Crew Princess (Crew Series Book 2)

by Tijan

  I knew who she was referring to. “Now you’re going into business with them.”

  “Yeah. And it’s going to work because everyone in our group loves the person first over the business. That’s the only way it’d work for us.”

  I motioned around the room. “I didn’t know anything was wrong in here until Taz asked one day why I didn’t have any pictures. Guess that stuff is normal to other girls. I never knew.” I wasn’t making sense. “You’re—”

  We didn’t do emotional talks. Heather or me.

  In some ways we were so alike, in other ways, so different.

  Remembering that, I closed up, pulling away. My words dried up, and I swallowed them. Restlessness settled in. I wanted to get this shit done—go to Cross’ parents’ house where everyone was meeting for pictures. Go to the pre-dinner thing. Tabatha was hosting a shindig for more pictures, and then we were off to the dance.

  And after the dance, I could breathe.

  I could slip away.

  I wouldn’t have to see all their moms taking pictures anymore. I wouldn’t have to see their dads grudgingly there, or proudly there.

  Even Cross would belong to his mom, his dad’s during the picture process. He might stick to me, but they would be there—hopefully playing nice with each other—wanting his attention, wanting to talk to him, hug him, love him. And deep down, he would love it. That’s what he needed.

  Cross was normal.

  I breathed out, catching myself only after I’d started. “I don’t know why Cross is with me sometimes.”

  A choked gasp came from Heather as she sat down. “Excuse me. What?”

  Shit. I’d already said it.

  “Nothing.”

  “Oh, no, no, no.” Heather’s chair scraped against the floor as she shoved right back out of it. She was across the room, trapping me.

  I was going to bolt, but she caught my arm and sat beside me. “Hey.”

  I didn’t look. I couldn’t.

  I couldn’t believe I’d even said that. I mean, it wasn’t my place to question Cross’ decision, but…I was.

  “Hey!” Heather tapped my chin. “Look at me. Talk to me. What is going on in that head of yours?”

  The floor creaked.

  I froze.

  Heather cursed.

  We looked up.

  Channing stood in the doorway, his eyes pained and one hand resting against the doorframe.

  “Why’d you say that?” he asked.

  “How much did you hear?” I asked over a lump in my throat.

  “All of it, but that—why did you say that, Bren?”

  He stared at me, knowing. He knew why I’d said that. Why was he making me say it again? Explain it?

  “You know,” I hissed.

  “No.” He shook his head. “No. Not that. I don’t know that. Tell us, Bren. Now.”

  “It’s noth—”

  “It’s not nothing! Tell us. Tell me! Let me in!”

  “Channing.” Heather jumped to her feet.

  He flung a hand out, silencing her, but his eyes never left my face. “No, Heather. This is brother and sister shit, and Bren is about to say something real and significant and something that’ll make everything make sense. I can feel it in my bones, and I am also feeling this huge red alarm saying to push her. Make her talk. Make her open up, because if you don’t, she never will.”

  He took a step forward. “I don’t know why this came up, but there’s a crack. You opened it, just slightly, and I’m here. I’m pushing my way in, all the way in. Let. Me. IN!”

  My emotions swirled inside of me, picking up speed, power, like a tornado trying to shove out of me.

  Then, silence.

  Heather didn’t dare talk.

  The room was so small, so heavy.

  Channing was breathing hard, but he grated out, “Bren. Please.”

  I crumbled. That last please. It was soft and delicate and so unlike everything else, and he was right. There was a crack. It had formed this morning and grown all day long, and I couldn’t deny what was staring me in the face.

  I was different. I was not like those other girls, but it wasn’t because I chose it. That’s what I’d told myself. I grew up brainwashing myself into thinking I was better, elevated above them, but that wasn’t the truth.

  I was just a girl, hurting, and I didn’t know why, but today I could see it. I couldn’t put my head down and ignore it, not anymore, and the reason for that—I wasn’t sure. I just couldn’t hold myself back anymore.

  Channing was in my face, breathing hard, his eyes pleading, so stricken, and I—I felt her.

  The hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

  She was here, and as I stared at Channing, his eyes widened too. The hairs on his arms stood up. He could feel her too.

  “You…” he started.

  A surreal warmth oozed into me. Calming. Peaceful.

  “Channing,” I whispered.

  “Shit,” he cursed softly.

  Two steps and I was in his arms. He wrapped me tight, pulling me to his chest.

  I could hear Heather’s soft crying.

  She was here. I knew it. I could feel her.

  “Oh my God,” Channing breathed.

  Words would’ve cheapened this moment.

  I knew and I knew Channing knew, and that was enough for me. I was supposed to meet Cross at his parents’. That’s what everyone planned—meet there for the first round of pictures. And Taz had gotten involved when Cross said he was going to get ready at my place. She insisted, with full-on sobbing and her face looking like a puppy dog’s, that he needed to do it at home. For her. This was the last prom for both of them, and I’d been fine with it.

  That was then.

  This was now.

  Leaving my house, I felt raw and unsettled. For the life of me, I couldn’t fold in on myself this time. I assumed I was healing. Maybe?

  Who gave a fuck?

  Well, I did. Because I felt exposed and vulnerable, and I was trying my hardest to pretend otherwise. No one could know. No one.

  As I headed out the door, I heard Heather whisper to Channing in the living room. “What was that? What happened?”

  He didn’t answer, and I froze, unable to make myself leave. I needed to hear what he would say, if he would say it.

  “It was—I don’t even know what to say. Something happened.” A pause, and his voice dropped even lower. “I can’t stop feeling her. Is that normal?”

  “Who?”

  “My mom.”

  Our lives, the way we were—tough. We either bled or we made others bleed. We didn’t share or cry on each other’s shoulders, not unless we were so broken that it was the only way back. If Heather made fun of us or said something mocking, I was going to stab her. Straight up.

  “I feel my mom sometimes,” she said after a moment.

  I waited, but I didn’t hear anything else, and knowing the time had come and I couldn’t put if off anymore, I opened the door. Stepped out. I closed the door and went down the sidewalk to my vehicle.

  It meant something, hearing Heather take what had happened seriously. It meant a lot.

  And somehow, it made me less vulnerable than before.

  Maybe I should’ve thought more on that, but I was past the emotional breakthrough limit for today. I was exhausted, and the night hadn’t even started.

  I had a picture session to get through.

  Parking and walking up the sidewalk to Cross and Taz’s house, I heard them all inside.

  I stepped up on the front porch and stood there. I waited. I savored. The feel of my mom was still with me. And when I went inside, I would lose her. She’d fade, replaced by Cross, the guys, Taz, everything else.

  A car door slammed behind me.

  I was jerked out of my trance and looked to see who was coming, my mouth opening in surprise.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Heather laughed, tossing her hair over her shoulder. She cut across the lawn as
Channing rounded the back of his truck. He tossed his keys in the air, catching them and throwing me a grin.

  His eyes sparked. “You really think we’d let you deal with this alone?”

  Heather drew up beside me and squeezed affectionately.

  Channing strolled up the sidewalk. I rolled my eyes, but his smirk just deepened. His phone rang, but reaching into his pocket, he didn’t even look to see who it was. He silenced it and put it back. He stopped in front of me.

  “You’re a Monroe. You’re going to prom.” He leaned in, his forehead pressing against mine for a second as he laughed. “Where the fuck else would we be? We’re your family.” He stepped back. “You don’t have Mom and Dad today, but you have us old folks instead. Deal with it.”

  Heather moved in, hugging me, and she whispered, “I know I’m usually not like this, but will you bear with me?” She stepped back, and Channing’s arm came around her shoulders. “I’m feeling a mom moment coming up.”

  “Plus.” Channing jerked his head up, indicating inside. “We’ll enjoy scaring a few of those parents in there. Some don’t know how to react with us breathing the same air.”

  Heather shoved her elbow in his side, but the door opened just then, and Cross was there.

  “Bren?”

  Then Taz yelled his name, and he cursed, stepping outside. Shutting the door, he moved aside. “Fucking hell. She’s worse than our mom. I swear.”

  His voice trailed off as he looked at me.

  And I had no voice because I was looking at him.

  He was…

  “Bren. Holy shit. You’re—”

  …HOT!

  “—fucking gorgeous.” He blinked a few times. “Wow. Holy, just—wow.”

  Channing snorted, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Yep. You use that education, son. We’re going inside.” He tugged Heather behind him, and as the door swung shut, we heard Taz asking where I was.

  Channing murmured something, but the door shut, leaving Cross and me on an empty porch.

  I suddenly felt self-conscious again and crossed an arm over my chest, grabbing my other arm. “Hey.”

  He was still taking me in. “Bren.” Cross lifted his head, his voice rough. “We’re not going to prom.”

  “What? We aren’t?”

  “Nope.” He took my hand, digging in his pocket for his keys. He pulled them out, leading me to the sidewalk. “We’re getting a hotel room. I’m getting us champagne, wine, roses, chocolate dipped things, and we’re spending all night there. No one else. And condoms. I’m getting a fucking Easter basket of condoms.”

  I laughed, tugging him back. “Stop.”

  He whirled, his hands coming to my hips. Breathing hard, looking all fierce, he peered right into my eyes. “I’m not joking. I’m totally fucking serious.” His hands flexed. “I do not want to share you right now. Or, like, ever.” He groaned as he kissed my forehead. “You are fucking beautiful. I don’t have any other words. I just want to keep you all to myself and—”

  He stopped.

  I pressed a hand to his chest, smoothing it down.

  “Bren?”

  I wasn’t looking up anymore. There were tears again, and I was trying to keep them at bay, but he was making it tough.

  I loved him so much.

  I needed him so much.

  I yearned for him so much.

  And hearing these words, feeling his need emanate from him, I couldn’t talk.

  Finally, after a few breaths, I choked out, “I told Channing and Heather today that I didn’t know why you were with me.”

  “Bren. What?” His hand came to my arm. He pulled me close.

  “All day today, I was missing having a mom. I was dreading coming here tonight because I’d be the only one without a parent. And I’ve thought it for a while, wondering why you’re with me. I thought it was because you had parents. Normal parents. Even their divorce is normal. And a sister. You and Taz are so close, but you’re normal.” I lifted my head now. I wanted him to really hear me. “I’m not normal.”

  “Bab—”

  “No, listen to me.” I should’ve moved out of his arms, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. So I stayed and poured out my heart, within his shelter. “I’m not. But you are. I used to think I was above the Normals, but today, tonight, I had to stop believing that lie. I’m not above them. I’m not special because I have your love, and Zellman and Jordan’s friendship. I act it. We act it, but we’re just tougher. We’re meaner. We’re loyal to an extreme. That’s how we’re different, but we’re not above them. I think in some ways, we’re what’s wrong. Not the school. Not the Normals. Us. The crews.”

  “Bren.” He shook his head. “Where is this all coming from?”

  An image flashed in my head. Jordan with Tabatha. Zellman following Sunday. Taz and Race together. Then Cross and me.

  I was holding everyone back.

  “You guys never talk about college.” It was the elephant in the room. “I know it’s because of me. You’re protecting me, but I know you guys have all made plans.”

  “No, we haven’t. We—”

  I stopped him. I had to say this, standing separate. My body against his defeated the purpose.

  I took a step away. “I’m holding you guys back. I know I am. I am terrified of moving into the future. I’m terrified of losing you guys, but I will. People change. Lives evolve. And I am too. I will too.”

  I looked away, my throat swelling with emotion. “Maybe it’s the counseling. Maybe I’m truly healing, but...we can’t be a crew if we don’t grow as individuals.” Fuck. The Badger would be so proud of me. “That interview I’m going to do, it’s going to be me letting you guys go.”

  “Bren!”

  “Not letting you go as a crew, but releasing you from putting your futures on hold for me. That’s all. I’m not being a good crew member if I don’t deal with this stuff inside of me. I cannot stand still, paralyzed about who or what I’m going to lose while you guys are all growing. That’s it. You’re growing. I’ve refused to grow. But I can’t, not anymore. I would be selfish to hold you back. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  “Baby.” He tucked his head down and kissed my neck. His entire body shuddered. “I’ve never been more in love with you.” He tipped his head back, staring deep at me. “I love you. YOU. No one else would fulfill me. No one else would make me feel excited for the day, grateful for the day. No one else makes me feel like I’m half a person. My other half is in my arms. No matter what happens in the future—where we go, where we don’t go—this stays.”

  He touched my chest, his palm just under my throat. “You. Me. This stays. Because it has to, because I need you that much, because I’m not Cross without Bren. It’s that strong for me, and I don’t give a shit if you want to grow separately. We can both grow. Zellman. Jordan. They can grow too, but we grow together. That’s how it’ll be, or I’m not letting you go.” He shook his head. His arms tightened. “You and me, we’re going to die standing here. I’m that committed. Fuck prom.”

  I grinned at him, and I realized I’d been wrong.

  The love and warmth and peace that I’d felt from my mom, I still had it.

  Cross made me feel those things too.

  “I love you so fucking much.”

  He smiled at me, resting his palm to my cheek. “I love you so much fucking more.”

  “Please. Shut up,” Zellman whined from the door. “We’re crew. We’re tough. Shut up. People could hear you. We have a reputation to uphold. Jeez.” He knocked his hand against the doorframe. “Oh, and get your asses inside. Taz’s order, not mine. I guess your mom got into the wine, and she’s about to pass out on the couch. Taz wants the pictures done before someone pukes or makes an inappropriate pass at Bren’s brother. Sunday’s mom is drooling. It’s embarrassing.”

  We posed.

  We did Charlie’s Angels poses. We did funny faces. We did let’s-pretend-we’re-ninjas poses. Animal poses. Sultry. Sexy. Mysterio
us. Sunglasses on, sunglasses off, sunglasses thrown in the air.

  I wouldn’t have been surprised if Tabatha’s mom requested we do a cheerleader triangle pose, but she didn’t. They did bring out pompons, which I refused to hold.

  Zellman did a cheer all by himself.

  Jordan banned Zellman from ever touching pompons again.

  The next stop was Tabatha’s house, where she got text alert after alert. Everyone hugged and kissed. Cross and Taz’s mom was tipsy, with pinot grigio breath. Tabatha’s mom blinked back tears, smudging her eyeliner, and also sending Channing a hungry side-eye. Heather eventually put a stop to that, literally standing in front of him with her arms crossed and her chin raised in challenge.

  The Normals had joined us here, and there were food and booze on the low-down, handed out in coffee mugs and prepackaged in juice bottles. One guy kept walking around with a loaf of bread, and I only saw the alcohol when he opened the bottom. An entire bottle of Jack Daniels had been stuck in there.

  Taz complained about the waste of bread.

  Race’s mom was out and out crying. She wasn’t even trying to contain herself. Race kept going over to her and hugging her, and that’d just make her cry harder. After the pictures, he stood with her, her head buried in his chest as he patted her back with a pained expression on his face.

  Sunday’s mom just had a perpetual frown. I heard her whispering to her husband about “getting pregnant on prom night.” I guessed Sunday hadn’t broken the news yet.

  Then we piled into a party bus to go to the restaurant. As we entered, Taz informed me that she and the girls had decided against the limo. It was “so millennial” of them, and we were trying to go against the millennial theme. Party bus it was, and I couldn’t complain. More leg room, and more room to get out of the way when Jordan and Zellman started humping the stripper pole.

  Some of the Normals came with us, and that’s when I saw Lila had infiltrated our walls. She was sitting on a guy’s lap, wearing a low-cut black lace dress. His hand was on her hip, but her gaze was on Cross. It was all Cross, and seeing me looking, she licked her lips and adjusted her legs, opening them wider. The dress barely covered her, and it covered her less now. The guy’s hand dipped down, smoothing up the inside of her thigh. He didn’t look or stop talking to his buddy, but there was a secretive grin on his face.