All true.

My man knew me.

Just then, Jordan gave the girl a hug before heading our way. She lingered, waving, and he glanced back over his shoulder. When he turned to us, a cocky smirk was on his face. He flashed us a grin, tossing his bag in the back. “I promised some people food. Can we stop at the grocery store quick?”

He didn’t wait for a response because he knew the answer, jumping into the back, and then we were off the next second.

This was what we did for each other.

Rides. Helped with food. I mean, those were the easy things we did for each other, but there was more. Ride or die. It’s how we always had been, and driving through Cain, easing into the grocery store parking lot and parking, I took a beat to appreciate them. Jordan headed in first.

Cross was right behind him, giving me a look.

I gave him a nod, indicating he should go ahead, and with a small frown, he did, but I knew he’d ask what was up with me later.

And there was something up with me, but it was nothing bad. It was just the opposite.

My biggest plight in life was finding my place. With all the bad that had happened in my life, my mom dying, getting assaulted, my dad going to prison, and so many other things, this, being here with them, was the easiest to handle of them all. It was also the most uncomfortable.

What I said to Hawk hadn’t been a lie. I meant every word.

I was a fighter. That’s what I did in life. It’s who I became. It’s who I was. It’s just how I was. I fought and I survived. The girl whom Jordan just got a number from, or the girl waiting at the house for him, those were normal girls.

Since he had broken up with Tabatha, since those girls started showing up, I hadn’t judged. I hadn’t been unfriendly. They mostly stayed away, knowing I was one of Jordan’s ‘family,’ that’s how he introduced all of us, and when they saw I was with Cross, I either got looks of envy or looks of relief. But my point is that I listened to them. I heard how they spoke, the words they used, what their hopes were, what their concerns were. Getting good grades. Passing a class. Losing ten or twenty pounds. Getting invited to certain parties, depending on who threw it, and the reasons for why hadn’t they been invited and others had, etc.

They liked makeup, dressing sexy.

A few girls came over who cared about getting a good job one day. They knew the hours of the library versus how some knew the best hour to show up at a fraternity party. Jordan wasn’t being picky, but even with the more studious girls, I still felt it.

It was just there.

A feeling. An underlying dynamic that bristled against me. It was like an allergy, working against me, and that no matter what, I wasn’t like those girls. But Hawk. The girl with the warrior braids, smoky-eye makeup, who sat in a room and talked to me about not being a liability to her family, that girl…she was like me.

She gave me heat, but I shot it back, but even then, I knew that I was like her.

We defied society rules. We fought and survived in the darkness, and somehow, we thrived among it.

Watching Jordan, how he was handling life at college, watching Zellman, even watching Cross—they were happy. And I wasn’t saying that I was unhappy, but I was lost. We were crew, and because of that, they’d been in the darkness with me. We formed out of necessity, and then that bond strengthened into a vow of family. There was no crew system anymore, here or in Roussou. It’d been disbanded. The administration had won, so what did that make us?

We weren’t fighting anymore. That seemed childish, but that world of violence, it was in me.

I was realizing that a part of me needed it. Maybe that’s why Channing sent me to Coug r Lanes. He knew exactly what I would be needing?

Yet, I didn’t know, and stepping inside the grocery store, I didn’t think I’d have it figured it out by tonight.

Coming up behind Jordan and Cross, who were both in the meat section, I skimmed the cart. There was a box of tampons. The brand and size I used.

“B. You want chicken or steak tonight?” Jordan was the one who asked.

Cross was watching me, a bit more intently than normal. He knew I had deep thoughts flowing around in my head, but I replied, “Chicken.”

He grabbed four packages, hefting them into the cart. “You’re low, right?” He was indicating the tampons. I gauged him, but he wasn’t being sarcastic or teasing. It was as if he asked if I wanted to get bread. No big deal.

I had to smile. “Yeah. I’m getting low.”

Cross met my grin with one of his.

Jordan didn’t notice. He was looking at a list. “Okay. I want to do kabobs for the group tonight. So we’ll need skewers and vegetables. Got the meat already.”

I indicated behind us. “I’ll grab the skewers. Vegetables are over there.”

“Got it.” He took off, pushing the cart in front of him.

“You okay with us doing dinner for Jordan’s study group?” Cross had stayed behind.

I shook my head, stepping closer to him. Our hands grazed against each other.

“No. I’m good. As long as there’s no problems, I like having people at the house.” I moved my hand, my pinkie entwining with his. “I got used to it at the end with all of Channing’s friends coming over.”

“Yeah.” Cross fell silent.

This was one thing.

I had said Channing’s name. Channing was linked to my father. The same father who was now out of prison and whom I hadn’t spoken about since he left the same night he showed up.

Cross asked that night, but I shook my head and told him I needed space. I didn’t want to talk, to process yet. I didn’t even know what I felt about that situation in order to process.

He’d been giving me space. All the guys had, but his eyes sharpened, and I knew that space was about to end really fast.

I was waiting, almost holding my breath until he let out a sigh. His hand came to my arm, and he drew me against him, tucking his chin on top of my head. “You need to open up one of these days.”

I raised my arm, sliding it around his back. “I know.”

I didn’t say another word. Neither did he.

He was doing exactly what I’d asked of him…giving me more space.

Then I had to laugh. “Was it Jordan’s idea for the tampons?”

He eased back, the corners of his mouth lifted. “Yeah. Just walked by and grabbed the box. He didn’t even say a word to me about it.”

Yeah. Family. Even during the awkward things.

BREN

Cross was studying in our bedroom when I decided to join the party downstairs.

The music was blaring, but no one was in the living room. A few girls were at the kitchen table, books spread out, notebooks, computers all over. Plastic cups littered almost every corner, too, along with bags of chips and some cookies one of the girls brought over. They looked up and froze at the sight of me. One nudged the other, saying something under her breath, and the other one brightened up. “Oh! Hi. You’re Jordan’s roommate.”

I’d been here when they came in. There’d been quick introductions, but the food was quickly dispensed, so her saying that was more of a nicety. Everyone went outside to eat since Jordan and Zellman had the grill going. That was four hours ago, and leaning forward, I sniffed one of their cups. “Is that the trick to studying? Getting drunk at the same time.”

The girl who had nudged her friend started giggling. Clamping hands over her mouth, she started laughing even harder.

The one who spoke to me shot her friend a look, clearing her throat. “Uh. Sorry. She had an edible two hours ago.”

The third girl hadn’t said much or done much. She remained quiet, leaning over her computer, but she pushed it back and sat back in her chair. “I’m so screwed for our test on Thursday.”

“Yeah. No kidding.”

“You’ll totally kill this test. You always do, Miss I Like to Set the Curve.”

The girl who’d been mostly quiet snorted. “Yeah, right. That is most certainly not me.”

All three fell silent, sharing a look.

Then one said, dropping her voice low, “Oh, from what you said earlier, are you talking about that one girl?”

“Hmmmm.”

The Giggler wasn’t giggling anymore. She bit out, “The one dating Blaise DeVroe?”

“The soccer player?”

Giggler nodded, her head high and her eyes bright. “She’s dating him. It’s disgusting, if you ask me.”

They were talking about Aspen Monson, someone I learned over the summer had been the girl who saved our asses one night. Or saved my ass. If the cops had caught us at a party, I would’ve automatically gone back into juvie. Partying on parole and running from the cops was frowned upon. She was also kind and not a girl for girls to be bitching about, and someone I cared about.

She was also dating Cross’ brother, and the two were so opposite that they were perfect.

Go figure that one out.

“How’d someone like that get someone like him? I mean, she’s pretty, but he could do so much better.”

One snickered. “No doubt. Such a cow.”

The screen door opened then. Jordan came in first, a few guys following him inside. He saw me and gave me a chin jerk. “Hey, Bren. Where’s our boy?”

“Studying upstairs.”