Page 32 of Crew Princess
Well then. “Thank you for your service?”
He bowed to me. “You’re welcome.” A cough, then he gestured around the room. “And thank you for this. You and your crew don’t realize this, but Zeke Allen and his friends have been bullying other students at our school on a regular basis.”
I frowned. “Why’s no one said anything?”
“Mr. Allen’s father is well connected in Fallen Crest. Who would they go to? The police? Our administration didn’t care. Principal Neeon laughed at them.”
Harrison was a good three inches taller than me, gangly, hair combed back with the ends frizzing up. I couldn’t tell if he would be considered a good-looking guy underneath those glasses or if it wasbecauseof the glasses. Fair complexion. Hazel eyes.
Noticing me noticing him, he swiftly set his frown back in place. “I do know who you are, if that’s what you’re wondering. You’re Bren Monroe. You’re crew royalty. Channing Monroe’s the one who started all of this devas—all of this…”
“Devastation.”
He paused. “Hmmm?”
I saw right through him. “Devastation. That’s what you were going to say.” I could see more of him now. “You hate this, don’t you? But you’re also grateful. You don’t like that there are crews in Roussou, but you’re also thankful because now we’re fighting someone who bulliesyou. Am I right?”
He paled.
“I bet a part of you wishes there were no crews, but a part of you worries what Roussou would be like without them. Am I close?”
A choked gargling came from him.
I turned to inspect the room, almost seeing it in a new light. I tried to see it from his point of view. The Normals looked more imposing. Tabatha and Sunday seemed prettier, but also bitchier. The leaders of each crew looked rougher, more dangerous. A trickle of fear slithered down my back, and I knew this was how someone like Harrison Swartz saw us all. I looked back at him, trying to feel the way he viewed me.
Dangerous. Deadly. And...what else was I feeling from him? Lonely.
Well, shit. That had me reeling. He was right, in some way. “You think I’m lonely?”
He blanched, another gurgling sound coming from him. “How did you…” He tugged at his shirt collar this time. “How did you know that?”
I shrugged. “A feeling. Do you?”
A helpless laugh came from him. “I feel like I’m going to get knifed if we continue this conversation.”
Right. Knifed. Because that’s what I did.
I knifed people. That’s why all this was happening.
I felt a rock in my chest. “If you want, we can stop talking.”
Except I didn’t talk to strangers. Except I didn’t open up. Except—why the fuck did I care?
I thought he was about to say something, but I moved away and went to find Cross. Why did I care about some kid like that? I felt his judgment. He looked down on me, on us, the crews. He’d been scared talking to me.
I didn’t actuallyknowif that’s what he felt, but a part of me understood it. I judged myself all the time. Why begrudge someone else? I found myself watching Harrison again. If there hadn’t been a crew system in place, what would his life have been like? He was being bullied by some rich prick from Fallen Crest Academy, so who’s to say he wouldn’t have gotten that in Roussou? But maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t happening because of the crew system, because of us.
Maybe, just maybe, we weren’t all so bad after all?
Then Jordan called out, “Okay. Is everyone here? Because we need to make a plan, foreveryone.”
The plan was simple, but effective. Everyone had to move in pairs.
It was more of an encouraged guideline, but I noticed most everyone from Roussou followed it during the street dance that night. Moving through the crowd, Cross was my partner, and our job was easy: watch for trouble.
Of course, that didn’t just mean from the Academy Crusties. Cross and I were crossing the main road, a block down from my brother’s bar, when I felt him brush up behind me. “Moose.”
Shit.
