Page 23 of Kings of Westbrook High

I roll my eyes and steal her Starbucks coffee to take a sip, trying to come up with a decent lie but coming up empty. “Nothing.”

“You're so full of shit.” She snatches it back, sliding me a fresh one that seems to be for me.

“Thanks..” I draw out, feeling a little awkward when I realize she thought of me.

No one ever thinks of me.

“Whatever.” She huffs, bringing me back. “What'd Theo say to you?”

“Asked me what I'd do for a fifty.”

“So you hit him in the balls?” She barks out a laugh, making me laugh.

“Took the cash, too.”

She laughs harder and I grin.

“Ladies.” The teacher snaps, looking between us. “Do you mind?”

“Sorry, teach.” Rachel winks, slapping her notebook on the table. “Please, continue.”

Mrs I don't know her name scowls but starts her algebra lesson all the same, and I do my best to pay attention despite Rachel's nosy little eyes on me.

Not five minutes later, she opens her big mouth. “Do you even know who that guy was?”

“What guy?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

“The guy you were dry fucking on the couch the other night.”

“I wasn't dry fucking him.” I roll my eyes, jotting my notes from the board. “And yeah. Derek Kingston. So what?”

“They hate him, that's what.” She whispers, leaning in closer. “I party there sometimes because Tommy and the guys are juniors with him in college but the Kingston brothers never bother me for it.”

“Good for you.”

“Do you even care?”

“Not really.”

“Well, you should.” She goes on, just like I knew she would because she can't fucking help herself. “Because when I say hate, I mean hate, and it's not some cousin love hate type shit, it's the real fuckin' thing. Boys come to blows every time they're in the same room together. Been that way for years.”

“You don't say.” I feign boredom, hanging on to her every word.

“I wasn't here back then so all I know is the rumor. Apparently the boys' fathers don't get along. Bad blood between half brothers or some shit. Grandpa Kingston had an affair with the maid and treated his bastard son like shit, barely left him five percent of his fortune when he died.”

“You mean the big ass mansion he lives in?” I deadpan, raising a brow. “That’s only five percent?”

She shakes her head, sipping her coffee. “He gave him a check and told him to make it last, left the rest to his first born. The hotels, the cars, the private jets, everything.”

“So the mansion’s Elijah’s?”

“Yep. Apparently he gave it to his little brother as a peace offering or some shit, moved his wife into the penthouse of Kingston Palace and raised his boys up there.”

“But there was no peace.” I state the obvious, dropping my pen on my notebook because there’s no point pretending anymore. “Derek’s Dad still hated him anyway?”

She nods.

“So what about the boys?”

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