The Original Crowd (A Whole New Crowd 0.50)

“Would not,” he scoffed uncomfortably.

“Should we go?” Tray saved him, glancing at the clock on my nightstand. “It’s midnight.”

“Yeah, sure.” Carter stood up gratefully. Tray paused, once, to meet my eyes before he left, pulling the door shut behind him. A few minutes later I heard them leave through the front-door and climb into Tray’s SUV.

I recognized the sound of its engine.

*

Monday dawned bright and early. Mandy, as usual, had left for school long before I’d even stepped foot in the kitchen. She was an early bird, and me, I’d like to aspire to be one of them. Someday.

But today I got the joyous opportunity of dropping Austin off at his school. Mom and Dad didn’t approve of his little buddies, so I got stuck with a pissed off eighth grader. My ‘have a good day’ was met with a middle finger.

That made my day.

Parking in my usual spot, I realized school had a different light to it. For some reason, I felt more…comfortable. Don’t ask me why.

Larkins met me on the lawn, as usual.

“Hey, Ice Bitch.”

There was my God-given name.

“Hey, Larkins. You get some action Friday night?” I teased, but was met with a flush. I raised my eyebrows. “You did, didn’t you?”

He shrugged, shoving his hands in his front pockets. “Yeah, well, we had fun. It was a fun party.”

“You called her the next day, right?” I asked, watching him intently.

“Huh?” Larkins asked, confused.

“You got action, you should’ve called her.”

“I wouldn’t call you.”

“I’m not Molly Keeley,” I pointed out. “You have to treat her differently than you would me. Or girls like me.”

“I didn’t call her.” He paled.

Well. What’d I expect?

“I’ll take care of it,” I assured him. “You do want me to take care of it, right?”

“Yeah. Yeah. That would be awesome,” he insisted gratefully.

I saw his hackey-sack buddies waiting in the background. “Your buds look impatient.”

“Oh,” he murmured, nodding again. “Thanks, Ice Bitch. Thanks.”

“Larkins.”

“Yeah?” He turned back.

“The name’s Taryn. Anyone else call me what you do would be in the hospital by now,” I murmured, bypassing him into school.

When I entered the school, there were no homecoming signs to greet me. There was a God.

But—hell—I just saw a poster for state championships plastered on the wall. It was decorated with little footballs, pompoms, and each jersey number of the players.