Page 104 of Crew Princess
“Channing.” Heather jumped to her feet.
He flung a hand out, silencing her, but his eyes never left my face. “No, Heather. This is brother and sister shit, and Bren is about to say something real and significant and something that’ll make everything make sense. I can feel it in my bones, and I am also feeling this huge red alarm saying to push her. Make her talk. Make her open up, because if you don’t, she never will.”
He took a step forward. “I don’t know why this came up, but there’s a crack. You opened it, just slightly, and I’m here. I’m pushing my way in, all the way in. Let. Me. IN!”
My emotions swirled inside of me, picking up speed, power, like a tornado trying to shove out of me.
Then, silence.
Heather didn’t dare talk.
The room was so small, so heavy.
Channing was breathing hard, but he grated out, “Bren. Please.”
I crumbled. That lastplease. It was soft and delicate and so unlike everything else, and he was right. There was a crack. It had formed this morning and grown all day long, and I couldn’t deny what was staring me in the face.
I was different. I was not like those other girls, but it wasn’t because I chose it. That’s what I’d told myself. I grew up brainwashing myself into thinking I was better, elevated above them, but that wasn’t the truth.
I was just a girl, hurting, and I didn’t know why, but today I could see it. I couldn’t put my head down and ignore it, not anymore, and the reason for that—I wasn’t sure. I just couldn’t hold myself back anymore.
Channing was in my face, breathing hard, his eyes pleading, so stricken, and I—I felt her.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up.
She was here, and as I stared at Channing, his eyes widened too. The hairs on his arms stood up. He could feel her too.
“You…” he started.
A surreal warmth oozed into me. Calming. Peaceful.
“Channing,” I whispered.
“Shit,” he cursed softly.
Two steps and I was in his arms. He wrapped me tight, pulling me to his chest.
I could hear Heather’s soft crying.
She was here. I knew it. I could feel her.
“Oh my God,” Channing breathed.
Words would’ve cheapened this moment.
I knew and I knew Channing knew, and that was enough for me. I was supposed to meet Cross at his parents’. That’s what everyone planned—meet there for the first round of pictures. And Taz had gotten involved when Cross said he was going to get ready at my place. She insisted, with full-on sobbing and her face looking like a puppy dog’s, that he needed to do it at home. For her. This was the last prom for both of them, and I’d been fine with it.
That was then.
This was now.
Leaving my house, I felt raw and unsettled. For the life of me, I couldn’t fold in on myself this time. I assumed I was healing. Maybe?
Who gave a fuck?
Well, I did. Because I felt exposed and vulnerable, and I was trying my hardest to pretend otherwise. No one could know. No one.
As I headed out the door, I heard Heather whisper to Channing in the living room. “What was that? What happened?”
