Page 8 of Crew
I came to look for her, to see if she was moving around inside that house. I wanted a glimpse of her, even though I knew she was dead, even though I knew I was looking for a ghost. I still came.
I wanted to see her one last time.
"You're not supposed to lie to me."
I heard his disappointment and breathed in.
I let the air circulate through my lungs and then back out. One steady breath. Then I murmured, "You know why I come."
"For your mom?"
I frowned. Why did he have to say it? I didn't want to hear it. I just wanted to feel it.
I nodded.
"I figured." He took the whiskey from me again, drank, and handed it back. "I wanted you to say it. Just once."
My throat burned, but not from the alcohol. I wiped at the corner of my eye. "So, the party sucked then?"
"Yeah."
A small grin tugged at my lips. "Now who's the liar?"
He laughed and reached for the whiskey again. "Yeah. Maybe. Still rather be with you."
I nodded.
I was glad.
Cross was waiting in the parking lot for me the next morning. He was on the back of his truck, the tailgate down, a few others with him. They scattered when I parked and got out.
He jumped off, closing the back as I walked by. "Was your brother mad this morning?"
I grimaced, remembering.
We'd fallen asleep on the hill and woken up early in the morning, way too early. Cross gave me a ride home, and I'd hoped to sneak in, shower, dress, and slip out. It hadn't worked out that way.
"No."
I'd thought I was in the clear. Channing and Heather didn't always sleep with a fan on, but they had one going this morning. I crept in and saw Heather in bed with a lump behind her.
"Never mistake a body pillow for a person. I did that this morning," I told Cross as we walked across the lot and into the school.
Channing had been right behind me, and the quiet silence of the morning was finished.
"Where were you last night?" he'd demanded.
"Ssshhh!" I'd glanced back at him, but Heather was already rolling around. We'd woken her up.
"He let me leave without much of an explanation," I told Cross. "But I have to have dinner with him tonight."
"Doesn't he work tonight?"
"Yeah." We got to the school doors, and I used my back to open them. "Guess where we're going tonight?"
"You're kidding. Your brother is the opposite of a parent who'd want you to show up for home family meals. How's he going to do that? Between his guys, his woman, and his bar?"
I shrugged. I'd do my part, show up where or when I had to and let my brother figure out the rest. As long as I was in the clear, for once. I shook my head.
