The Original Crowd (A Whole New Crowd 0.50)

I grabbed a glass and put some ice in it.

Tray hopped on a counter and ate his pizza.

I drank my pop. All was silent. Both of us just staring at each other.

When he finished, he put his dish away and asked, “Want to watch a movie?”

“Sure.” I followed him downstairs, remembering his suggestion Saturday morning. He’d offered to watch a movie that night, guess he hadn’t planned on throwing a party.

I was amazed again at the size of the media room. Curling up next to him, I felt his arm wrap around me while he turned the TV on and chose a movie. Tray must’ve figured I didn’t care, because he chose the latest action-filled suspense thriller on his TiVo.

After the second car chase, I yawned and nestled closer against him, feeling his hand slip around my waist.

“Tray,” I mumbled tiredly.

“Hmm?” He sounded distracted.

“What are we doing?”

I felt his body stiffen so I rephrased, “I mean, we’re skipping school. We’re watching a movie. We’re not messing around. We’re not talking. What are we doing?”

“We’re hiding. Thought that was your thing.”

“It is.” I sat up. “Sometimes.”

“Thought I’d hide with you today.” He grinned, tracing a finger down my cheek to my lips, where he traced their outline before leaning in for a lingering kiss.

I’m all about not protesting today.

Before the kiss could go further, I pulled away and asked, “Seriously, what’s going on?”

“I just don’t feel like dealing with Amber and those guys.”

“And if they pushed?”

I waited, fully noticing that he paused before answering.

“Then,” he shrugged, “I don’t know.”

“Do they know about your dad and your brother?” I asked suddenly, a thought forming in my head.

“They know about my dad—everyone knows about my dad—but not my brother.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t go around telling people my business. And because he was already in college when we moved here,” Tray replied, watching me intently, gauging me.

“So why’d you tell me?”

“Because you understand that stuff,” he said simply. “Why do we have to have a fucking conversation about it?”

“Because I want to,” I simply said right back. “And because you know a lot of my shit—I should know your shit.”

“And what happens when we’re done screwing? My stuff goes public?” he asked roughly.

My eyebrows raised at that one. “You see that happening?”

“When we’re done with this? Or my life going public?”