Page 132 of Crew
"Huh?"
Cross' head moved back and forth between us as we spoke. He held a hand up now. "Stop. I'm confused."
"I am too." I lifted my beer. I could see two, but I knew I was only holding one.
"I asked if you were still pissed at me." Jordan was scowling. That wasn't good.
I looked to Cross. "He's asking if you're still pissed at him." I waved my beer toward Jordan. "Answer him." I leaned closer. "Am I holding two beers?"
"One." Cross turned to Jordan. "You're asking Bren?"
"What?" Jordan rubbed his forehead. "I'm not pissed at you, or Bren." His hand fell to his mouth, and his eyes widened. "I can't feel my lips."
I pointed the right beer at him. "Maybe they're pissed at you."
He wasn't paying attention. He began rubbing his lips together. "Am I doing something? I'm trying to move my mouth around."
Cross grunted. "You're drunk. You both are."
"You too." I pointed at him.
"No. I stopped after I left you on the porch."
The porch.
I gulped. The porch had been hot. Like, hella hot. Like, I didn't think I could walk through it without squeezing my legs together--that kind of hot. Cross got girls. I knew he always had, but if he talked like that to them... I felt a bit sick. Something squeezed in my chest. I think it was jealousy.
All those girls. Man. He'd been with a lot of them, and I'd been with Drake. Stupid Drake. Six-month Drake.
Drake acted all cool, but he was a fumbler in bed. Not the best there was. Well, I couldn't compare. It'd just been Drake for me. Stupid bumbling Drake.
I think I'm on repeat here.
What was I doing?
Oh yeah. Jealousy. Stupid girls.
Jordan is pissed at Cross.
I scowled across the fire. "Why are you mad at Cross?"
"Huh?"
Zellman began giggling. He rolled so his face was almost all the way into the ground. His giggles only got louder.
