“I hate having a brother,” I mutter as Summer stares at her phone.
“They’ll pick us up two blocks down.” She points ahead and we walk faster.
Tommy, Marcus, and Troy are waiting for us in a white Honda that’s parked by a fire hydrant. Summer hops in the front with Tommy, who is driving, and I squish in the back between the other guys. Troy nudges me with his elbow and smiles. Marcus throws his arm around my shoulder.
I don’t like him like that, but I’m an affectionate person. I’m fine with touch, and this isn’t bothering me.
“You good?” he asks.
“I’m great,” I say with a smile.
Tommy pulls off. I have no idea where we’re going, but I don’t care. I want to celebrate graduating just like everyone else. Why shouldn’t I be able to do that?
“So, where—”
My words are cut off when the car screeches to a stop. I lurch forward, causing the seatbelt to engage and tighten around me.
“You alright?” Marcus asks.
“Fine. What hap—”
There is a car stopped in the middle of the intersection in front of us. A car I’d recognize from anywhere—black Camaro with pink rims. The car Tate takes to parties.
“Oh, hell no!” I shout, slamming my hands on the seats in front of me.
Summer turns to me with a frown, knowing exactly what I do.
They’ve come for me.
“Well, it was nice knowing you all,” I say with a sigh, climbing over Marcus to reach for the door.
“You don’t have to go with them,” Marcus says, holding his arm up to stop me from leaving.
“Oh, but I do.”
“You’re eighteen.”
“Means nothing in the Kensington household.”
He scoffs, clearly annoyed for me. Or maybe at me because he thought he would get laid. I have no idea. But he puts his arm down and I hop out of the car.
My brother storms toward me and shouts, “What the fuck, Devon? Tate said you were about to do coke with these guys?”
He did what?!
Tate is standing right beside my brother, and I scowl at him.
“Are you kidding me?” I growl. “You’re an asshole!” I shove him hard, though he barely moves. I look at Dane. “I was not going to do drugs, Dane. Not even close.”
“You said you weren’t coming to this party,” he argues. “So, you already lied about something.”
“You’re joking!”
His look tells me he’s completely serious.
My brother and I, though we’re twins, look nothing alike. At least, I don’t think so. Nothing outside of our honey brown hair and bright green eyes.
“Devon…”