Page 40 of Crew Princess
Taz couldn’t say the same. She was beyond buzzed, which Cross and Race were shaking their heads over. I was more open-minded and accepting. Yeah, I surprised myself. Taz wasn’t slurring her words, but she’d told me for the eighth time how she loved me and viewed me as a sister.
After the ninth time, Cross finished his beer. “Okay.” He turned to Race, who was on a log parallel to us. “I’m thinking it’s time my sister goes home.”
Race gave Cross the slightest of nods. “Have you tried taking her home when she gets like this?” He raised his eyebrows. “Not so easy. Your sister gets feisty.”
“Fuck yeah, I do!” She burped, raising her beer in the air, and surged to her feet. Jumping up on the log, she hollered just as she started to fall. “Hey, everyone!”
I grabbed her legs, steadying her.
I don’t think Taz even noticed. She raised her beer higher, her shirt lifting from the movement. “Who’s here from Roussou?!”
A cheer rose up.
“Hell yeah, we are!”
“Yes!”
“Us!”
“Boo.”
She waited until they quieted, burped again, and yelled out, “Raise your beers, fuckers! ’Cause we’re Roussou, and we’re proud! Helllll yeah!”
Another roar went over the group nearest us, traveling to the other trucks, along with a few grumbles.
Cross groaned. “Like I said.” He hit Race’s leg. “Take her home, fucker.”
Race glared back. “You take her home. She’s your sister.”
“She’s your girlfriend.”
“Boys, seriously.” Tabatha sauntered over, sitting on the empty log across from our fire.
She was alone. “Where’s Jordan?”
“Checking on Zellman.”
I pointed to the next truck. Zellman was in the back, a girl on his lap. “He’s right there. And the point of a buddy system isn’t to leave while your partner is checking on someone else.” I rose to my feet, already scanning the area.
I hadn’t been taking stock while we were sitting, mostly because it was nice to relax and talk with Taz and Race. But now, seeing nine trucks spread out over the area, much smaller bonfires throughout and all the people walking around, I was a little taken aback at how many people were here. The lot was huge, and who knew how many were in the woods.
“Where is he?” I asked under my breath as Cross and Race climbed up on their logs.
I couldn’t see him.
“What the fuck?” Race growled, shooting Tabatha a look. “You dropped the ball, Sweets.”
She’d been all cool and relaxed, but now she stood with us. “What? How far could he get…?” She trailed off as she began looking too.
“What direction did he go?” Cross asked.
“I—” She gulped, starting to pale. She clutched her beer. “I don’t know. He just said he was going to check on Z, then come find me.”
I went truck by truck.
Truck one, no Jordan.
Cross moved to stand next to me. “Which one are you on?”
