is very beautiful, and while I’m academically successful, I can admit that I’m a bit of a geek.” There was a smattering of laughs. Harrison grinned, ducking his head a bit. “But that’s not the difference I’m talking about, because in normal schools, that would play a part in our vast separation. In another school, Bren might’ve been considered one of the popular girls. In another school, I might’ve been considered well, like I just said, a nerd. That didn’t happen here.”

  He paused again, clearing his throat. His eyes grew serious. “When she came up to me, it was the first time I’d spoken to her. She asked if I was going to be sick.” He laughed lightly.

  “I asked if you needed the bathroom,” I said under my breath.

  The people beside me heard and chuckled.

  “I introduced myself to her, explained who I was and the reason I was at that particular place,” he continued. “She thanked me for my service.” His grin grew. “That made me laugh because here I was, the definition of a geek, and there she was, the definition of ‘other’—and you can take that any way you’d like—but I never expected to be thanked for being student body president.” His grin faded. “Then she proceeded to call me out. It was as if she could see inside of me and was reading my biases against her and her friends. She told me I wished there were none like her in our school, but she also called me out on worrying about what life would’ve been like if they hadn’t been there too. She was right. All of it. I did have stereotypes. I didn’t like having them in our school, but I benefited from them being there too. And then she stopped our conversation because she felt she was making me uncomfortable.”

  A beat. “She was. She had been, but after she moved on, I remained speechless for a moment. I never imagined my first conversation with someone like Bren Monroe would go that way. What she never found out was that she changed my mind. I realized they’re like me. They have fears and insecurities and loves and likes. They’re on social media, though I actually don’t think Bren herself is.”

  He nodded at me. “I think by now, everyone has picked up on what ‘them’ I’m referring to, and while I know there are varying opinions on the system I’m talking about, I can only speak to how they affected my experience as a student in Roussou. Because in Roussou, I wasn’t picked on. I wasn’t bullied in person or online. I didn’t have the typical jocks who might have called me lame or shoved me into a locker—that never happened here. And yes, there were scary moments over the years. Bouts of violence, but in a way, I always knew I was safe. I never walked my hallways worried about getting jumped. I never walked into a bathroom worried I’d get shoved in a toilet. They kept each other in check, and in doing so, they kept everyone else in check. We didn’t really have popular people in our school. There’s always a few exceptions, but in a way, we were all the same. We were equal. We were Normals. And I was one of them.”

  He paused. “I never told Bren that because of her, because of her group, because of her brother, we here were gifted an experience that no other high school was given. Roussou is not like other schools, and I am thankful because if it had been, I don’t know if I would be standing behind this podium, giving this speech, and going to Yale next year. So, thank you.” He stepped back, offered a small smile my way, and returned to his seat.

  The clapping started. Then the cheering.

  I had no words. He didn’t have to share that moment, but he had, with me, with my crew, with all the other crews. Jordan and Zellman were hollering the loudest. I gazed over to where Cross was sitting beside Taz, and he’d already been watching me. His eyes flashed. I saw pride there, and I gazed down. He was holding his sister’s hand, and she was crying, wiping away the tears with a Kleenex.

  Race reached behind Cross’ chair, tugged on Taz’s gown, and she let go of her brother’s hand and linked with Race’s.

  I hadn’t asked. I didn’t know what had transpired after Taz hadn’t left the dinner to be there for him, but they seemed fine now. I supposed time would tell, but time would tell for everyone. Myself included.

  Me and Taz. We’d figure it out. I knew her head was messed up right now.

  Broghers returned to the podium, and the clapping faded. Everyone returned to their seats.

  Line by line, we stood and moved to the end. One by one, we were called up.

  Zellman went first. The cheers were loud.

  I was next. The cheers were even louder.

  Jordan wasn’t far behind me.

  Then Race. Cross. Taz.

  Flashes went off. People whistled. They shouted congratulations, and then the time was done. Our tassels were moved from the right to the left. We took our diplomas, and at the end, we had officially graduated.

  I was in the moment, for once. I felt everything and wasn’t shutting it down—the sadness, the regret, the happiness, even the excitement, and I was blinking back tears when Channing found me.

  “You crying?”

  “No.” I scowled, but one slipped out. “Maybe.”

  He laughed, and picked me up in a hug. “Congratulations, little sister. I love you,” he whispered before setting me back down. Stepping back, he said, “I’m proud of you.”

  Then Heather was there, crying and hugging me.

  Moose was next. Congo. Chad. Lincoln. Scratch.

  There was a line, and I looked over, seeing Cross and Taz standing with their parents. The girlfriend wasn’t there, and neither was Blaise. So it was just their family. And not far away was Jordan with his family, his little sister. Zellman was in a pocket of his own, his mom wiping her face and his grandmother. But he kept looking over at Sunday, who was standing with her parents, her head bowed, a protective hand over her stomach. She still wasn’t showing, but I wondered if they knew by now.

  “You okay?” Channing drew my attention back.

  “What?”

  His eyes were steadfast, his brow wrinkling a little. “You seem different today. What’s going on?”

  I shrugged. “Just…looking toward the future, I guess.”

  His face cleared of all concern, and he shared a quick look with Heather before smiling at me. “Yeah?”

  I nodded. “Yeah.”

  His eyes were sparkling now. “Good.”

  I couldn’t see myself, but I knew my eyes were sparkling back at him.

  Good was good enough for me.

  One week later

  “Bren?” Heather called.

  “Hmmm?” I was on the front porch of Heather’s house. Well, it was still technically hers, but most of her stuff had been transported to our house. The official move was
scheduled for later in the summer. When I went to Cain with the guys, Heather was going to sign the papers so her house would go to her brother. It was a big move. Those seemed to be happening everywhere now.

  Heather opened her screen door as we both heard gravel crunching under tires. A black SUV was pulling in, passing Manny’s and parking in front of us.

  My stomach shifted, tightening, but Heather was all about these new arrivals. A wide smile on her face, she came out and let the door slam behind her. Her hands found her hips just as two doors opened. The football star got out on the driver’s side, and the Olympic runner from the passenger side.

  “Hey!” Heather shouted. “Where’s Logan?”

  “He’s coming in a bit with Taylor,” the runner said. “They were waiting for Nate and Matteo to get here.”

  “Matteo’s coming? Great.”

  I side-eyed Heather, but she seemed genuine. She wasn’t worried about me at all. These guys showed up, and I was mincemeat.

  Jealousy flared, but I stomped it down. That was stupid. They were her good friends. I’d just gotten used to Heather’s undivided attention over the year, and this was a two-minute meeting. I needed to get ahold of myself.

  The female hugged Heather while the guy looked me over, almost exactly the way I’d just eyed Heather.

  My eyes went flat. My lips thinned, and I scooted down in my chair, throwing up my feet on the railing. Whatever, dude. If he was trying to intimidate, he needed to pick someone else. I rolled my shoulders back and lifted my chin up. I was even willing to show a bit of teeth, but the way this guy’s green eyes were cold and emotionless, and all the stories I’d heard about him, I didn’t think he’d care one way or another.

  I could see where all the hype came from, though that was a reluctant acknowledgment. The guy was gorgeous. So was the girl. Both with jet black hair, they could’ve been bookends. She had long slim running legs, and he was built—well, he was a wide receiver. Channing told me he’d had to slim down when he changed football positions. He still seemed like a giant, though.