Steel Crew : Books 1-3 (Steel World Box Set Book 7)

by Mj Fields

  “I’ll do my best.”

  “Let’s roll,” Justice grumbles. “Gotta grab our schedules.”

  “I thought they’d already been sent.” I begin digging in my bag for my agenda notebook.

  “Shit got changed,” Patrick tells me then laughs. “Where the hell has your head been the past week?”

  “Don’t you start with me.” I shake my head then nod for the boys to go ahead of us, as they have for years.

  “Nah, Kiki.” Max shakes his head. “Ladies first. We got your backs now.”

  “I’m the oldest,” I remind him.

  “And you’re carrying the youngest.” Justice nods toward the door.

  Amias laughs. “Place looks like fucking Hogwarts. I’m taking the back in case I need to run, Kiki.”

  “It’ll also make them look like they have some manners,” Tris whispers. “It’s all about reinventing the image.”

  I roll my eyes. “Fine.”

  Walking up to the school, I feel queasy. It’s not from the pregnancy or nerves caused by starting a new school. It’s not because those hanging out on the proverbial gilded walkway leading to the stairs of Seashore Academy are staring and whispering—I couldn’t give a damn less. My nerves are for them, for the crew.

  At the top of the stairs, Justice and Patrick grab the double doors and open them.

  As we step inside, we’re greeted by two faculty members.

  The male of the duo smiles tightly. “Welcome to Seashore. I’m the head of the school, Mr. Whitaker.” He waves his hand to his side. “This is the high school principal, Mrs. Crawford. Mr. Ford is the middle school principal here at Seashore and, at times, fills in for Mrs. Crawford.

  “Follow us. We’ll give you a brief tour on the way to the administrative offices where we’ll get you all your new schedules.”

  When they turn, in unison, we all look at each other.

  I whisper, “You all sure about—”

  “Yeah, Kiki”—Patrick smirks—“we are.”

  “The hallway you’re in is the main hall and called The Hall of Achievements. The first two corridors on the left are our middle school hallways. All upper classmen are prohibited from those halls. To the right are grades nine and ten. Grades eleven and twelve classrooms, as well as the lecture halls, are across the courtyard.”

  At the end of the hall, he stops and turns back to address us again, pointing right. “This is Leadership Hall. Administrative and health offices are on the main level, the library is also in this wing, above us. To the left is Excellence. It leads to all three of our gymnasiums, locker rooms, fitness and aquatic centers. Around the quad to the left is the music, performing and visual arts wing. To the left are all the STEM classroom and laboratories. Beyond the main campus is our state of the art stadium, the stables, and open sporting fields.” He looks at us all then nods. “Let’s get your schedules.”

  Inside the office, we’re all handed a binder that contains our schedules, a map, sign-ups for all the spring activities, and dates for tryouts and auditions, as well.

  The bell rings.

  “You have three minutes to get to your homeroom classes. Have a wonderful first day.”

  Once we’re all in the hallway, Justice grumbles, “The fuck? No time to find our lockers, so we have to walk around here like Dora the fucking Explorer?”

  Patrick laughs. “Bro, we’re at a normal sch—”

  “There is nothing normal about this school,” Brisa snaps while looking around nervously.

  “Okay, take pictures of your schedules, send them in the crew group chat, and we’ll figure it out,” I tell them all.

  I look at Brisa. “Put your no-one-fucks-with-me face on and make it work.”

  I look at Tris. “You’re probably gonna be in some of Max’s classes, so you’ll be fine.”

  She nods up and down quickly.

  “Okay, send your schedules, and I’m pretty sure we have lunch together.” I lean in and whisper, “Forever Steel.” Then hold up my middle finger.

  I walk into homeroom just as the bell rings while everyone sits at tables, not individual desks, and all eyes obviously fall on me.

  “Ms. Steel, welcome to Seashore Academy. I’m Mr. Thompson. Please find a seat.”

  “Thank you.”

  I glance around really quick and see one empty chair at the end of a table. I cringe when I realize I have to sit by the douche leaning back in his chair with his hands clasped behind his neck, looking me up and down like I’m going to be his next meal.

  Fucker hasn’t a clue.

  I walk over, drop my backpack, and sit next to him. Then I hear an audible gasp from the class.

  He snickers and sits forward in his chair, holding out his hand to shake mine.

  I look him up and down as I sit, and a wolfish grin spreads over his face.

  “Like what you see, Ms. Steel?”

  “Campus is cool, can’t really judge my peers or the faculty, but so far everything seems a little extra.”

  A few people close enough to hear, who are not whispering about me, snicker at my whispered response.

  “I think you misunderstood the question, Miss Steel. I was asking about me.”

  “Understood it perfectly.” I give him a tight smile then turn away.

  He leans toward me. “I think a girl like you would like the extra I have to offer.”

  “I think a boy like you hasn’t a shot in hell with a girl like me.”

  “Miss Morales-Ortez, you’re late,” the teacher says, and I look away from the fuck boy whose ass I was just getting ready to rip apart.

  “Yes, well, some wanna-be parked their wanna-be-me car in my spot,” a girl with a bigger mouth than stature snips.

  “You don’t have a designated spot, Gabrielle,” he sighs. “Now have a seat.”

  Her eyes swing right to me, and she glares. “Any chance you own a red BMW?”

  “Gabrielle, have a seat.”

  “Seems like wanna-be-me has taken my parking spot and my seat.”

  “Got an empty lap you can—”

  “That’s enough,” Mr. Thompson says. “Gabrielle, grab one from across the hall.”

  She looks at the girl across the walkway from me, and she nods quickly and starts to stand.

  “Don’t do it,” I tell her.

  She glares at me and stands. “Take my seat, Gabby.”

  “Nina, that’s not necessary,” Mr. Thompson tells her then sighs. “I’ll get the chair.”

  When he leaves the room, the dick next to me whispers, “What are you going to do now, do-gooder?”

  I look at him and roll my eyes. “Watch and learn.”

  He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “You’re about eleven years behind. You need a lesson on the hierarchy here. I’m willing to give you one … for free.”

  “I don’t want a damn thing from you,” I whisper-hiss at him.

  He chuckles. “Lesson one, everyone in this place wants something from me.”

  “Pretty sure that’s no longer the case.”

  “You’ll fall in place,” he sighs, acting bored with the conversation. “Everyone eventually does.”

  I can’t help leaning forward and narrowing my eyes at him. “You have no fucking clue who I am.”

  I hear a voice clear and look up to Gabrielle Morales-Ortez standing there with her arms crossed, tapping her foot. I don’t say a word.

  “Don’t just sit there. Move,” she hisses.

  “I’m not moving my car, or my ass,” I say as evenly tempered as possible.

  She gasps then looks at the asshat next to me. “Do something about this, Harrison!”

  Harrison freaking Reeves, Truth’s crush. Hell no!

  He shrugs. “You’ve been dethroned, Gabby. Accept it. Move on. I am.”

  “Look, Gabby, I’m not moving based strictly on principle. I’ve never liked a bully, nor allowed myself to be bullied, and I’m not about to start letting that shit happen now. But as far as Princ
e Charming over here, he’s all yours.”

  Germany

  Brandon

  When my phone vibrates in my pocket, I know it’s the alarm I set for when I was pretty sure Katy would be home from school. We shared locations on our phones, but I wasn’t sure it was accurate, since it said she was still at our place.

  I hit up FaceTime to test it out and because it’s been ten hours since I last saw her.

  She answers immediately, and when she sees me, she closes her eyes, puts her hand on her chest, and whispers, “Hey.”

  Unable to say anything for a few seconds, I just look at her. She looks stunning, fucking breathtakingly beautiful, but she’s never as more beautiful as she is without a stitch of makeup on her face.

  “Tell me you had a great first day, Katy.” Swear to God above, I sound like I’m begging.

  She opens her eyes and flips the camera around. I see an old, impeccably kept building.

  “Babe, if it wasn’t light there and dark here, I’d swear that you were just down the road.”

  She turns the camera around to face her now, and she’s smiling.

  “It’s beautiful, but nothing is as stunning as that sight right there.” I touch the screen.

  “That’s because you’re not looking at the same thing I am.”

  “Oh, yeah? And what’s that?” I ask, unable to hide the damn smile.

  “My man.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Mmmhmm. He’s incredibly sexy, incredibly talented, and all mine.”

  “Always.”

  “I love you,” we say at the same time and both laugh.

  “What are you still doing at school?”

  “Waiting on Truth, Brisa, and Tris.”

  “Where’s Max?”

  “He left with the boys.”

  “So, why are they still there?”

  “Last day of audition for the school’s musical, and Truth made Brisa and Tris audition with her.”

  “And why didn’t you?”

  She shrugs. “It’s at the end of March.”

  “Please tell me you aren’t blowing this off because I’m gonna be home.”

  She laughs. “No, I’m blowing this off because I’m going to, one, be the size of a house, and two, the stage isn’t my thing, cowboy.”

  “Been meaning to ask you what your passion is, Katherine Steel?” I take a drink from my water bottle as she scratches her head as if she’s in deep thought. She’s playing. I know she is.

  “Your dick.”

  Water blows all over my screen, and she starts laughing.

  “Fuck, Katy.” I laugh as I wipe my screen. “You make me wreck another phone, and I swear.”

  “You swear what?” She laughs, and I hold the phone up so I can see her.

  “I swear …” I shrug. “Swear I’ll love you harder.”

  Her bottom lip pouts out.

  “Don’t go doing that. Smile, Katy Steel.”

  She smiles and crosses her eyes. “Like that?”

  “That works for me.”

  “You’re in deep, Brand Falcon,” she jokes.

  “Getting deeper every day.”

  “Same.”

  “You know what else is the same about you and me?”

  She shakes her head and smiles. “Tell me.”

  “We both hold back our feelings, our fears, our wants, our desires, and write them down raw.” I hold up one of her notebooks, and she leans closer to the screen. “You’re a writer, Katy Steel.”

  “I’m gonna kill whoever gave that to you.”

  I shake my head. “This is your passion, and you’re really damn good.”

  “Put that away.”

  I shake my head. “Not a chance, because I finally figured out what you and I can do together that’s meaningful besides—”

  “Besides what I’m never doing again unless you—”

  “Katy, you’re real damn good, and I have about four awards saying I know what I’m talking about.”

  I see her eyeing the screen.

  “Don’t you dare hang up on me, Katy. You do, and I’m cancelling this tour and—”

  “Don’t be stupid.” She scowls.

  I smile and hold up the book. “Same, babe.”

  “That girl is such a twat.” I hear Truth grumble, and Katy looks behind her.

  “Katy.”

  She looks back at me.

  “I love you.”

  She sighs and shakes her head. “I love you, too, creeper.”

  “I’m gonna get some sleep. If it’s a decent hour, I’ll call you when I wake up.”

  She leans in, scowling. “I don’t care what time it is—call me.”

  “Love you.”

  “Love you,” she says, and then she smiles.

  After we disconnect, I grab my guitar and start playing with my notes and her lyrics.

  I see you out tonight, you’re out with her again.

  And it’s seeming like I don’t know my own friend

  Watching you with her just feels so wrong

  But one look and I know where you belong

  She don’t know you like I do

  She don’t see you the same

  But when I look into your eyes

  It’s like a moth to a flame

  Wrong shoes, wrong hair, wrong face

  The wrong half-hearted embrace.

  Don’t know what you see in her.

  Wrong smile, wrong waste of energy

  Just thinkin’ ’bout the way things could be.

  If you didn’t love the wrong girl.

  Didn’t love the wrong girl.

  Didn’t love the wrong girl.

  See you dancin’ with her through the smoke and lights

  Thinkin’ ’bout our talks on late nights.

  But when you move together, and I see her twirl.

  She don’t even see that you’re my whole world.

  She don’t know you like I do

  She don’t see you the same

  But when I look into your eyes

  It’s like a moth to a flame

  Wrong shoes, wrong hair, wrong face

  The wrong half-hearted embrace.

  Don’t know what you see in her.

  Wrong smile, wrong waste of energy

  Just thinkin’ ’bout the way things could be.

  If you didn’t love the wrong girl.

  Didn’t love the wrong girl.

  Didn’t love the wrong girl.

  And on those sleepless nights while I lay thinkin’ about you

  I close my eyes and pretend that none of this is true

  But when I think about the way you look at her

  I realize all my daydreams are just a foolish blur.

  Wrong shoes, wrong hair, wrong face

  The wrong half-hearted embrace.

  Don’t know what you see in her.

  Wrong smile, wrong waste of energy

  Just thinkin’ ’bout the way things could be.

  If you didn’t love the wrong girl.

  Didn’t love the wrong girl.

  Didn’t love the wrong girl.

  TMI

  Katherine

  Yawning, I sit at the dinner table, trying my best to eat some of the chicken parm in front of me but, for some reason, it makes me nauseous.

  “Is the chicken okay?” Tara asks me.

  “I’m sure it is, but it’s not setting well with me.”

  “She misses Falcon’s meat,” Max says, taking a big bite of his, and everyone laughs, except Dad. Max looks at him then at Mom, who’s looking down, shaking her head. “Gross. I was talking about steak.”

  “You better have been.” Dad points his fork at him.

  “Not that I’m sticking up for Max, but he’s not wrong.”

  Dad swings his head very dramatically at me and scowls.

  “No.” I push my plate away. “I haven’t been nauseous in days, and this is making me that way.”

  “Definitely misses Falcon’s—”

>   “Tris,” Zandor scolds her, but does so while obviously fighting a smile.

  “Daddy, they’ve had sex, and sex is a beautiful act—”

  “Between two adults who love each other,” Aunt Bekah cuts her off.

  “So, you and Dad loved each other the first time you boned?” Brisa asks.

  “Of course,” Zandor answers.

  “And you were virgins until then, right?” Amias asks.

  “Hell no!” Xavier laughs.

  Every eye now lands on Xavier.

  “What?” he asks.

  “What?” Zandor asks. “What?”

  Xavier looks around then back at him. “I mean, Carly and Tara were, but—”

  “Xavier, would you shut up?” Taelyn yells. Then she closes her eyes, clears her throat, and calmly asks, “Please?”

  “Irish, we’ve always been honest about everything with Patrick, so—”

  “Patrick is our son. We’re his parents. We aren’t—”

  “Okay. Fine.” He crosses his arms over his chest.

  Zandor leans forward and looks at his kids. “Your mom was in a long-term relationship. She called it off before we met. I fell in love at first sight, but she was on a co—” He stops and looks at Bekah, who is palming her face and shaking her head. Zandor continues, “She was on—” He flinches. “Fuck, Kitten, you’re wearing heels, and that shit hurt.”

  “Sexy kitten,” Tris sighs.

  “What?” Zandor gasps.

  “That’s why you call Mom Kitten. Sex—”

  “No, I call her kitten because she has claws and fought against falling for me. Little did she know, had she not caved, I’d have tied her up and—”

  “Zandor, shut up!” Bekah snaps at him.

  “Easy, Kitten,” he warns.

  “I need wine. Is there more wine? Like an entire barrel of wine?” Bekah asks.

  “Look,” Justice says, “we aren’t babies, and none of you are discreet or ever have been.”

  “I think what we’re all wanting you to take away from this …” Tara pauses.