Page 31 of Crew
Taz was talking. We could hear her voice, but not what she was saying.
"They went to Manny's?" His eyes lifted to mine.
I could read his mind.
Fuck.
Heather ran Manny's. She was in charge of the grill while her brother ran the bar. It was a popular hangout for Normals. Anyone who went to Fallen Crest, our neighboring town, was trying to be uppity. Fallen Crest was rich. Millionaires lived there, and knowing Sunday had gone there with the other cheerleaders pissed me off.
Roussou was blue collar.
We were supposed to stay local.
We didn't get fancy college degrees, or if we did, it was a community college or technical school. I mean, yeah, there were some who left for those nice universities, but they rarely came back. They were usually not crew.
Heather was different. She lived there. She'd gone to school there, but Sunday--she was reaching above her station. My need to stir shit up went from a fun zone to a pissed-off zone.
"Okay. Thanks." Cross ended his call and looked at us. There was a dark gleam in his eyes. "Apparently, they've been hanging out in Fallen Crest all summer. Manny's is their new go-to."
A resounding silence showed our enthusiasm.
Jordan folded his arms over his chest. "Fuck that."
Even Zellman's eyes narrowed. "What the fuck they doing there? Sunday hoping to land some rich prick?"
Cross' top lip curled, but he looked only at me. "What do you want to do?"
We had to work fast.
We took Jordan's truck. As soon as he parked next to Sunday's car, Zellman jumped to the ground from the bed. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and moved slowly. He looked like he was out for a stroll.
Cross hopped out next to me and laughed. "He just needs a little bird to perch on his shoulder."
A second later, Zellman whistled as he headed inside Manny's.
"Let's go." Jordan stepped around us, using a machine to make quick work of the lug nuts.
I was the lookout, and I settled behind the car next to Sunday's, positioned so I could see through the window, but people coming out couldn't see me. I could hear Cross and Jordan working behind me.
They moved fast and efficiently. This wasn't the first car we'd done.
They set the jack in place, removed the hubcap. The lug nuts were loosened, and the car was jacked up. It wasn't long before I heard the first tire being taken off. Jordan put it aside as Cross grabbed a cinder block. The jack lowered the car, and they were on to the next tire.
The second and third tires went just as quickly. I waited until right before they got the fourth one off, then headed inside.
I was part signal, and part of the con too.
Cross and Jordan would finish up outside, storing Sunday's tires in the trees so we couldn't be labeled thieves. They always put them close to the vehicle, but they were still a bitch to find. If people knew us, knew our ways, they'd just go look for the tires. That only happened once--when we did this to my brother.
I laughed to myself, remembering that night.
Manny's was full, which didn't surprise me. There were Fallen Crest students in the front section. I was walking past the grill counter when Heather came out of her office. She stopped in the hallway, a bunch of papers in her hand, and frowned at me.
"Hey." Her frown faded, but I saw her wheels turning. Her forehead wrinkled. "I thought you were supposed to be at Channing's tonight."
Channing. Wha... My wheels started working, and I cursed.
She grinned, stuffing her papers into her pocket. "Totally forgot?" She gestured behind her. "I thought I saw Zellman a few minutes ago. Is your crew here?"
