Page 133 of Crew
"Him too."
"No. Fuck," Jordan said. "Wait. I mean, no shit. Yeah. No shit. And I'm not pissed at you." He squinted at me. "I'm really fucking drunk. I love you guys." He looked around, his eyes glazed. He was mostly directing his statements to the fire now.
Zellman's laughter lessened, and he lifted his head, like he was doing a side-crunch. "Huh?"
Jordan clapped Zellman on the shoulder. He squeezed, then patted. Hunching forward, he gazed at Cross and me again. "They sent my sister away."
Wait. Huh?
The bonfire was spinning.
I heard Cross respond to Jordan.
Jordan said something about his sister, who didn't go to our school. Where did Mallory go? I knew, but I didn't at that moment.
Why couldn't I remember?
Jordan added, almost in a grunt, "You guys know she started at that prick school in Fallen Crest this year, but she's not handling the assault very well. They sent her away, like away away. She's not even staying at the house."
Mallory.
Away.
But I knew that. She started at Fallen Crest Academy this year.
Cross said, "You didn't mention her. I'm sorry, Jordan."
Another grunt from our non-leader. His jaw clenched and he flicked a hand over his cheek. "I know, but whatever. I had a reason for saying that. You guys." He focused on us again. "I know I can be an asshole sometimes."
There was a dig there, but I held my tongue. I refrained.
He'd been talking about Mallory. That was serious for Jordan.
Cross began snickering.
I scowled at him. "He's being all open with us. Stop."
Cross shook his head at me. "You've got no clue what he's talking about. He could be talking about unicorns for all you know."
Wait. Was he?
I turned to Jordan, my head tilting to the side.
Jordan rolled his eyes, waving his beer in the air. "Yeah, yeah. Laugh at my expense. I get it. I'm only sometimes an asshole? But yeah, I am. Sometimes I'm an asshole. Sometimes I'm a really fucking great guy. I mean, I love you guys." He threw his arms in the air. His beer went flying.
He didn't notice.
"I'll own my shit. I can be a hothead, and egotistical. I like to be the boss, but your words hurt, B. And I'm not throwing a pity party here. I know why they hurt. Because they're the truth, that's why. You're right. I'm not super smart." His voice cracked. "You and Cross are the smart ones. You two are the thinkers for us. Zellman is the glue. He holds us all together. So what am I? What do I do? Except have a big mouth. But maybe that's it. I'm the mouth guy. I'm the mouthpiece. I make up with my size too. Right? I push my way in. That's what I do. I can brawl with the best of them, and you two." He stopped again. Another breath. "You guys are some of the best fighters I've met. I'm honored to have you at my back." He coughed, clearing his throat. His hands balled into fists. He was looking at the ground now. "I just... I want to prove that I really didn't have any bad intentions. I mean, I love my dad. I hate that he travels so much for his job--and I'm sounding like a pussy right now. I don't care. But you guys were there for me with Mallory. She's my little sis, you know?" His voice sounded gruff. "That means something to me. That means a lot to me."
His fists pressed into the sides of his legs, and he lifted his head. Tears shimmered in his eyes. "I didn't even think you wouldn't want to see your dad. You never talk about him, Bren. Ever. You don't talk about anything. I mean, anything. I'm scared to ask you about anything, and I'm in your crew. People look at me like I should know, but I don't." He motioned to Cross. "He gets to know. Not us. I don't know. I love you, B. You're my sister, but in a crew way, you know? And yeah, I don't know. I've always wondered why you don't see your dad, or talk about him, but I got it now. I said it before, but I mean it. I'm sorry. I really am."
He looked right at me.
He meant it. I felt it. He was being genuine.
I found myself leaning forward, waiting for the rest of what he'd say.
"I just, I love you guys." He clamped down on Zellman's shoulder again.
