The Original Crowd (A Whole New Crowd 0.50)

“Does that mean everyone’s coming over?” I asked, slightly alarmed.

“Well, yeah.” Mandy shrugged, spreading cream cheese on her bagel. “It’s what we do, especially when we skip. Duh.”

“It’s…oh…this isn’t a good time.”

“What do you mean?” Mandy grabbed the juice next, pouring herself a cup. “You want a cup?”

“No. I want…” I was at a loss for words. I got the feeling Mandy was just the warm-up. In about an hour, this place would be full of people.

When wasn’t there?

“Oh,” Mandy exclaimed, “Casners is looking for you. She’s got a beef with you or something. I would too after what you did last night. Thanks, Tristan was a treat the rest of the night. In between her make-out sessions with Garrett, that is.”

I had her tickets. No way was she going to pick a fight with me.

“What are you talking about?” I was tired. I’d been scared shitless this morning, for my life and Tray’s, so sue me if I wasn’t following along with this conversation.

“You know, her and Tristan. They’re, like, mortal enemies, by the way. Good job.”

“Oh.” That’s right.

“Tristan still has no clue, though. No one’s had the heart to tell her why Casners went after her last night.”

I was having a hard time caring.

“Oh.” Should I ask and pretend to care? “What happened?”

“You mean, who did Brent Garrett go home with last night?” Mandy was too energetic this morning. “He went home with Tristan. I just said they were making out the rest of the night. Aidrian Casners hates her. Although I think Tristan was really doing it to get at Amber. Those two cannot stand each other. I’ve never really figured out why.”

“Because Amber thinks Tristan is psychotic and thinks she’s the only person you can be best friends with. Oh, and because she thinks her and Tray have a star-crossed lover thing going on,” I rambled, stating word for word—or close enough to Amber’s statement.

Mandy gaped in shock. “What?”

“It’s what I heard.” I had officially became part of the gossip mill. Not a subject in the gossip mill, but an actual participant in the mill.

I needed to escape.

“I’ll be back. Just…make some coffee,” I instructed my sister, hightailing it out of there to the pool house.

Tray was pulling a shirt on when I rushed in and laid on the bed.

“We’re a pair, aren’t we?” Tray mused, sitting beside me on the bed and bending to grab some shoes.

“Mmmm,” I mumbled into his pillow.

Tray didn’t reply.

I rolled onto my back and asked, “Why does your place have to be the hang-out when everyone skips? People just show up here. Randomly. Like last night, they had a party when we were in here.”

Tray shrugged. “I’ve lived alone this whole time. I like it when people show up.” He flexed his knuckles, hissing in pain.

I sat back on my knees, crawling to sit beside him. I reached for his hands and gently inspected his knuckles. They were still open, raw, and bleeding.

Probably a good metaphor for Tray and me.

He grew still, in pain, as I looked closely at the sores.

“You need to disinfect these,” I murmured.