I nodded, my neck so damned stiff. “Yeah.”

She picked up her glass again, gesturing outside with her phone. “I’m going to let Race know what I’m doing, and then I’ll give her a call. Are you sticking—”

I gave her a pitying look.

She stopped herself. “No. Your crew isn’t out there.”

I stood up from the counter, nodding toward the front door. “I’m going to call the guy—”

“Bren Monroe!”

Tabatha Sweets had come inside.

Sunday and Monica were right behind her, both with differing expressions. Sunday’s mouth hung open, but she recovered quickly, smoothing a hand down her hair. Monica looked less shocked and more snarly. She didn’t hide her sneer.

I looked from them to Taz and asked, “You guys have a uniform protocol now?”

All wore the same sort of wraps, but in different colors. Tabatha wore blue. Monica had red. Sunday had black, and all with bikinis underneath. The only one not wearing high heels was Taz, and they all had hair extensions with their hair down.

Not one person looked like they’d gone swimming.

Tabatha laughed. “We just spend a lot of time together.” She came forward as Sunday and Monica hung back by the table. She came right into the kitchen, making Taz move to the side so she could open the fridge. Refilling her glass with juice, she leaned against the spot Taz had vacated. “How are you?”

I should’ve expected this. She was circling the wagons, bringing Taz in. She had her new backup. I glanced at Sunday. She’d tried approaching me in the fall. That hadn’t gone well. But Tabatha was bigger and badder. I’m not talking physically. Power. I was usually lost in the crew world, but I knew enough to know that Tabatha Sweets was the top of the top, for the Normal world.

“You’re friends with Taz now, I hear.”

Her fake smile fell flat. “I am. I’m trying to be anyway.”

I shook my head. I was going to call a spade a spade. “No, you’re trying to get to Cross. You’ve been trying for years.”

I waited for the denial.

She lifted a shoulder. “If I wanted to use Taz to get to her brother, I would’ve done it freshman year.” She looked over to Taz. “I’ll be honest. Race liked you. That’s part of the reason I reached out, and yeah…” She glanced at me. “Some of it might’ve been about Cross. Can you blame me? Your brother is the best-looking guy in school,” she told Taz. “But we’re friends because I do like you.”

“Are you serious?” Taz’s lips opened in surprise. “You were using me?”

“I’ve been over here how many times now?”

She waited.

“Like thirty?” Taz said.

“And how many times has your brother been here, much less talked to me?”

Taz considered it. “Maybe once?”

“Once. One time. And that was just seeing him walk inside, talk to you, grab something from his room, and leave again. I never talked to him. I didn’t even try, right?”

“Right.”

Taz was buying it. She was licking it up like cream left for a cat. She wanted to believe it, and wariness heightened my dislike for this girl. She was good, damned good.

She was going to be a problem.

Cockiness flared in Tabatha’s eyes as she swung her gaze my way.

I stepped up to her, keeping my voice low, because she wasn’t worth the extra energy. “You’re going to want to hope Race doesn’t leave.”

Now her lips parted. Confusion pulled her eyebrows together.

“Because if he leaves, there goes Taz’s anchor in your group. We’ll find out then if you become that anchor instead.”

“Bren, come on.” Taz stepped to Tabatha’s side.

I felt that itch to pull out my knife again. It was small, but it was there. This girl was going to weasel her way into my friend’s heart.

That was her weapon of choice.

I only had one more thing to say. “If you hurt her, I will slice you.”

I was willing to make an exception to my reformed ways. And I wanted Tabatha to see the truth, so I waited. One beat.

I meant it.

When her eyes widened, I added, “I’ll get you in just the right spot so it won’t completely heal. Every time the temperature changes, it’ll ache. If it starts raining, it’ll ache. When you get older, you’ll throb when you wake up in the mornings. That pain will be me. You’ll be haunted by me. You won’t get rid of me for the rest of your life. Even when you get really old, I’ll always be there. You’ll have to take pills to try to erase me, but it won’t last. I’ll always come back. That’s what I’ll do, if you hurt her.”

Tabatha looked at me in shock, her eyes wide and unmoving.

A pin could’ve dropped and be heard in that kitchen. No one made a sound.

I moved around her and walked to the front door.

She’d gotten my message. I wasn’t like the rest of them.

Two days later, I was just settling back into being a student again when I heard Jordan’s voice over my shoulder.

“Did you threaten that Sweets chick?”

I rounded in surprise, not from the question, but from the person asking. Jordan fell against Taz’s locker next to mine.

“Tabatha Sweets?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

I scowled, throwing my book inside my locker. “How’s that your business?”

“I’m your crew.” He folded his arms over his chest. “And it’s her pussy I’d like to get into this weekend.”

“Bad idea.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

I stepped back, my other book in hand.

Jordan reached over me to shut my locker. Then we fell in step, heading to my next class.

As usual, a path cleared for us. But since I’d gotten back to school, there’d been more looks, more whispers, more attention. Some of my teachers weren’t the friendliest, but I understood that. I would’ve felt the same in their shoes, and I kept my promise to Channing: I was the no-attitude girl. There were court-ordered rules I had to follow. One legit said I had to cut the crap. So I had, or I was trying.

Ms. Bagirianni had gotten my participation in her charity committee approved as community service hours. And as I’d anticipated, everything got rolled together, so she was my court-ordered counselor too. The first committee meeting had been yesterday after school, which went splendidly. I said nothing. I did nothing. I just sat. I was happy with the end result, but my counseling was supposed to start tomorrow morning. That would not play out the same way. I was already prepared for another power struggle between The Badger and myself.

“You know my answer.” I shook my head. “Why are you even asking?”

He groaned, looking at the ceiling. “Are you kidding me? She’s not going to fuck me now that one of my crew has scared the shit out of her.”

I shrugged, veering toward the classroom. “She’s been wanting to fuck one of our crew for years. I doubt I scared her away. She won’t discriminate against you.”

“Wait.” He grabbed my arm. “She wants to fuck me?”

I could see Cross coming up behind him, and as I pulled my arm free, I nodded at him. “She wants to fuck him.”

“What’s up?” Cross lifted his head in greeting.

Jordan turned around. “Since when does Sweets want to fuck you?”

Cross started to laugh. His eyes slid to mine, narrowing slightly before looking back at Jordan. “Since she started fucking guys. I don’t know. Forever.”

“Did you fuck her?”

Cross looked at me again.

I only smiled. I was waiting for this answer too.

Saturday morning hadn’t been our only time together. He’d slipped into my bed the last three nights, coming in through the window. He disappeared when we woke up. We just made sure that was before Channing was up too.

The nights were torturous and drawn out, but so damned good. How we hadn’t had sex yet was beyond me. Cross’ restraint was both infuriating and amazing.

“No.” He pulled his eyes from mine and gave Jordan a dubious look. “I’d never get rid of her.”

“But that’s you. If I screw her, she won’t feel the same about me. One good pound and I’d be in the clear.” He clapped a hand on Cross’ shoulder. “Thanks, man. I’m going for it this weekend.” He looked at me, a plea already in his eyes.