Page 109 of Crew
Once we were going, he noted, "You were quiet tonight."
I yawned, slouching down in my seat, getting comfortable. "I'm fine."
"You sure?"
I nodded. I was. I didn't know why, but I was. Rolling my head toward him, I asked, "Where are we headed?"
"I thought maybe we'd go to our spot."
Oh.
"That sound okay with you?"
It wasn't the same as the pride I'd felt at dinner, but another warm sensation flooded me. I knew I was smiling, and I was staring, and I didn't care. Going to our spot would be the perfect ending to the night.
I said as much. "I think that sounds great."
We both fell silent until we'd settled in to watch over my old house.
As I curled down next to Cross, my eyes growing heavy, I couldn't help but think that tonight had been one of the best I'd had in a while.
"What are you doing with my cousin?"
Two days later, I was grabbing my books out of my locker when Alex came up behind me. Deja vu hit me, hard.
I turned around. This couldn't be right.
He couldn't be asking me that question.
Nope. It was.
"Are you kidding me?" I growled, slamming my locker shut.
My response quieted the entire hallway. My needle that went from caring, to kinda caring, to beyond caring, to not giving a shit--it went straight from lying dormant all the way to soo not giving a shit. It didn't matter who watched this scene play out, because it was high-time something happened to Alex.
"You're in my face?!" I asked him. "After what your crew did?"
He glowered back at me, looking like he'd been forced to seek me out and wanted to be anywhere else. His forehead creased. "I got my ass kicked on two occasions now because of you. That has to count for something. My own cousin beat me up."
I closed my eyes and waited. I counted to five before I looked at him again.
"You're an idiot. Are you aware of that?"
Alex tipped his head back.
Yes. Apparently, I was the one irritating him. So silly of me.
I was starting to feel a little reckless. It'd been nagging me, for reasons I didn't understand. Maybe I'd been waiting to be called to the office after the teacher/security video thing earlier this week. Or maybe all the stuff with Cross had filled my head with confusing thoughts and more confusing feelings. Or maybe it was because I'd been watching this fucker walk around the school, and every day that he thought he got away with hurting me, he got more and more cocky.
"Alex, do you know what your problem is?" I didn't wait for him to respond. "Because you do have one, and that's why you're tangling with my crew. It's not actually me."
"Yeah, it is." He flicked a hand toward me, short and dismissive. "It's because you're in a crew, you're in that crew, and you're a female. I wouldn't have these problems if you were a guy."
I'd expected an idiotic response. I got an asinine one instead. Goddamn, he was pissing me off. Anger rolled over in my stomach, but I didn't move.
If I moved, I'd attack.
"You are the reason the term victim-blaming was created," I said slowly.
