by Tijan
She didn’t respond, but I saw her nod slowly as she turned her back to me, again facing out toward the river.
With a heavy heart, I trudged over to climb up to where Race’s SUV was waiting for us. Taz was in the back, and as the door opened, she had a blanket ready for me. Heat blasted me, along with the smells of family.
“Who’s that down there?” Race asked.
Zellman snorted. “Some wei—”
I cut him off, firmly, “Someone we owe. She helped us.”
“That’s good.” Race eased the SUV back onto the road, but instead of turning south, he headed north. We’d have to go all the way around Frisco before going east and then south toward Roussou.
We traveled a bit, warming up, before Race spoke. “You guys should know the shit show that happened back there.”
Cross looked over. “What shit show?”
Taz leaned over the seat, draping her arm between her boyfriend and brother. “The cops. Word already got out. They didn’t arrest any Fallen Crest Academy students, or the public students from FC.”
“What?”
“They rounded everyone up and asked them which school they attended,” Race said. “All the Roussou students were arrested.”
“What?!” Jordan jerked up, then grimaced and fell back.
Zellman shot forward. “You serious?”
Race nodded. “Yeah. And there’s video of it. The same account that got Jordan’s attack got the round-up. That’s what they’re calling it.”
“What about the Frisco students who go to Roussou now?”
“Same. The ones who were transferred to Roussou were arrested. Ones who went to Academy or FC Public were all let go.”
“How can they get away with it? Is that even legal?”
Race shrugged. “Who knows? I mean, they could say anything to justify it.”
Shock ran through me, spreading wide. People could get arrested at high school parties. If you were drinking or high, yes. If you were in a crew, you were targeted. But the rest...even the ones who weren’t drinking?
“All of them?” I asked.
Race nodded. “All of them. Sober or not. They were all arrested.”
Cross looked over his shoulder at me, but what was there to say? It felt wrong. It felt unjust. It felt—something was up, that’s what it felt like.
I hardened inside, and the whole feeling that something was coming just grew. I didn’t know what kind of storm it was, but I knew it would be big, and I felt like it was on our doorstep, ready to blow down our home at any moment.
I only hoped we’d all survive it.
“We gotta tell your brother,” Cross said.
I agreed, my neck stiff. “I know.”
The coffee aroma woke me, but it was the smell of toast and the sound of eggs being fried that had my stomach growling. Slipping out from under Cross’ arm, I used the bathroom, brushed my teeth, and slipped on a pair of lounge pants and a shirt before heading down the hallway.
My brother’s tattooed back greeted me first. His tattoos covered most of his body, and he twisted around, a glare on his face.
“I can’t handle this anymore, Bren.” He raised his spatula. “If Cross is going to live here, he needs to move downstairs. You know, where there’s two guestrooms? And a couch. Or, at the very least...” He focused his glare over my shoulder.
I had a second’s warning before a hand curved around my waist.
“At least wake up before I do and sneak back downstairs from now on? What do you say? Can you do that?”
Cross stepped into me, pressing a kiss to my forehead before moving away. He padded barefoot to the kitchen counter, pulling out a stool and taking a seat.
Channing watched him, still glaring. “Right. Sit there, Cross. I’m just here to make you breakfast and also serve it to you.”
Cross grinned, raking his hand through his hair. He left it sticking up, but it looked good.
“Do me a favor.” Cross lowered his head, still smirking at Channing. “Maybe inform us when you’re coming home at night, and I’ll be happy to set my alarm so I can sneak downstairs before you get home.”
Channing shot to his fullest height. He pivoted, setting the spatula down on the counter.
A buzz filled the air. Cross had never challenged Channing before. He had smarted back once or twice, but never like this. Not with a ring of disrespect.
My brother grew taut and rigid. “Are you fucking serio—”
Cross started laughing, dropping his hands and leaning back. “No. God, no. I’m just giving you shit. Yes, I’ll sleep downstairs from now on.”
“Oh.” The fight fled from my brother, but he was slow to pick his spatula back up. His eyes narrowed, he swept me and Cross with a stinging look. “It grates on my nerves.” He pointed the spatula at me. “And don’t give me shit about what I was like when I was your age. I don’t care if I was worse than you. I’m the adult now. This is my house, and…” His irritation was fading. He turned back to the eggs, speaking normally. “You’re better than me, anyway. You’re going to be better than me too, when you’re my age. You’ll have your shit together long before I did.”
Cross and I shared a look, frowning.
“Uh, okay.” I was too tired to argue or ask what he was talking about.
My brother was doing quite well. He hadn’t gone to prison. In my book, that was doing really well. Moving past him, I went to the fridge and grabbed some milk. “Cross, you want juice?”
“Please. Orange juice.”
After that, we did our breakfast routine, or the routine we had when all three of us were in the kitchen together.
It was a small space, so one person typically stayed out. Cross was that person this morning. I pulled out plates and handed them over. Cross took them to the table. Silverware came next. He set the table, getting everything ready for the pan of eggs. I poured the juice, and he set his glass at his spot. I poured the coffee, added milk. Cross put the cups at Channing’s and my plates. I added the condiments, and we’d just sat when Channing finished with the last of the toast. He brought over the heaping plate, carrying the pan of eggs in the other hand.
He sat at the head of the table, and Cross and I sat next to each other.
“No Heather?” I asked as Cross started taking some eggs. I reached for a piece of toast.
Channing pulled two onto his plate. He shook his head, reaching for the honey. “Nope. She had friends come into town last night, so she’s in Fallen Crest.”
Cross stiffened. “Speaking of Fallen Crest…”
He filled Channing in on what happened the night before.
“Are you sure?” Channing asked once he was done. His eyebrows were pulled together, low. “They only arrested Roussou kids?”
“That’s what they said. We haven’t gone to school to question anyone, but if Race said it, I believe him.”
Channing swung his gaze my way. “And that girl, her name was Aspen?”
I nodded. “You know her?”
He shook his head, raising his toast to his mouth. “No, but...there’s something about that name… You get a last name?”
“No. She closed up when I offered to have her come home with us.”
“I’ll swing over there, see if I see her tent or not. If she really is homeless, I can’t let her stay out there.”
I couldn’t imagine what she’d think, seeing a tattooed guy coming around. “Maybe take Heather with you?” Though neither gave off warm and fuzzy feelings.
Channing grunted, grinning. “Yeah. Maybe. I can enlist Ava. She looks like a lamb compared to us.” He sighed, sitting back in his chair. “I don’t like it, any of it. Cops never show up at District Weekend events. It’s a respect for tradition. They used to like when the three towns got along, for the most part.”
“I was thinking it was a setup.”
Channing nodded, picking up his coffee. “Seems like, which means a part of this is my business.” He tossed Cross a raised eyebrow. “
Hear that? Handling the cops is what I do. That’s not high school. That’s community shit. That’s my place.”
Cross shook his head, flicking his eyes upward but not completing the full roll. “Whatever.” But he was grinning. “Still old, in my opinion.”
“Old, my ass.” Channing grinned back before he grew serious again. “For real, though. What’s your plan on the crew front? I know you guys are going to do something.”
Cross glanced at me.
I said, “We’ll figure it out.”
We hadn’t talked about it. Everyone was exhausted after taking Jordan to the hospital and having him looked over. The rest of the night had been somber. Seeing him in the emergency room, being poked and prodded and questioned by a nurse who knew us by name was so normal that it shouldn’t have been. But that was this life.
What happened to Jordan, we were mad about it, we were already swearing vengeance, but underneath all those emotions was something that shouldn’t have been there. Acceptance. And that made me buzz a little, but I didn’t know why. And not a good buzz, a bad buzz. The kind of buzz that was a warning.
The easiest thing to do was shut it down, ignore it.
I was in the ignoring phase right now.
Channing lowered his mug slowly, his eyebrows pulling together. “Something else I should know about? Jordan’s assault doesn’t normally get this no-reaction from both of you.”
Cross lifted his head. “Huh?”
I looked over. He was blinking as if he’d been lost in thought as well.
“Jordan. Your crew member. He was attacked last night.”
“Oh.” Cross leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Yeah. We’ll figure out what to do, our next plan of action.”
Channing leaned back. “Okay…”
It was obvious he didn’t believe us, or he was troubled by the way we weren’t reacting. I was too—in a dark part of me, I was.
And after finishing breakfast and getting ready for school, that thought continued to plague me.
I’d been out for blood the night before, my heart racing. We couldn’t have gotten to Jordan fast enough. We needed to get there, save him, then rain damage on those who’d been hurting him. But my brother was right—retaliation hadn’t been the first thing on my mind this morning—and that was just now setting in. Fleeing and then hiding from the police had taken precedence. Then the ER trip. And I kept remembering the last time we’d been to the emergency room, when we took someone in to save his life.
Round and round.
Cross and I were heading out to his truck when he asked, “You okay?”
I nodded as he started the engine. “Yeah. Just having weird thoughts.” I remembered he’d been out of it earlier too. “How about you? You okay?”
He paused, glancing at me before jerking his head in a nod. “Yeah. I’m totally fine.” Then he pulled away from the curb, and I knew one more thing that morning.
Cross was lying.
Cross grinned as we parked at school. “Look. We have a greeting party.”
Taz, Sunday, and Tabatha were all standing on the curb, backpacks on, purses in hand, and the school in their background. Students milled behind them on the sidewalk.
We parked across the lot, and as soon as we got out, the girls headed over to meet us halfway.
“Finally!” Taz exclaimed, skewering us with a heated look. “We’ve been waiting for thirty minutes, and that’s thirty minutes we’ll never get back—”
Tabatha settled a hand on Taz’s shoulder, a calming smile on her face, “She’s had three espressos this morning.”
“But she’s not wrong,” Sunday muttered, turning away from us and glancing across the lot.
Following her gaze, I saw the rest of their friends, including Lila and the other girl from Frisco who had joined Tabatha’s group. Right up in the middle of them were Jordan, Zellman, and a bunch of jocks.
Cross stepped close to me, and I said under my breath, “Why do I feel like we’re being swallowed by the Normals?”
He laughed shortly, his hand grazing mine. “Uh, because we are.” He nodded at the group. “I’m heading over there. The crew needs to plan later.”
I nodded in response. He was right, and so was Channing. The weird arrests aside, heads needed to roll for what they did to Jordan.
“Jordan couldn’t make a fist this morning. He couldn’t brush his teeth this morning. He called me over so I could help him.” Tabatha said as soon as Cross was a few feet away. She swallowed, blinking away a few tears. Her voice grew hoarse. “I have that video burned in my head. I can’t get it out of my mind. I know I’ve believed the crew system is reckless and stupid at times, but my God, if you guys are looking for temporary members, sign me the fuck up.” She stared at me fiercely, her eyes sparking, her chin raised.
Sunday shook her head. “Are you kidding me? Your boyfriend got attacked. Big fucking surprise. He’s in one of the toughest crews here. They’re a walking target. Welcome to my life the last year, constantly worrying about Zellman. And also, get over yourself. Are you forgetting that other thing we all went through? You know.” She stepped closer to Tabatha, crossing her arms. “When we were all arrested, except these guys.” She clipped her head toward Taz and me.
Tabatha exhaled deeply, closing her eyes. She touched her temples, rubbing in a circle before taking a step back. Looking up, she coughed. “I’ve not forgotten. I’m just worried about someone besides myself.” And with that said, she surged forward, getting right into Sunday’s space. “And what is your problem? We all signed the same piece of paper. We all took the same deal. It’s not even a hardship. We were all excited about it anyway—”
“Wait.” I held up a hand. “What are you guys talking about? What deal? What piece of paper?”
Both girls froze and moved apart. Tabatha’s eyes swam with guilt, and Sunday refused to look at me.
Taz asked quietly, “Sunday?”
Sunday looked up.
“We can’t talk about it,” Tabatha said. “No one can talk about it, but trust me. You will find out…” She cut off, her eyes moving over my shoulder.
I was just turning to look when someone cleared their throat.
Mrs. Cooke, the front office secretary, raised a thinly penciled eyebrow. “Miss Monroe, your presence is requested with the principal.”
“When?”
She sniffed, looking down at me with near disdain. “Now.”
Taz laughed as Mrs. Cooke went back inside, walking around the clusters of students as if she were walking through a field of manure. She kept tugging down her suit coat and smoothing her hands over the sides of her skirt.
“Um... I was with you last night and since you arrived at school today,” Taz noted. “I know you didn’t get arrested, so my question for you: what’d you do to get into trouble?”
I snorted, adjusting my backpack strap over my shoulder. “Who the hell knows? Breathing, maybe?” I jerked my head toward the school. “I’m gonna head in, stash my things first.”
“We’ll come with you.” Tabatha moved to my other side. “The bell’s going to ring soon anyway.” She looked back for Sunday, but she was gone.
Sunday was halfway across the lot to where her other friends were still standing and laughing, draped over the guys. Cross was watching us, and he tilted his head in question.
I shrugged in response, mouthing, “Principal.”
He frowned, but I motioned to Taz.
He nodded.
“Do me a favor?” I asked her as we went inside. “Tell your brother where I was summoned? He’s wondering.”
“Oh yeah. Oh hey!” She touched my arm.
Tabatha stopped, but Taz tucked her chin down. “Um… Can we, uh…” She motioned between us, then rushed out, “It’s about my brother.”
“Oh!” Tabatha moved back, hands up. “Yeah. I get it. I’ll see you guys in class.”
Taz and I continued down the hallway. People noticed me and moved aside, cle
aring a path all the way to my locker. Taz didn’t move to open hers. She fiddled with her backpack, looking down.
Finally, she sighed. “Fuck it. My dad called and left me a message. He’s been trying to get in touch with Cross, too. He…” She looked up, biting her lip. “He and his girlfriend, Marie.” Her nose wrinkled. “But whatever. They invited Cross and me to dinner.”
“When?”
“The first dinner was a few weeks ago. Cross didn’t show up, and you never said anything...” She shrugged. “Anyway, Dad wants to try again. This time, he thinks he has a better chance at having Cross show up if I invite you. He asked Race too.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Are you asking me to go behind Cross’ back?”
“What?” Her eyes widened. “No! God, no! I’m—I don’t know.” She shook her head. “Look, Cross is handling this whole thing how he’s handling it, but I have to show up. You know me. I can’t not show up if my parents ask me for something. Cross, on the other hand, can literally say ‘fuck you’ to them, and he’s still their favorite.” She groaned. “But whatever. That’s beside the point. If Cross doesn’t go, can you still come? For me? I need support. Race, though I love him dearly, is still a boy, and he’s clueless sometimes. He adores his mom and hates his dad, so he doesn’t get the in-between right now. I could just do with another person there to support me, you know?”
Crew code was clear in a situation like this. I couldn’t say or do anything except report to Cross. Girlfriend code...a bit different.
I sighed. “Look, I can’t guarantee Cross will come, but I can come as your friend.”
“You will?!” She shot forward, her hands latching onto my arms. She shook me in excitement. “Are you serious?”
I already knew this was a bad idea. My gut was already backing away. “Yeah. Sure, I will,” I said anyway. “When’s the dinner thing?”
“Oh my God! I’m so happy you’ll come, and it’s next Sunday. They wanted to wait till after prom.”
“Ahem.” A throat got cleared, sounded like it was cleared on the regular too. We looked up. A teacher had been watching us from an opened classroom. “I believe your presence has been requested elsewhere, Miss Monroe.”