Page 111 of Crew Princess
Shit.
Zellman started laughing again.
“Shut it, Z!”
“My friends call me Z. I’m Zellman to you.”
Tabatha looked rocked, actually weaving in her chair. Her eyes filled with tears. “Ava.”
Ava had stepped back by now. “Yes?”
“As my friends have pointed out to me just now, I don’t know if you’re aware, but I have this problem…” She rolled her neck, lifting her chin, and shifting on her seat. “I’m a reformed stuck-up bitch. Or I’m trying to be, and I still have flare-ups when the stuck-up part shows it’s ugly head. I had one of those moments with you just now, and I am sorry.” She bit down on her lip. “For being a bitch to you.”
Zellman gave her a nod of approval.
“Uh. Okay. Thank you, but you were fine, miss.” Ava ducked her head. “I’ll be right back with the second appetizer.”
Once she was gone, no one moved for the food. They were waiting.
Tabatha looked down, her hands in her lap. “I’m sorry. I meant what I said. I’m trying to change.” She sought Taz out first, then Cross, then me. “Becoming friends with you guys is important to me. I wasn’t expecting to change, but after Jordan and I began dating, I fell in love with him. It just happened. But I have a ways to go, and I’m sorry again.”
Now I felt uncomfortable.
Being in a fight was my terrain. This—calling someone out and having them not only apologize, but be genuine—was foreign fucking land to me.
Taz was smiling, beaming even.
Race shrugged, reaching for his soda.
Cross was eyeing me.
Then everyone turned to look. I lifted my hands. “Okay?”
Zellman started laughing. “There’s our girl, not knowing how to function. She’s used to beating the apology out of bitches like you.”
“Dude,” Jordan admonished.
“Right.” Zellman raised his water toward Tabatha. “You can call me Z again, anddude,” he said to Jordan, motioning to me. “That’s Dude. We’ve gone over this.”
Everyone started laughing—even Tabatha, a little red in the face again. “You’re such a goof, Zellman.”
He grinned. “That’s Z to you.”
She smiled back, the lines around her mouth softening. “Z.”
“And I won’t hear anything besides it.”
Zellman was teasing, but he wasn’t wrong.
I felt a lingering sense of unease through dinner.
Tabatha had looked down on Ava for what? Working three jobs? Being in mock trial? I didn’t know what mock trial was, but it sounded better than anything I’d done in school. I was in a crew. That was it. These guys fulfilled both family and friend roles for me, but things were changing. I’d talked about growing with Cross, and I meant it, but that made me uneasy too.
How far could you stick your neck out—trying to learn, push yourself, adapt, grow—before it was chopped off? It was different for Tabatha, for the Normals. Going to college was expected of them. I’d been in The Badger’s office when they came in, asking for help with college applications. They rattled off their options, weighing where they wanted to go. No problem at all.
Not for me. Even the conversation filled me with terror, but I knew it was going to happen. Growing. Moving on. What then? If my guys left and I stayed back? What bitch like Tabatha would I have to deal with, looking down on me because I’d need to work three jobs too?
When we finished dinner, we went back out to the party bus, headed for the dance this time.
