Page 65 of Crew Princess
Two, Ireallyneeded to start bringing my knife to school with me again.
Becca had a stool just behind the camera, to the right.
After seeing the entire camera setup in its entirety, I was awed but also nervous about the direction of this whole thing.
Becca talked to the librarian a bit more, then Kenneth. Another older couple, probably in their early fifties, were there as well. They all conferred.
The librarian left first.
The principal next.
Becca remained in that circle, her head bent with the other two, and I had a feeling maybe they were the real bosses. They kept going over a list and pointing at items on there, speaking to Becca. She nodded until they asked a question.
She pointed at me. “Her,” she said.
They looked at me.
The woman’s hair was almost silver, but it didn’t look old on her. It looked regal. With her thin frame and her hair pulled up in a loose bun to frame her angular face, she could’ve been a model in her day. Long arms, long legs. There was an intense perusal in her gaze as she looked me up and down.
She didn’t speak for a long time. The man didn’t either, but it was her that pulled me in and held me captive. I wanted to shift around, adjust my shirt, scratch my face. But under her gaze, I couldn’t. Kenneth was a bonehead at times. Becca was young and smart, but with this woman, there wasn’t anything. She was an impermeable wall. It was as if she was reaching inside of me, and she could sense my inner thoughts and emotions, though. And just like that, the old Bren sprang to life.
I almost sighed.
She’d been getting teased awake more and more today, and I was not liking it. I had a balance going. Yank too deep inside of me, and that old Bren would come out, and no one wanted that. Me included.
Fuck this. Fine. If this old broad was going to psychoanalyze me—because that’s what I felt she was doing—I was going to let her see me completely. I’d been standing back in the corner, but under the weight of their focus, I stepped straight out, almost to the center of the room. I stood facing them directly—arms at my sides. Shoulders back. Head up.
The woman straightened as well, her chin lifting. She wore a long, loose skirt with a cashmere sleeveless sweater. She also had an infinity scarf, but it was a whole lot richer than what Becca was wearing.
I caught a brief glimmer of a grin, her eyes flashed, and then she nodded. I was dismissed.
I felt like an animal at an auction. Someone gave their measly last bid on me, and the sale was decided. Exit left for my slaughter.
“Okay. That sounds like a good plan,” Becca said, and the other two left through the side door.
Becca turned and came toward me. “Let’s bring in the first girl, shall we?”
An excited buzz filled the room, and Becca clapped her hands together. “Let’s get this started.” She neared me, lowering her voice. “The first girl we’re interviewing is this one.” She pulled up a file and Tabatha Sweets’ face stared back at me. “We have a general list of questions to go through with her, but while we’re warming her up, getting her comfortable for the camera, I’d like you to jot down some more personal questions. You know, questions only you might know to ask her—the questions she won’t want to answer. You can write them as the interview goes too, just anything you think we should ask.”
The fuck?
She stepped away, speaking to her team, and I was half aware of the door opening again. Someone stepped in, and I heard Tabatha’s voice.
I’d started reading over the questions but looked up, hearing how so not-Tabatha Tabatha was sounding. She had her arms wrapped around herself, and she was tugging fiercely at the bottom of her shirt. Her hair had fallen forward to cover one eye, and she swung her gaze all around the room—as if she couldn’t fully see anyone but was trying to pinpoint their location through sound.
Until her gaze found me. She halted, back-tracked, and then the blood drained from her face
“Oh no.” Her teeth found her bottom lip.
I looked from her reaction to the questions, and that’s when I knew my gut had been right.
There were general warm-up questions about what she’d had for breakfast that morning, general questions about her, her age, her family, and then a whole other list of notes.If the subject is tense, find common ground. Annoying younger siblings? Have them laugh. Favorite hobbies. Talk about what makes them light up at first. Move to harder questions once trust is established.
My heart had fallen past my stomach, all the way to my feet.
I got to another section.
Are you in a crew?
