Page 1 of Chaos at Westbrook High

Chapter 1

KAI

Two months ago

“Fuckin’ tequila,” I croak out, scrunching my face at the sun blinding the shit out of me. “Whose idea was it to sleep out here?”

“Yours,” my twin brother grumbles beside me, covering his eyes with his forearm.

I scan the mess we made last night, cringing when I spot the several empty bottles scattered across the deck. I don’t remember much, but I’m pretty sure that was my idea too.

The four of us are spread out across two huge daybeds on the roof of the hotel we live in—Wren and I on one, and our older brother, Damon, and our stepsister, who also happens to be Damon’s girl, Callie, on the other.

Leaning up on my elbows, I grab my phone and check the time. It’s nine a.m., meaning we only slept for about three hours.

“Why are you awake, Kai?”

“Why is your voice so loud, Wren?”

“It’s not loud.”

“It’s hurting my head.”

“You’re hurting your own head, dumbass,” he mutters, grunting when I shove my fist into his shoulder. “Ow.”

“Will you shut up?”

“You shut up.”

“Bitch—”

“Boys, I swear to God,” Damon growls, roughly tossing a pillow at our faces. He drops his head back down on Callie’s stomach and wraps his arms around her waist, hugging her and using her like a pillow. “Both of you shut the fuck up.”

“Wren,” I whisper, elbowing his side as I widen my eyes at Damon and Callie. “Look what she’s done to him. He’s gone soft.”

Another pillow gets launched at my face, the impact knocking my head back into Wren’s.

Okay then. Guess he’s only soft for her.

Callie laughs quietly, and I turn to look at her, grinning when she shakes her head at me in amusement. She’s wearing nothing but a tiny black thong and a matching bra, leaning back against the headboard with Damon’s body between her legs, running her nails through his dark hair while she smokes a joint with the other hand.

Jesus. She’s gone soft for him too.

“Good night, little sister?” I tease, rolling onto my side with my cheek propped on my fist.

“I’m still older than you, fuck boy.”

“Yeah, but you’re little.”

“And you’re what?” she asks, leaning over to pass me the joint. “Big?”

I smirk and pass it to Wren without taking my eyes off her. She smirks back, and Damon slaps her outer thigh.

“Motherfuc—”

“Don’t piss me off, punk,” he warns, running his palm over the spot to ease the sting.

Her breathing shallows. She narrows her eyes at him as he crawls up over her body and lifts the sheet over their heads. He whispers something I can’t hear, and I sigh, adjusting myself over my boxers while I think about the hot as fuck foursome we had last night.

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