Page 86 of Crew Princess
He dropped all pretense, his eyes scanning the store once again, lingering on the street, before he lowered his voice. “Did you know your previous principal remarried last summer?”
I frowned. The fuck? “Principal Neeon?”
He continued as if I hadn’t spoken, “That his new wife is your new principal’s sister?”
A female Kenneth?
I asked softly, more cautious, “Where are you going with this?”
Again he ignored my question. “And that Neeon’s daughter suffered a breakdown over the holidays. She had to be shipped to a boarding school, one that’s not just about basic high school education.”
He was trying to tell me something. His eyes flared, hidden meaning there, but I wasn’t following. He was dropping hints, wanting me to follow the trail.
“Drake.”
“Did you know Broghers’ sister is a cop?” That lone eyebrow rose again. “She’s a cop here, in Fallen Crest.” His gaze went flat after that.
He was done. He’d said what he came in to say, and I wasn’t surprised when he walked around me, almost in a complete circle.
“Think about all those tidbits. Aren’t theyinteresting?” With that, he left.
One last look at me before he turned and strolled out, just as I heard the store clerk coming back.
She clapped, still beaming. “I hope you don’t mind, but I pulled a few more dresses for you. They’re all ready.” She leaned in, whispering, “And between you and me, I talked to the manager. I told her I might’ve found a local model for our store fashion show. You’d get paid, and of course, we have to make sure the dress looks right on you, but I think anything will look amazing. Are you ready? Aren’t you excited?”
Yeah.Excited. Not the word I would use right now.
But, I still needed a dress. “Where’s the dressing room?”
My house was in chaos when I walked inside.
When I’d texted Cross as I was heading back, he’d said dinner was almost ready. I expected Channing, Cross, maybe Heather.
But I heard voices from the curb where I had to park. The driveway was full. Walking up the sidewalk, I glanced back to the street. Five Harleys were parked, along with Taz’s Ford, Jordan’s truck, and I was fairly certain Race’s car. What was going on?
I walked inside, and the noise bombarded me at the same time as the smells. Grilling. Hot dogs. Burgers. Voices giggling, shrieking. Some deep laughter and baritone murmurs. All with low music underneath: Beastie Boys, “Sabotage.”
A party. That’s what was happening.
Zellman was playing air guitar when I went to the kitchen. Jordan was doing air drums, sitting at the table. Two wooden spoons were his drumsticks.
If “Make Some Noise” came on next, I was going to kick them out to the street.
“Bren!” Taz waved at me from the basement stairs. “Come down here. We gotta talk.”
The guys stopped their air concert and waved at me. “Heya, Bren.”
“Where’s Cross?”
Jordan pointed to the patio with one of his wooden spoons. “I wouldn’t go out there, though. Your brother has his hand on Cross’ shoulder. His crew are all out there too.”
I nodded, saying to Taz, “One second.”
My dress hung over my back. I wasn’t sure if she’d seen it yet, but I didn’t want to advertise how late I was in being prom-prepared.
She frowned. “What’s that?”
“Dry-cleaning. For Channing.” Uh… “He has a favorite shirt.” I hurried backward. “I should go hang it up.”
