Page 139 of Crew Princess
That was as good a response as I was gonna get. I reached for the door handle. “Okay. Let’s do this.”
The door opened for us as we stepped onto the patio, and though Cross told me his dad’s girlfriend had come to the police station, I hadn’t noticed her. She was beautiful—petite, with a heart-shaped face and little square chin. Wide eyes. Sun-kissed hair. It looked like it was naturally light brown, but she had a good mix of blond streaks. Half her hair was pulled back, and half swayed around the front of her face, touching just under her chin and dipping in to frame her jawline. Dressed in a white tank top, green cargo capris, tan sandals, and a low-hanging brooch that I was pretty sure could’ve bought Channing’s house, she had a very Jennifer Aniston look to her.
“Hi!”
Oh, good gracious. She even sounded like Jennifer Aniston. She held the door open wider, but suddenly filled the space, her arms around me.
I froze in place.
She breathed me in. “Hmmm. You smell delicious.”
Oh. My. God.
“Lilacs. I love lilacs.” She stepped away, her arms opening for Cross.
He stepped back, stone-faced. “I’m good. Thanks.”
“Right.” She lowered her arms, running a nervous hand through her hair, and gestured inside. “Would you like to come in? Your father tells me absolutely no alcohol for you two.”
Cross frowned. “You let your son drink alcohol?”
Another laugh, one that reminded me of sunlight and beach waves. “Goodness no, but I’m up on all the new trends, and allowing your teenagers a glass of wine is apparently a newthing. Can you believe that?” She held out her hand to me. “I’m Marie, by the way. Sorry. I just went right in for the hug. I’m bad with boundaries. Blaise gets mad at me all the time. He says I maul his girlfriends.”
She winked. “Not that there are many. He’s not the girlfriend type of guy. I once worried he didn’t have a sex drive. He’s always kept so quiet, I wasn’t sure if he liked boys or girls, or both—because, you know, that’s a thing too. A good thing. A healthy thing. An equal thing. I love all things.” Her hand was still hanging between us. She didn’t seem to notice. “And I ramble when I’m nervous. Your father told me not to share that I’m nervous, but I am. I’m human. What’s your name, dear?”
I shook her hand, almost transfixed by her rambling. I didn’t know what to do. “Uh. Bren.”
“Bren!” She beamed at me, clasping my arm with her other hand. “A lovely name. You’re so lovely. You could be a model. Has anyone ever told you that? They should, if they haven’t. OH MY GOODNESS!”
I jumped back.
Her hands flew to her chest. “You’re the girl Malinda told me about. I love Malinda. She came over a couple weeks ago, introduced herself, said she and I would be good friends. And we have been. She gives me all the gossip, because as you can see, I’m a little too friendly when you first meet me, but I promise I calm down. I get quiet, even. Believe it or not, people say they forget I’m there, but not right away. I always have the nerves. Do you have nerves? You probably have nerves. Cross, how are your nerves?”
Cross’ dad appeared then, coming down a hallway. “Oh! Come in,” he said. “Marie, honey.” He swept a hand down her back and pulled her to his side.
Cross stiffened.
His dad didn’t notice, busy extricating her hand from mine. “Let’s, uh, let’s not manhandle Bren. She has pretty strong boundaries.” He smiled at me as he pulled her hand away, gently. “If I remember correctly?”
“You do, sir.”
“Sir!” Marie burst out laughing, slapping a hand to his chest. “She called you sir. I’ll be ma’am now.” Her laughter faded, abruptly. “Oh, God. I don’t want to be a ma’am. Please don’t call me ma’am.”
My lips pressed tight, and I just shook my head. “No, ma-—” I caught myself.
I was either extremely polite and formal, or I looked at adults with suspicion. There wasn’t much of a middle ground with me. That was something I should work on.
“Uh…” Cross’ dad moved back, his arm still around Marie’s waist. “The food’s almost ready, if you guys want to come in? We have beverages. Water? Milk? Juice? Soda? What’s your preference?”
Without missing a beat, Cross said, “Beer.”
“Beer coming up.” He laughed, sounding forced. “Good one. Pick something appropriate for your age.”
“Beer is. What do you think we had last night?”
“Well, it’s not prom night, your girlfriend wasn’t arrested, and you’re in my house.” He coughed. “Marie’s house. Different rules.”
Cross was eerily still.
