Crew

  But because we'd still had our dinner last night, I'd heard about the huge party at Manny's. Channing had gotten the repairs done, and Heather had agreed to allow Roussou people back in. Yesterday was their first day back, and somehow it had become the first official party of the year. It moved to a field after Heather eventually kicked everyone out, and it lasted late.

  I knew that much because Cross had crawled into my bedroom at five in the morning. I offered him the bed, but he only took a blanket and curled into a fetal position on the floor. He never woke when I got up for school, and I hadn't the heart to bother him. He was still sleeping when I left.

  Half the crew people either hadn't come to school today or were hungover. Half couldn't see where they walking. The bags under their eyes were like dumbbells, and a couple guys got jostled, then just went at it in the hallway. If Mr. N. was smart, he'd let 'em all sleep during detention.

  Taz, on the other hand, had an extra bounce in her step.

  She shook her head. "No." She moved her books to her other side, combing through her hair with her free hand. "Half the girls were there."

  "Speaking of the girls--" I started toward my locker, but two got in the way. I braked, an irritated sound slipping out.

  They looked up, a smart-ass retort ready, but it died when they saw me. One squeaked and the other put her head down and put on a burst of speed, darting out of my way.

  Taz grinned, leaning against her locker as I opened mine. "That never gets old." She adjusted her books in her arms. "And okay. I have to ask you for a favor."

  I grabbed my notepad and book, then shut the locker. "I don't do favors."

  Her eyes cast to the ceiling. "I know that's not completely true. You'd step in front of a bullet for my brother, so this isn't that big a favor."

  "He's crew." Those weren't favors.

  I waited for a reaction from her. Sometimes she'd get all pissed at the reminder that Cross was crew or Cross was more special than her. I never knew for certain when it might happen, but she usually got all pissy right about now. If she'd join the crew, she'd have equal footing to him. Well. Not really. Cross was more important than everyone, but Taz would've moved up above Jordan and Zellman. Easily.

  Her anger never came.

  And that told me I was going to hate whatever this favor was.

  "You know on Monday when I told you I hadn't joined the cheerleading squad..." She leaned forward, her eyes widening.

  I didn't say anything. I waited.

  "Okay." She blinked a few times, shaking her head. "Dramatic pause aside, instead of joining them, I actually got them to join a committee with me. It's the new thing we're doing with Ms. Bagirianni. She's our supervisor."

  Nope.

  No way.

  I knew what she was going to ask. I heard the excitement in her voice, and it wasn't going to sway me.

  "I'm not going to be a part of anything The Badger's doing."

  "What? Why?"

  "It's The Badger. The fact that you're willing to spend time with her alarms me. Greatly."

  "Oh, come on. She's not that bad."

  I lifted an eyebrow. "You've never been analyzed by her, that you know of."

  She opened her mouth, then stopped. "Are you serious? You won't help me because the school counselor is involved?"

  I snorted. "Do you not know me? Like, at all? Do you not know your brother?" He and the rest of our crew shared the same sentiment about The Badger.

  She looked so frustrated, a pout forming on her face.

  I patted her on the arm. "The answer to that is like you asking me if I'm crew. A big fat duh, yes. It's like cosmic karma. It's a rule in the universe. If The Badger is involved, I am not. Plain and simple, unless it's mandatory or court-ordered."

  "That's--" Her mouth fell open again. "That's insane! I need your help. Really."

  "Let me put it another way. The Badger is the police. I'm a criminal. The two don't mix. Ever."

  I started for class, but Taz fell in step next to me. She adjusted her books again, then once more. I was tempted to grab them and hold them for her. She was making me antsy with all the adjusting going on.

  "I really need your help," she said again. "We're doing a charity event, and we need to go around town to get sponsors. Half the businesses here are connected to crews. They won't sponsor us unless a crew person asks them."

  I snorted. "As it should be."

  I veered toward my classroom, but Taz picked up her pace. She got in front of me, holding her books up like a shield. "Stop. Please. Talk to me for a second."

  People were filling in behind her, casting us curious looks.

  Jordan was heading our way too, towering over everyone, and his gaze locked on mine. His eyebrows moved together, and he began to slow down.

  "You're crew royalty," Taz pleaded. "And this event is a big deal to me. This charity is a big deal to me. If you come on board, Sunday and Monica--they'll shut up. I can feel how they think I'm a joke and I can't get it done. I'll get it done with your help." She softened her tone. "Please, Bren. You'd be helping me so much with this one thing."

  This one thing wasn't going to be just one thing. I could feel it. It meant a meeting, which meant more meetings, and then more meetings. One afternoon would be dragged out to thirty, and she wasn't listening when I said it was like someone asking a criminal to socialize with a cop.

  Shit would go down, and not for the good.

  "I'm actually doing you a favor by saying no."

  Jordan had stopped behind Taz. All three of us were now in the way in the middle of the hall, but no one said a word. There was enough room to go around, but not comfortably. A few people squeaked through on the other side of Jordan. Most went around on the far side, and a few cast us dirty looks. When they saw me watching them, they changed their tune. We weren't being fully considerate here, but this was a standoff.

  "You'll do anything for my brother. Help me with this. Please."

  I glanced up to Jordan, and he laughed silently, his shoulders going up and down.

  "What do you think?" I asked him.

  Taz whirled around, saw him laughing, and smacked his arm. "If I wanted your help, Pitts, I would've asked. You have no input here."

  He rolled his eyes and smacked her hand away gently. "Bren will do whatever she wants. She asked me as a distraction."

  He pointed to me, and to prove his point, I stepped backward into the classroom. I flashed Taz an apologetic smile. "I really am doing you a favor. You'll thank me later."

  Her cheeks flushed, but she didn't say anything. It looked like she wanted to, but Jordan moved around her. As the bell rang, he turned around and slowly closed the door in her face. He shook his finger, still watching her through the window like he was tsking her.

  She made a motion, and he began laughing again.

  Dropping into the seat next to me, he pointed toward the door. "What was that about?"

  I dropped my books on the table and leaned back. "She wants me to scare the other girls away."

  His grin widened. "Why'd you say no to that?"

  I smiled back, but the teacher had walked into the classroom, so we stopped talking.

  The two football players in front of us turned around to talk to Jordan before class officially started, and two girls on his left began flirting with him.

  I zoned out until I felt a soft punch on my arm.

  "What?" I rubbed where he had hit.

  Jordan was looking at me, and so were the football players. The two girls were pouting, but Jordan had his back to them, so they were effectively cut out of the conversation.

  He rolled his eyes at me. "I didn't hurt you, but where were you last night?" He pointed a pen at me, then stuck it in his mouth and began chewing on it.

  I frowned at him. This wasn't normal Jordan, but the two football players were listening. He was asking for their benefit.

  He knew I'd had dinner with my brother, then stayed home, but I only said, "I did my own thing
last night."

  He gave me the slightest of winks.

  That told me all I needed to know. One of the guys had asked him to ask me. He'd decided to play along instead of telling them it was none of their business.

  "You missed an epic party." One of the guys leaned forward, his hand resting on the table just a few feet from my books.

  I looked at it, then to Jordan, and he shrugged again.

  "I'll catch the next one."

  "Yeah. You better." His friend decided to join in. He was nodding and smiling. "It was awesome. Best party of the year." He and his buddy grinned at each other. "For now."

  "Yeah," one of the guys grunted.

  I shot Jordan a look.

  He had covered his mouth. He kept silently laughing as the teacher stood to start the lesson. The two guys turned around, but I punched Jordan in the arm.

  A girl gasped.

  I knew people were watching.

  Jordan still had his head down, and I leaned close to him. "Thanks for that."

  He sat up, wiping a hand over his mouth. His laughter had subsided, slightly.

  "Come on. They like you. It's cute."

  Cute. I winced.

  I did angry. I did hostile, violent. I did fucked-up.

  I didn't do cute.

  I was sitting at a table in the library for study hall when Cross walked in. He pulled his hood down over his face.

  Oh yeah. He was still hung over.

  "Mr. Shaw." Mr. Penski's voice boomed across the library. "What are you doing in here?"

  Cross slowed, raising his head so Penski could see his face better. A slight cocky swagger came out, and he held up a piece of paper. "I'm transferring seventh period, Mr. Penski."

  "Uh-huh." A scoff of disbelief. Mr. Penski took the piece of paper. His frown moved from Cross to me. "If there's trouble..."

  He let the threat go unsaid, but Cross nodded and headed my way.

  He sat across from me, glancing over his shoulder.

  Mr. Penski and the librarian were both watching.

  I understood why.

  If something happened to one of us, the other would jump in to help. It could get messy, and it had at times. The recent brawl at Manny's was evidence of that, but this was study hall. And we were in the library. Chances of anything happening were slim to none.

  "You switched?" I asked. He'd come to school fifth period, showing up during lunch.

  "Ryerson's been cocking off in Latin this week. Getting worse than it was before. Figured it was better if I wasn't in there."

  "Really?"

  He surveyed the room and saw the Ryerson cousin. His top lip curved. "I didn't know this one was in here."

  Race had been watching us, but hearing Cross, he picked up his stuff and came over to our table. He sat next to me, facing Cross.

  "You talking about me?"

  Cross shot back, "Yeah." His hazel eyes darkened; they almost looked brown.

  The chances of something happening were going up, and judging by the others watching, they knew it too. I caught the same looks I saw every time a crew scuffle broke out. People should start carrying popcorn with them.

  "Say it to my face then."

  I had to give props to Race. He wasn't flinching.

  Cross seemed pissed, and this side of him was scary, dangerously scary.

  "Your cousin is getting a big fucking mouth, and I'm not enjoying it." Cross leaned back, raising his chin. "We going to have the same problem with you?"

  Race's lips pressed together. "When are you going to get it?" He glanced at me. "Anyway I thought he was being fine. He's been good all week."

  Cross narrowed his eyes.

  "Cross," I started, dropping my voice. Too many people were trying to eavesdrop. "I--"

  "We can talk later," he said to Race. "Your cousin was going on about how his crew is the biggest and baddest. You seem to have put yourself in the middle for whatever reason, but if Alex keeps saying the shit he's saying, there's going to be a crew war. You ready for that?"

  Race's mouth opened an inch. He was surprised, but I wasn't. Sadly.

  This was Alex being Alex.

  Yes, he'd apologized after the one fight, but his head had been swelling steadily since then. I wasn't surprised to hear any of this.

  Normal Alex was cocky all the time.

  He liked to start fights.

  He seemed to have developed amnesia after his apology. He'd stayed away from me, but the guy who'd seemed like a leader was nowhere to be found now.

  "Is there a problem here?"

  Mr. Penski had materialized at our table.

  Cross leaned back. He kicked his feet out and shook his head. "Nah. We're fine." He and Race shared a look. "Just getting on the same page, that's all."

  Mr. Penski swung his gaze to Alex's cousin.

  "Yeah." He gestured to Cross. "What he said. Same page. We're besties now."

  "Mmmm-hmmm. I'm sure you are." Our teacher held his pen in the air. "I won't tolerate any crew business--not this year, not anymore. This is a zero-violence area." He ambled back to the librarian's desk, his hands out like he was talking to himself.

  Cross shook his head. "They talk like we ran the school before. It was never like that."

  "The cameras are new," I pointed out.

  He glanced over. "Still, though. We could never fight in a class. Why are they so anti-crew this year? It's like it's their new theme."

  "Maybe it is," Race said.

  We turned to him.

  He held his hands up like he was surrendering. "My stupid cousin aside, maybe Principal Neeon went to a summer seminar? Bullying is a big deal now. He could've gotten that twisted so he thinks crews are the bullies. Or they're treating you like you're gangs."

  Cross snorted. "We're not gangs. There's no blood in and blood out bullshit. The most illegal crap we do is drinking. We protect our own above anything else--that's the only similarity. That's what a crew does." His gaze went to a table were a few jocks were sitting. I recognized one as the football player who'd been talking to Jordan in class before. "If anyone's going to bully, it's them."

  "You're stereotyping." Race grinned.

  Cross shrugged. "I stand by what I said. We're not the bullies." He nodded to me. "Can you imagine the target that'd be on our backs if we were?" Then his smile fell away. "But Alex is starting to shoot his mouth off. He could be a problem for all crews if he doesn't rein it in."

  "You don't think he can handle being their leader?" I looked at Race, but spoke to Cross, "You think maybe he could talk to Drake?"

  "About what?" Race asked. "I'm not crew. He won't talk to me about that, not unless I join theirs."

  Cross narrowed his eyes, tilting his head toward me. "Jordan will push you on this. Do you want to talk to Drake? The guy's right." He nodded at Race. "Drake won't talk to him unless he's in the crew."

  I wanted to growl. Cross had gentled his tone because he knew this was the only course of action. If Alex kept popping off, I might have to reach out.

  I didn't want that. I didn't want to deal with Drake again.

  But I nodded. "If I have to, I will."

  Race nudged my arm with the back of his hand. "I could go with you."

  I didn't respond, but shared a look with Cross. He knew I wouldn't want him there. If I wanted anyone with me, it'd be Cross. But it was a moot point. Drake wouldn't talk if Race was there. If anyone should go, it should be my brother. Channing could scare Drake into talking, but that meant I'd have to spend more time than I already was with the new brother-extraordinaire persona.

  Thumbs down to that.

  I lifted a shoulder in response to Race's suggestion.

  After that we got down to business--we actually studied. For all the trouble we caused, we weren't bad students. Usually. Or Cross wasn't. And judging by Race's notes, he seemed like a good student too. And it wasn't that I was a bad student, just not super motivated. Twenty minutes in, they were both reading, and I was watching the ot
her students--the good ones according to the school's staff and administration. I wasn't a part of the normal universe, but from where I sat, I had a feeling they were just like us. Maybe worse in some ways too.

  Cross was right. My gaze switched to the jock table. I remembered walking to a basketball game and seeing some of those guys stuff two freshman into lockers.

  If my crew had done that, there would've been a reason. And it wouldn't have been those two guys that got stuffed. They'd been the nerd types. I had a hard time imagining either of them doing anything that would cause us to go after them.

  "You okay?" Cross had been watching me.

  Race lifted his head too.

  At Cross' question, Sunday and Monica looked over. I saw the envy flash in their eyes and sighed.

  No. I'd never trade places.

  If that's what it meant to be normal or a good student, I didn't want it. They didn't have the loyalty I got every day.

  When Cross asked if I was okay, he meant it. He wasn't asking so he could mock me later--something I'd heard Sunday do plenty of times.

  I nodded to Cross. "We should hang out with your sister more often."

  His head moved back an inch. "Where'd that come from?"

  Race looked over to where my attention had been focused.

  "She asked for my help," I told him. "I think I might actually do it."

  I watched Sunday and Monica again. They bent their heads together, whispering.

  Cross narrowed his eyes. "Are you serious? The Badger thing?"

  "Yeah."

  Fuck. I'd end up in jail. Somehow.

  "My dad can be one of the sponsors," Race offered.

  I was headed to the parking lot after study hall, and he had fallen in step with me.

  "What are you talking about?" I asked.

  "My dad's kinda wealthy. He owns a Harley-Davidson store, and it does well. It does really well."

  "How do you even know about the sponsorship stuff, though?"

  He ducked his head, a little sheepishly. "One of the girls already asked me. I'm assuming Alex told someone about my dad. He and my mom are divorcing. That's why we're here, and there's an underground fighting ring here. I wanted to get involved with that."

  His dad was rich. That meant he was rich, and he was going to fight like my brother?

  I shouldn't like this guy, but for some ungodly reason, he was starting to grow on me. Like an annoying itch.

  I stopped in the middle of the parking lot. "Are you offering your help because you want to get to my brother?"