Page 125 of Crew
I should've had my first clue when Jordan went unnaturally still at Cross' question.
I should've had my second clue when Jordan paled, and his eyes widened.
I should've had my third clue when his eyes didn't go to Cross, but to me.
But nope. I didn't catch any of those clues.
I'd been happy. I'd been distracted by how I wasn't unhappy, I wasn't in so much pain, I was starting to care about things.
None of that clicked until we reached the booth.
Jordan gulped, crumpling up his sandwich wrapper, and said, "Potomahmen."
Everything connected, in a slow and almost morbid way.
I was sucker-punched, by my own crew.
Because Potomahmen was the city that housed my dad's prison.
Cross swore.
Zellman frowned.
And Jordan paled.
That was all I needed to see. Guilt. He did this on purpose.
A flame exploded in me.
I opened my mouth, but Cross beat me to it.
"You asshole," he clipped out. "You know she doesn't talk about her dad. Ever."
Zellman kept looking from us to Jordan. His mouth opened, then closed.
"Come on." Jordan scooted to the edge of the booth and held a hand out. "Look, I was just trying to do something nice for you. With all the shit that went down, I know you miss your mom a lot, and so I thought, Why not bring her to her other parent? That's all. I swear."
He was lying.
"You knew this would hurt me," I shot back. "That's why you did this. You didn't want to fight Alex for me, but we forced you to do that. Then all that happened with Principal Neeon because of me, and I know you were pissed about that too."
He didn't know about my old house, and I never talked about my mom. He would've had no clue that I missed her. My stomach rolled like a sideways tornado. It wouldn't stop twisting around.
"You're a liar."
I hadn't itched for my knife in months. The judge had said I couldn't have it, but I got a new one. I had it on me. I couldn't go without it, no matter the consequences. That was one rule I couldn't follow, but I hadn't itched to use it.
Months.
I itched now.
I shook my head. "There's a reason I don't talk about him. There's a reason I don't see him. There's a goddamn reason I don't even let him into my nightmares."
"Come on." Cross took my arm and began pulling me toward the door.
"Where are you guys going?" Jordan stood, but he didn't come after us.
I almost wanted him to. I wanted to take him down. I wanted to fight--the need to embed my knife in him was strong. I could taste it. The smell of blood rose up in my nostrils, but that was a memory, one I thought had been long buried.
