Page 71 of Crew Princess
Jordan waited until Z was halfway back to the school, far out of earshot. “He’s not messed up over Sunday pressuring him to be in a relationship. She’s pregnant.” He met each of our stares. Not a blink. “Z’s not in love with Sunday. We all know that, but he cares about her. The baby daddy is an Academy kid. The prick wants her to abort it.”
Oh. Whoa. I hadn’t seen that one coming.
“Wasn’t she drinking this weekend?”
“She was acting. You know the drill. Fit in to get by, and all that.” Jordan sighed, standing. “What do I do about Tab?”
Cross and I shared a look.
“She’s not in our crew.” I was extending a forgiving olive branch here. See? Strides. This was a big one for me. “I don’t like what she did, but she was vague. That helps.”
Jordan didn’t respond at first. But his shoulders slumped. “Yeah.” He sounded exhausted. “She should’ve told me, though. I can’t get around that.” Pain flared in his eyes, and he blinked a few times, a mask falling over his face. “I’m going to need to drink tonight. Heavily.”
Cross leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “Then we’ll do that. No one except Wolf Crew.”
“Goddamn. Sounds perfect.”
Jordan stood. “I’m off to catch up to Zellman, make sure he’s not doing anything stupid.”
I asked, “Are you going to be okay?”
His eyes met mine, the pain flaring up again. “No, but that’s why I have you guys. Tonight.”
Cross and I echoed, “Tonight.”
I waited until he’d gone down the bleachers, heading toward the school.
“I act normal in there?”
Cross expelled a deep breath, leaning forward once more. “Shit. Yeah. Why’d they target you?”
I shrugged. “I’m sure I’ll find out.”
He glanced over at me. My hand lifted to rest on his back.
“Talk to your brother about this Becca chick,” he said. “See what he has to say.”
“Okay.” I rubbed his back in circles.
There was deeper shit happening now, though. Zellman was hurting for someone he cared about. Jordan felt betrayed by someone he cared about. Our other two members needed us.
“Tonight,” I murmured.
Cross sat up, lifting his arm around me and pulling me in. He nuzzled my ear and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Tonight.” He ghosted a kiss down to my lips. “Why do I feel like I always need you? Why can I never get enough of you?”
I pulled back, just enough to look him in the eyes. “Because you do?”
He grinned. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
After school, after a quick trip to get phones, I reported to Zellman and Cross how the rest of the day went. How I took note of every single thing anyone said in their interviews. How once they saw me taking note, they clamped up. How that was agoodsign.
Zellman slouched down in the truck, his leg up on the dashboard. “I’ll say that’s a good sign. Maybe people will just shut the fuck up. Crews ain’t no one’s business but our own.”
Cross didn’t respond. Neither did I. There was really nothing more to say so instead, we resumed waiting for Jordan. We were outside the police station, and he’d gone inside to make his statement.
His parents went in with him.
