Page 13 of Crew
He growled, but jerked his head in a nod, "Yeah. Yeah. Sorry."
I waited. My heart slammed into my throat.
Then I heard a soft voice behind me. "Let him go, Bren."
That was Cross.
His hand touched me.
His hand, yes.
Someone else's, no.
"I'm sorry, Bren." Alex turned a bit more to see me better.
I blinked a few times.
Maybe he saw the crazy in me. Maybe he was nervous because my knife was still out. Whatever the reason, he was cautious as he began to straighten back up.
I kept my knife to his throat, but I moved back with him. Once we were both upright, I slipped it away. "Don't touch me like that."
"Yeah." He exhaled a deep breath. His chest lifted up, filling under his sleeveless shirt, and he held his hands up at hip-level. "I'm sorry."
"Come on!" A guy came forward, but Jordan slammed him back.
He was in the guy's face. "Come on what? You tell me."
"Hey, hey." Alex moved past me, keeping a wary eye on me as he went to his guys' side.
Jordan fell back, his own hands up.
Alex cleared his throat, his arms stretching between us and his guys. "We're good. Everything is good."
"Touch one of my crew again, and we'll have problems," Jordan threatened under his breath.
"Look..." Alex sent me a beseeching look. "I wasn't thinking. I was just going to give you crap for not being at my party last night. That's all."
"You touch your own like that?" Cross growled, right beside me.
His point was obvious: I wasn't a girl. I was crew.
Alex had forgotten that when he grabbed me.
"What is going on here?" a voice boomed from the end of the hallway.
Everyone stepped back. It would've been comical if I hadn't been part of it. Backs hit lockers again, but this time it was on purpose. Arms crossed over chests. A few people shoved their hands into their pockets. Everyone tried to look relaxed, like we were all hanging out. Even Jordan pretended to look at his nails, a faint grin on his face.
Principal Neeon shook his head.
He was tall, his bald head towering over most everyone except Jordan. They were the same height, but Principal Neeon outweighed him by a hundred pounds. If anyone could manage our school, a retired linebacker from the NFL fit the bill perfectly. It didn't hurt that his entire family were cops either.
His eyes narrowed on Jordan and Alex.
"Mr. Pitts."
Jordan's eyes lit up, like he'd just noticed our principal standing there. He straightened from the locker. "Oh hey, Mr. Neeon. How are you this fine morning?"
Mr. Neeon was unfazed. "Are you going to pretend an altercation didn't almost happen here?"
