Page 105 of Crew
Monica backed away, watching them a moment before shrugging and turning to watch us with everyone else. A few of the athlete guys were frowning at Z.
I had to wonder how they always handled the guys. Until this year, Monica was usually around Cross. Sunday and Zellman had their thing. And I knew Jordan had slept with half those girls.
Cross had slept with the other half in between when he was seeing Monica, or whatever they had been doing.
Those guys would usually have ruled the school. But not in Roussou. The jocks/athletes/populars were almost second-class here, though they liked to walk around with the same swagger I'd seen from popular guys at other schools. They still had the cocky attitude, just nothing to back it up, at least against the crew guys.
I wondered if the Normals had their own social classes, with a hierarchy and rules? They must've.
Cross nudged me. "Where do you want to sit?"
The hostess had been asking me, her eyes darting between us as she bit her lip. She held three menus in her hands, tucked in front of her body, and they were shaking, just a little.
The girl was scared of us.
I felt bad for her, because she didn't look like one of the girls who was friends with the Sunday Barnes' of the world.
Wait...
I looked more closely at her. "You look familiar."
She blushed, tucking a strand of her almost-white hair behind her ear. She was thin almost the point of seeming frail. "I work at Manny's too. I'm A--"
"Ava." I wasn't around Manny's that much, but I was there enough to have seen her. Quite a bit. "You work here too?"
She nodded, rotating the menus so the one on top was in the back. She repeated the motion. She kept doing it as she answered, "Yes. I have bills, you know?" A shy smile. Her eyes skirted to Cross, and her face warmed before she looked down again. "Did you want to sit near the back section? With your friends?"
"No." God, no. "There are two more coming, so put us at a table where you can sit six or seven comfortably," I told her. "Actually, Moose counts as two. Make it eight people comfortably."
Cross gestured to an emptier section across the room. "How about over there?"
"Sure." Ava grabbed a few more menus and came out from behind the hostess stand. "Follow me."
She led us toward the table.
Jordan held up a hand. "Yo, Z. You coming?"
"Yeah, yeah." Z went right back to whispering to Sunday, who seemed to be melting with each word he said. She dissolved into a sighing mess before our eyes.
We were passing by their section when suddenly Tabatha Sweets stood up. Her chair scraped against the floor, and her hands found her hips. She lifted her head, an alluring smile on her face. Brushing her hair back, she called, "Hey. Can some of us come too?"
Jordan stopped in his tracks, staring right at her.
Unblinking, her gaze roamed from him to Cross, to me, narrowing slightly, and then past me to where Ava had stopped to see what was going on.
"What do you say?" she called again.
I didn't know Tabatha Sweets that well. I knew she was their leader, but that was about it. She led the first tier. I'd never heard rumors that she was mean, that she was a bully, that she was easy, that she was stuck-up. Nothing. She was just the top. That's how Taz always put it.
She smiled at Cross. "Hi, Cross."
He wasn't even looking at her. He was staring right at me, and he smirked, as if reading my mind.
I refused to let anything show, but I asked, "Jordan? Did you want to sit with them?"
My tone was casual, not friendly, but not stiff.
He flashed me a grin, shaking his head. "Nah. I'm good. But maybe another night, Sweets?" He gave her a smirk.
