by Tijan
He went to the kitchen where he would grab two bottles of water for us. I went up the stairs and to his bedroom, going into his bathroom. Nudging the door closed, I got ready for bed, using the toothbrush I kept here.
When I was done, I opened the door.
He was sitting on the bed, a pair of boxer shorts and sleeping shirt folded up next to him. A bottle of water lay next to them, and as I stepped out into his bedroom, he stood, and we switched places.
The bathroom door closed behind him.
I dressed in the clothes he’d left out, and I had the closet door open when he returned. I could smell his toothpaste as he stepped past me to the bed.
“You want the bed?” he asked.
He knew better.
My eyes met his for a second, and then I reached over to his desk, where he’d placed three blankets and two pillows. I spread two blankets in the closet, then scooted down. One pillow went under my head, the other I hugged to my chest. I pulled the other blanket over me, but I knew I’d probably kick it off.
I curled into a ball, lying on my side.
My phone was off. I knew Cross would wake us up.
He stood there, watching me for a moment.
I thought he’d say something, but he didn’t. He just stared at me, and a different feeling took root. An awareness. It was low in my belly, beginning to trickle up, almost tickling my insides.
All the while, Cross never looked away until slowly, he reached up and pulled his shirt off. His muscles rippled from the movement. For a second I saw every single one of his muscles outlined, all the way to the V dipping under his jeans. His eyes stayed on me as his hands dropped to his pants. He unbuckled them, letting them drop, and he kicked them to the side.
He’d taken his socks and shoes off in the bathroom, and now he stood in his boxer briefs. It wasn’t anything I hadn’t seen before, but there was a different feel to the room that night.
The tickle was still there, but it had softened. It almost felt like a tingle now.
I couldn’t endure it any more, whatever it was, so I closed my eyes.
The lights went out. Cross turned his sleeping fan to the lowest setting, and without opening my eyes—for a reason even I didn’t understand—I reached out and closed his closet door.
I barricaded myself in, and then I slept.
I woke early.
Cross was in the bathroom, but I didn’t have any clothes for school. I scribbled him a note, then took his keys and, after a quick stop in the family bathroom, I drove to my place. I showered and changed there, but hurried right back out the door. Channing’s bedroom door was closed as I passed. I didn’t want Cross to wait or risk a run-in with my brother. After picking up coffee, I went back to his place.
He was sitting on his porch, and after I parked, I slid into the passenger seat. He got behind the wheel. I indicated the coffee for him in the console. He grunted his thanks, but that was it. Neither of us was up for morning chatter. I saw the bags under his eyes. We’d only gotten a few hours of sleep.
He’d just shifted into drive when the front door opened. Taz walked out, her backpack over one shoulder and her own mug of coffee in hand. Her eyes widened as she saw us, but Cross was already pushing the accelerator.
Cursing, he hit the brakes, then cast a cursory look at me.
“If you’re pausing on giving her a ride because of me, don’t. I’m okay with her. You know that.”
He didn’t respond, but I didn’t expect him to.
After waiting another beat, Taz took a breath, rolled her shoulders back, and walked over. She looked like a three year old, her mind made up to ask for something she already knew her parents would say no to, but she was coming anyway.
Cross rolled his window down. “You want a ride this morning?”
She stopped right outside my door. “Sunday was supposed to give me a ride this morning.” She looked to me, then back to her brother. “I’m guessing she’s not coming? She never texted me back.”
She gave us both meaningful looks.
Cross relaxed into his seat. His arm hung loose over the steering wheel. “Look, if she doesn’t show, that’s between you and her. Don’t get mad at us because you have shit taste in friends. You know she’s a shitty person. Don’t know why you’re wasting your time.”
She rolled her eyes, adjusting her backpack over her shoulder. She switched her coffee to the other hand. “Yeah, yeah. I know, but not all of us have an entire crew at our disposal.”
“You need a ride or what?”
Her eyes grew a little frosty, matching her tone. She ignored her brother. “Pretty sure one of your friends has a certain taste for her too. And like I said, some of us are a bit limited in the friendship category.”
Cross chuckled. “My point still stands. Zellman has no taste in women. He’d bang a door if it had a hole his prick wouldn’t get a sliver from. You want a ride or not?”
She groaned, but nodded. “I can’t take Mom’s car. She took it this morning.” She nodded to me, opening my door. “Slide over, B.”
I did.
Then we were off, windows down.
We didn’t even try at conversation. It was pointless. We all knew how Cross drove. He took the back roads around town, going as fast as he could. The radio was turned on once we hit the main street, Kansas blaring from the speakers.
Taz bobbed her head in rhythm with the music, starting to sing, and the tension from last night was gone. It felt right again with the three of us.
It didn’t last. Once we parked at the school, the tension rose, along with the windows. I felt it on my shoulders as we got out, silent once again.
Taz climbed out of the truck. I slid out behind Cross, and we saw them right away.
Taz was already around the back when she realized I hadn’t followed her.
“Bren?” She followed our gazes and asked, “Something happen I should know about?”
Alex Ryerson and ten of his group were heading our way. The girls who’d been standing with them fell back.
I rounded the back of Cross’ truck as Alex stopped about ten yards away. We moved to stand in front of Taz.
“Guys?” she asked again, so quietly.
I reached behind me and gestured for her to move away.
She didn’t.
Alex and his guys moved closer.
“What’s going on, Bren?” Taz asked under her breath.
“Get Jordan and Zellman.” I thought about it and added, “And Race Ryerson.”
She started off, but turned back. “The new guy?”
“Just do it.” I flicked my hand a little harder.
With a soft huff, she moved to the side and around us, keeping a good distance from Alex’s crew as they spread out in a line in front of us, forming half a circle. It was only Cross and me. His truck was behind us, blocking any escape route. Eleven to two was steep odds, even for us. We were going to get real bloody real quick.
“What do you want, Alex?” Cross asked, his hands half in his pockets and half out.
“I got a good earful last night from my cousin,” Alex said. He turned to me. “It was my second offense against you. Now, I’m not saying I don’t want war. We outnumber your crew, but having said that, I was at fault. You guys were doing what you have to for a crew member. I get that. So…” He tipped his head. “I’m apologizing, Bren.”
My insides clenched into a giant fist. What was this? I’d expected a fight.
“You apologized yesterday morning, then did the same thing twelve hours later. I’m thinking your apology is bullshit.”
His eyes grew wary. “Okay. That’s fair.” He raised his chin. “What do you want instead? What can I do to show you I mean it?”
“What are you asking?”
“What do you want?”
I cocked my head to the side. “Are you messing with us?”
He lifted a shoulder, his hands tucked back into his pockets. “I’m assuming Jax didn’t press charges. All those repairs are on her. Th
at’s gotta be expensive.” He stopped, like he was mulling over his words. “I can pay for it,” he offered.
His dad would pay for it. Not him.
If he’d offered last night, I would’ve taken him up on it. But not now.
“That ship’s sailed, buddy. My brother’s covering all the repairs.” I narrowed my eyes and waited. That bombshell should hit him hard. It would hit anyone hard.
My relationship with Channing was what it was, but I hadn’t exaggerated his standing in town.
At my words, Alex’s cocky attitude vanished. His eyes widened, and he snapped to attention.
“Oh.” He moved back a step.
Yeah.
Two of Alex’s crew stepped up next to him. He leaned over, listening to what they said.
Jordan and Zellman broke through the crowd that had formed to watch. They stayed back on the sidewalk at a safe distance. Jordan kept skirting from Alex to Cross and me, but he kept quiet.
Before the crowd closed back up, I saw Race standing outside the school door. He was watching, waiting to see what would happen. There was no uncertainty in his posture. His head was high. His eyes were calm. He was ready—for what I didn’t know. Alex’s words came back to me. “I got an earful from my cousin last night.”
What had Race said?
“Okay.”
The two crew stepped away from Alex. He scanned the rest of mine with an intense look. “We’ll go to your brother today. We’ll request a meeting with him.” He gestured to me. “You still can decide what I can do to make it up to you.”
“I’m already repaying your debt to my brother,” I told him. “It’s a family thing. Trust me. He won’t let you take my place.”
“Still.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I’ll go to him separately, and if you’re repaying my debt already, then I really owe you.”
I shared a look with Jordan. He’d deemed himself our leader. He could act like one now. But as if he’d read my mind, he shook his head as if to say “No, you got this.”
I sighed. “I don’t know, Alex. There’s nothing I want from you.”
His top lip curled into a slight smile. “Okay, but if there is, let me know. I’ll hold up my end.”
I stepped toward him, moving out ahead of my crew. Right now, I was the leader. “There will be retaliation if you don’t.”
“I know.” His eyes held mine. He didn’t waver or look away.
I moved back again. We’d see. “Fine.” I didn’t have a lot of faith in Alex, but you just never knew with him.
A full smile broke out. “Are we friends again, Bren?”
“Don’t push it.” I didn’t hold back a small grin, letting him see it.
He nodded, giving a wave to the rest of the guys. “Jordan. Cross. Zellman.”
“Alex.” Jordan stepped toward me as word spread the fight everyone expected wasn’t going to happen.
The crowd started to disperse. People began heading in.
Not us.
Jordan, Zellman, and Cross waited until enough people had moved away that we had privacy.
“What just happened?” Jordan asked.
“Ryerson took ownership,” Cross said. “He came to offer his debt to Bren.”
“For real?”
Cross nodded, his arm coming to rest around my shoulders. He patted the top of my arm. “She made him bend down and sniff his own shit. Almost literally. He’s going to face Channing.”
Jordan burst out laughing. “That’s awesome. Shit. He’s going to face Channing? He thinks we’re scary; he’ll have to strap on a diaper when he goes to that meeting.” Jordan looked to me. “Alex will chicken out. I guarantee he’ll push that meeting off as long as he can.”
“You think he won’t go?” I asked.
“He has to now. If he doesn’t, he’s a coward. No crew is a coward. That’s one decree we all agree on, but I bet you he’ll wait as long as possible.” He shook his head, whistling. “We’ll see what happens.”
The second bell was about to ring, and the parking lot showed it. The only people still outside were Alex’s crew, who were on their way in, our crew, and—I looked over again—Race. He lingered by the door, but when our eyes met, he nodded and headed inside too.
I’d taken two steps inside when a teacher said, “Bren Monroe, go to the office for skipping yesterday.”
I stopped and let out a full-blown groan.
One day. I couldn’t last one full day without getting in trouble. I swear.
“Bren Monroe is in my office.”
Nikki Bagirianni, the school counselor, spoke more to herself than me as she looked up at Principal Neeon holding my arm. She put down the phone she’d just picked up at her secretary’s desk, her office door open behind her.
“She skipped the second half of classes yesterday.” Principal Neeon let go of my arm.
Why he had to hold it, I didn’t know, but I shot him a look like he’d hurt me. I even rubbed where he’d held me.
“I told you I was sick yesterday.”
Neeon leaned forward, his arms crossed over his chest. “Then have your brother send a note next time.” He nodded to the counselor. “She’s all yours for now.”
For now. Meaning there was more to come.
Exciting.
Ms. Bagirianni —or Nikki as she usually had people call her—was known as The Badger by most of us. We were crew. If we didn’t find ourselves in the counselor’s office or Neeon’s office, we were doing something wrong.
“Right.” She straightened her silk shirt and smoothed her hands over her hair. It was up in a bun, and her motion pulled out some of the strands. She smiled at me, patting those loose strands back into place. “Yes. Bren Monroe. It’s Tuesday. That seems right to me. The new year has officially begun.”
Her hair still stuck out.
She nodded toward the open door behind her. “My office?”
Like I had a say in the matter.
She went in and sat behind her desk.
I took one of the two plush seats set up in the corner of her office. A large green plant sat on the table between them, and I reached out to touch it.
The plant was plastic.
She typed for a moment on her computer before turning the screen off.
I gestured to the plant. “It’s new.”
“Administration decided we need to be green and healthy and alive. So…” She made a face, positioning her chair so she faced me directly. She folded her hands over her lap. “There you go. That’s my contribution.”
“You should name him Gus.”
Her head fell forward an inch. “Name my plant?”
“Yes.”
“Gus?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” She straightened her skirt, smoothing her hands over the edge. “I have a male plant named Gus. I feel like I should formally meet my own fake plant.”
I picked it up, holding it out to her. “Here you go.”
Her eyes went to mine. “Are you joking?”
Yes. I shrugged. “You’re a counselor. Isn’t doing crazy shit part of the job description?”
“Crazy shit?” She sucked in her breath, shaking her head. “Yes. This is it. I am back to work. Summer is over, and Bren Monroe is swearing in my office. It’s a normal Tuesday like all the other years. And yeah.” She glanced at her wrist. “That took two minutes. We’re back in our old roles.”
“You’re the one who has a fake plant.”
“Because I will kill a real one, and come on—I’m doing the best I can. I’m following the rules.”
“You got mad at me for saying ‘crazy shit.’ You made me talk to an empty chair last year. Three times,” I reminded her. “I had a fight with an empty chair. It was air, and I got pissed off.”
She smiled. “Well, the chair talked back. I heard it too.”
I started laughing. Then I stopped because I didn’t laugh—with her especially.
“You can laugh. Even Gus thought that was funny.” She g
estured to the plant still in my hands.
“You should go on tour. Be a professional comedian. You could be famous.”
She didn’t even blink. “Lame attempt at getting me to quit my job. We’d still be doing this, even if I did hand in the towel.”
I lifted my shoulder. “It was a long shot.” I scratched behind my ear. “I know the whole premise is that I’m crazy and that’s why I get sent here, but I only feel nuts when I’m actually in this office. Life makes perfect sense to me outside of this square box.”
“Perfect sense?”
I nodded. I would back up what I said. She didn’t know about the firefly.
“You lost your mother when you were eight. Your brother was basically nonexistent in your life. And your dad, who had an intense anger problem, went to prison two years ago. I have already heard about two incidents you were a catalyst for—two potentially violent incidents—and the rumor around school is that there was a huge crew fight at Manny’s in Fallen Crest last night. No one had to tell me you were a part of that too. That’s three incidences in two days, Bren.”
She leaned back in her chair, waving her hand between us. “You and me, we’ve been doing this dance for a while. Two years, to be exact. You were mandated to come to sessions with me when your dad went in and you went to your brother’s custody, but we’d already met a few times after your mom died. You have stonewalled me at every turn. Isn’t it time you start talking? Three fights in two days. That’s a lot of pain to hold on to. You have to be exhausted.”
Not on a bad day.
Not on a good day.
I grinned at her. “It was one fight. The other two things didn’t happen.”
“That makes it better?”
“Yes,” I shot back.
“Okay.” She crossed one leg over the other. Leaning back and rolling her shoulders, she put on the counselor stare. She was now ready to try to read inside of me, pull out all my insides and make me examine them along with her.
Fuck that.
But I held my tongue as she said, “Round one.”
I arched an eyebrow.
“What were you talking about with Alex Ryerson in the parking lot this morning?”
“We were finalizing our friendship handshake.”