Crew (Crew #1)

I nodded.

“I figured.” He took the whiskey from me again, drank, and handed it back. “I wanted you to say it. Just once.”

My throat burned, but not from the alcohol. I wiped at the corner of my eye. “So, the party sucked then?”

“Yeah.”

A small grin tugged at my lips. “Now who’s the liar?”

He laughed and reached for the whiskey again. “Yeah. Maybe. Still rather be with you.”

I nodded.

I was glad.





Cross was waiting in the parking lot for me the next morning. He was on the back of his truck, the tailgate down, a few others with him. They scattered when I parked and got out.

He jumped off, closing the back as I walked by. “Was your brother mad this morning?”

I grimaced, remembering.

We’d fallen asleep on the hill and woken up early in the morning, way too early. Cross gave me a ride home, and I’d hoped to sneak in, shower, dress, and slip out. It hadn’t worked out that way.

“No.”

I’d thought I was in the clear. Channing and Heather didn’t always sleep with a fan on, but they had one going this morning. I crept in and saw Heather in bed with a lump behind her.

“Never mistake a body pillow for a person. I did that this morning,” I told Cross as we walked across the lot and into the school.

Channing had been right behind me, and the quiet silence of the morning was finished.

“Where were you last night?” he’d demanded.

“Ssshhh!” I’d glanced back at him, but Heather was already rolling around. We’d woken her up.

“He let me leave without much of an explanation,” I told Cross. “But I have to have dinner with him tonight.”

“Doesn’t he work tonight?”

“Yeah.” We got to the school doors, and I used my back to open them. “Guess where we’re going tonight?”

“You’re kidding. Your brother is the opposite of a parent who’d want you to show up for home family meals. How’s he going to do that? Between his guys, his woman, and his bar?”

I shrugged. I’d do my part, show up where or when I had to and let my brother figure out the rest. As long as I was in the clear, for once. I shook my head.

The hallway was full with people, but once we stepped inside, a nice clear path appeared for us. That’s what happened for anyone in a crew. People thought we were gangs. We weren’t. I hated gangs. If it was that situation, I wouldn’t be in. So, no. We weren’t gangs—there was no hazing ritual, and we weren’t in until we decided to risk limb and life to get out. No one told me what to do, not unless I backed them up, and if it was a situation where I didn’t want to back up my guys, that was a whole other problem that needed to be dealt with. We took care of our own, and unlike normal friendships, we went to bat for each other. Sometimes literally. That was the basic rule of being in a crew: you backed each other up. No matter what. Now, I couldn’t say our case was the same for the others. Some were more official. They had auditions, a whole application process, but some just happened naturally.

Those were the best kind.

That’s how we had come to be.

Jordan, Zellman, Cross, and me. We were known as the Wolves, though we didn’t have an official name. There were no T-shirts or secret handshakes. Our crew had formed over several years because of a couple key events. The first was in sixth grade when Zellman was being bullied. Jordan had waded in. He’d thrown kids out of the way and given the bully a couple black eyes. Hence Zellman’s loyalty to Jordan.

The next time was at the end of seventh grade.

A guy tried to creep up on me behind school one day. I fought back, but he had friends. What could’ve happened, I didn’t like to think about.

Cross and I had been friends since Amy Pundrie called me fat in third grade, and Cross told her she was Amy Pigdrie instead. He’d kept calling her that until he got in trouble in fourth grade and was sent to the principal. He only whispered the name after that, and it got shortened to Amy Piggy. Once I hit puberty and realized what it meant to be a girl, I told him to knock it off with the weight-related name-calling. He hadn’t uttered a word about it since, but he still gave her the side-eye sometimes.

Anyway, Cross had shown up the day the creeper was after me, and Jordan and Zellman had shown up too.

Cross took out the guys from the left.

Jordan and Zellman took out the guys from the right.

I returned the favor a few months later when a guy tried to knife Jordan in a fight. I showed up, grabbed the knife, and slammed it into his side. I wasn’t one to throw punches, but people learned to be wary of me when I pulled out a knife. My throwing skills were decent, better than most normal people, but my talent lay in the slicing and dicing motion.

There were other crews that were bigger than ours, but we were the most feared. There was a reason for that.

“You already know your locker and schedule?” Cross asked.

I nodded, heading to my locker. “Unlike you, I showed up for registration last week. Fancy that, me being the good student.”

A few girls were already looking at him. I was somewhat surprised he wasn’t already gone, getting his dick wet, but it was the first day of the year. He wouldn’t be leaving my side or Jordan and Zellman’s, not unless he was forced away.

He groaned, resting his back against the locker beside mine. “Something tells me it won’t last.”

I grinned, turning the lock until the door opened. Then I pulled a piece of paper from my pocket. I stowed my bag inside and brandished the paper in the air. “Good thing I got your info too.”

He snatched it. “Ah! I love you.”

“What?” an irritated voice exclaimed behind us. “There’s no crew coupling. Or at least there isn’t in yours.”

Cross and I shared a look as he turned around.

“Hey, twin sister.”

Tasmin, who answered only to Taz, beamed up at him. Like Cross, she was naturally tan, with the same tawny hazel eyes and golden blonde hair. Even their lean builds were the same. Cross just had broad shoulders, while Taz was petite. Her hair fell to her waist, and today she’d braided one side along her skull, all the way to the ends.

She was gorgeous, just like her brother.

And while she wasn’t in our crew, she was as close as possible. Cross was protective, keeping her away from the violence, and she also didn’t like the system. She didn’t understand it.

“Hey, twin brother!” She waved a finger between us. “Is this the reason I saw Monica crying at the end of the hall?”

He looked.

I sighed. “I knew it.”

He turned back, frowning. “I never answered your question last night.”

“So you two were together last night?” Taz’s tone was accusing.

Cross cringed.

So did I. This was more attention than we needed. If you were in a crew, you got attention. Any, but especially ours. It was just a fact. Her voice rose and I cursed in my head, wondering who’d pick up on what she was saying and run wild with it. Wolves were infamous, but Cross was infamous in his own right. Me too, if I was being truthful and not hiding from it. Any girl who joined got noticed, and the fact I was in the Wolf Crew, which no one got into—this shit would be spread before the end of next hour.

I didn’t like it, but I’d have to handle it. Still, this innuendo on Cross and me as a couple didn’t rest easy on my shoulders.

“Hey, hey.” I reached for her finger. She lowered it before I could grab it, and I rested against the neighboring locker. I raised an eyebrow. “It wasn’t like that, and you know it.”

She rolled her eyes. “I just think it’s stupid. You two belong together. Now scoot!” She waved at her brother and nodded to the locker behind him. “That’s my locker.” She winked at me. “I pulled some Student Council strings and got us all together.”

“Wait.” He looked down at the paper I’d given him. “My locker is by yours?”

“You’re smart,” I deadpanned.

He rolled his eyes, but I could see a smile.

Taz nodded to where I was resting. “Right there.”