Page 27 of Crew
"We don't fight like you do." I started for the door, saying over my shoulder, "And just remember, you declared war first."
"You did what?" Zellman's hands fisted in his shaggy hair as he gaped at me.
I'd just finished relaying the entire story, while both Jordan and Cross kept quiet. Zellman was anything but.
"She's not going to give it up to me anymore. I won't be able to see the V anymore. My times in that pussy are gone. Man, Bren. Really? She felt so good. Those boobs." He raised his hands, as if squeezing them in the air. "God. They felt so good. So firm." He groaned, slumping onto the couch in Jordan's warehouse/shed.
Jordan had talked his dad into letting him renovate so it was half a party shed, and half a place for us to hang out or live (if need be). There were couches, a bed in the office area, and a large screen mounted on the side wall. Another corner had been turned into a gym. A punching bag hung there with a whole bunch of weight-lifting equipment. There was a target on one wall for darts, or knives if I wanted to throw something sharper at it.
"Dude, lay off her," Jordan said, crossing to the fridge for another beer. "You're not in love with the girl. You were just telling us that."
"She gives good head." Zellman shook his head. "You know how rare that is? Not a lot of girls give good head. They're not properly taught."
"Stop." Cross winced. He nodded to me. "They were in my room?"
"Yeah."
"They think they know, but they don't," Zellman kept on. "They really don't."
I didn't explain how I'd overheard them. Cross didn't have to ask, and I wasn't sure the other two knew of my weird habit.
"Taz was the most upset."
At these words, a different feeling came over the storage shed. A more serious one.
"Yeah." Cross didn't say anything else.
I tried to judge how he was feeling, but he was locked down. He wasn't letting me in. His face was schooled, but his shoulders seemed rigid, stiffer than normal. He crossed the room, reaching for the fridge. That whole motion seemed normal, almost casual.
There it was.
He was too casual. Normal Cross would've been pissed. He would've pulled that door open with a bit more force than necessary. Not this Cross. A shiver went down my spine. He was furious.
He took out a beer for himself, palming a second one, and he offered it to me. "B?"
Definitely furious.
"Not right now."
Zellman came over and plopped onto the couch again. "So Taz is upset. What's she upset about? I know there's a whole serious thing happening now, but you guys are not giving enough credit to what I've lost. Good head is like an animal on the endangered list. You gotta groom that shit, protect it, look out for it, hope it grows to be more, but now..." He kicked up his feet, resting them on the coffee table between the couches, and took a long drink from his beer. "I'm going to have to start all over with someone new." He stopped to look at Jordan, but he didn't say anything.
"Yes," Jordan countered. "You cannot still sneak around with Sunday. We're united."
Cross remained by the fridge, leaning into it. He pulled his foot up to rest against the wall behind him and stared off into the distance, lost in his head.
"So you poured orange juice on her?" Zellman asked.
I nodded, leaning back in my seat.
Jordan sat on the opposite couch from Zellman. "I'm kind of hoping that was caught on tape."
Zellman snickered. "Sunday must've been so pissed. She's got a mouth on her."
"We know!"
He paused, his eyebrows pulling together as he stared at us. "No. I meant she's got an attitude. She's a spitfire. That's what I like about her." He held his beer up in a salute to us. "But I can see where the misunderstanding happened."
I was tempted to throw something at him. I refrained, getting up instead. Cross opened the fridge and handed me a beer.
