Page 104 of Crew
I texted back. Really?
Really. Meet me there. Moose is coming.
I thumbed back, What's my middle name?
Rayna. Loser. This is your brother. I'm not fucking around.
Okay. So it was him.
I had to make sure.
Another buzz. See you there. Invite whoever.
That perked me up. I was almost smiling when I put my phone away.
Cross was waiting for me at our lockers, and seeing my face, he stepped backward. "Who are you? What have you done with my best friend?"
"Lame. Get a new line."
He laughed. "I will." He nodded to where I'd put my phone. "Your brother?"
"Yeah," I told him. "You want to come?"
Suspicion clouded his face. He tilted his head to the side. "You sure? Jordan and Z will be pissed if they aren't invited."
I shrugged. "So invite them."
"Yeah?"
I nodded. I'd been down with the whole "the more the merrier" attitude when it came to my brother's dinners. If he was asking for me to invite them, then hell to the yes. I wasn't going to pass that up. Besides, I was heading into foreign territory. I didn't hang out at the Pizzeria.
It could be the new cheerleading headquarters for all I knew.
That evening I discovered I was partially right.
We walked in after hanging out at Jordan's for most of the afternoon, and I saw Sunday Barnes, Monica, and a whole other table full of them. I recognized Tabatha Sweets. She was considered the top of the top on the popularity charts for the girls in our grade.
They took up the entire back section of the Pizzeria, with the other tables full of some of the popular athletes too. All were Normals.
I scanned for Taz, but she wasn't here.
Wait. Nope.
Her head popped up from the back table, and seeing us, her eyes widened.
"Bren? Cross?"
Jordan and Zellman were behind us so I moved aside. At her question, that entire section had quieted and turned to take us in.
"Oh, hell yeah." Zellman pushed past us, beelining for their table.
Sunday sat with her elbows on the table. Her hands shielded her eyes as she stared down at the tablecloth. Monica's head was pushed close to hers. They were whispering.
Z didn't care.
A small partition blocked off that section from the rest of the place, but he hopped right over it and came around their table, ignoring everyone else as he dropped into Taz's empty seat. He draped his arm around Sunday's shoulders and pushed his head in too, as if conspiring with the other two.
Sunday stiffened, but she didn't push him away. He only moved closer.
