Page 111 of The Forever Crew (Adamson All-Boys Academy 3)
“We were sure you were dead!” they howl, rubbing their faces on either side of mine.
My mom chokes on tears and holds a tissue up to her mouth to stifle her sobs. My dad just backs off a few steps, watching over me like a hawk.
“Would you two back off and let her breathe?” Ranger growls, still clearly shaken up by the confrontation with his father. I mean, knowing your dad is part of a crazy cult is one thing, but hearing the bullshit from the horse’s mouth? Not easy. “How are you feeling?” he asks me, putting one of his hands over my blanketed feet and giving my toes a squeeze.
“I’m okay,” I say as the twins sit on either side of me, releasing me from their maniacal hugging. “Plus, I get to tell everyone I meet from now on that I survived an attack from a rich, powerful cult.”
Church’s lips turn up into a smile, one that actually reaches his eyes for once.
“I was afraid I’d never get to see you in that wedding dress,” he says, making my dad bristle.
“Same,” Spencer agrees, glancing briefly Church’s way before turning back to me. “I would’ve died if you had, Chuck.”
“Archie, maybe we should let them have a moment?” Mom suggests, giving my dad a look from across the hospital room. His nostrils flare and his face turns that signature color of his, but he relents, moving over to press a kiss to my forehead before he steps out. I notice he doesn’t quite close the door behind him, but that’s okay. Like I said, parents are dicks.
“Seeing you lying on the ground in your dress, all covered in blood …” Tobias starts, taking my hand in his and entwining our fingers together. “Pretty sure that sight is going to haunt me for the rest of my life.”
“You’re one tough bitch, Chuck Carson,” Micah says, looking down at his lap. I can tell he’s trying to be upbeat, but he’s still got tears in his eyes when he looks up and grins at me. “God, we hated you so much when you showed up at Adamson. Now we’re all, like, clinically obsessed. What have you done to us?”
“I’m like a splinter—once I’m in, you can’t get me out without bleeding!” I say, trying to be funny but totally and utterly fucking it up because I’m a shitty comedian. Also, I got stabbed. That’s a great excuse for everything now, huh? I can just mess stuff up and say I got stabbed. Should work for at least six months or so.
“That’s the worst metaphor I’ve ever heard in my life,” Ranger says, sighing like he’s releasing a ton of pent-up stress. “After you almost bled to death in the woods? What is wrong with you?”
“I … got stabbed?” I suggest, and he sighs, his face softening up. Oh, well. Damn. I’d get stabbed more often if it’d get me out of awkward situations like this. Could also possibly get me extra Jell-O. They do serve Jell-O in hospitals still, right? “I read once that Jell-O is made out of bone marrow—” I blurt but Tobias shuts me up with a kiss, pressing his mouth against mine and managing to convey every emotion he’s feeling with just his lips. “Oh, wow,” I say as he pulls back and looks me in the face with those moss green eyes of his. “That … was impressive.”
“We love you, Charlotte,” he says, and then pauses, like something’s just occurred to him. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” Micah says, drawing my attention back to him. “More than I feel comfortable admitting. Because, you know, I don’t want to get committed or anything.”
“You’re committably in love me with me?” I ask, sniffling. I almost died in the woods. I get to cry.
“Committably isn’t a word,” Church lets me know softly, and I smile, looking over him, Spencer and Ranger standing on either side. “But also, we’re very glad that you’re not dead.”
“I’m glad you’re not dead, too,” I say, smiling and then pausing, the expression slipping off my face. “Wait, what happened at the prom after I passed out?” Church watches me from those beautiful amber eyes of his. “And why weren’t you affected by the drugs?”
“He spent the whole night drinking that stupid sparkling water, the kind with the corks that the waiters were bringing around, and not eating anything,” Spencer says, glancing over at his friend, like they might’ve had this discussion while I was passed out. “We’re guessing Aster drugged our desserts. Makes sense now why she was so determined to join the Culinary Club.”
“And there I was, hoping the punch would be spiked,” I say with a shake of my head. “Just … not with whatever it was that they gave us.”
“Everybody’s okay,” Micah adds, “but if you thought being the only girl would get you a lot of attention at Adamson, that’s got nothing on your status now, as the survivor of a crazy cult attack.”
