That Summer

Eight

Chapter Eight ~ "The Treasure Hunt"

•Kade Westin•

"Home sweet home!" Kyle exclaimed, as he dropped his bags in front of him and swung his hands wide open as he opened to door to our villa in Crestville.

"Dude, we were on those islands for all of two days," Derek deadpanned.

We had just come home from our trip to the islands, and we were all tired as shit. Of course, except for Kyle, who was always as hyper as a monkey on steroids.

"Shush, Derek, you're ruining the moment." Kyle pouted, childishly.

Shaking at my head at my cousin's antics, I headed upstairs, closely followed by Ian.

As soon as I reached my shared room, I flung the door open, partially glad to have a solid bed to sleep in. I opened my jet-black suitcase and in one swift swing, dumped its contents in my closet. Ian, on the other hand, was methodically placing his clothes, one by one, placing them in individual stacks.

"You know, your mother isn't going to come here and check if her little boy has a clean room," I couldn't help but sneer at his neatness.

"Well, at least my mother taught me how to be neat, unlike yours," he shot back.

Within seconds, I had him up by the collar against the shut door of my closet.

Bringing my face close to his, I said, angrily,"You don't know one fucking thing about my mother, or even about me, so don't make any judgements about her, got it, punk?"

Instead of being terrified of me, like I'd expected, Ian calmly responded,"Then let me get to know you better."

"How?" I said, my eyes widening in surprise, dropping him to his feet.

"Twenty questions. You get to ask me a question and I'll give you an honest answer. Then you can ask me a question and I promise I will give you an honest answer. We can start small"

Narrowing my eyes at him, I agreed, "Fine."

"Okay, you start." Ian shrugged.

"Hometown?" I asked.

Excuse my creativity.

"LA born and LA brought up. Currently living in Boston, though. What's yours?" Ian replied.

"Seattle." I responded, without missing a beat. "Why does Quinn hate you so much?"

"What?" he asked, obviously flustered.

"Oh, come on, Ian. It's blatantly obvious. She hates you and she acts like was forced on this trip on gunpoint." I rolled my eyes.

"Well," he hesitated. "She's not exactly my biological sister."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, my mother married her dad about two years ago, and we don't get along - never have, truth be told." Ian admitted, sheepishly.

"So, you guys were forced on this trip?" I clarified.

"Sorry, but it's already been one question. Don't you know how to count?," Ian said smugly. "So, why do you hate Quinn so much?"

"Well, aren't you a blunt person?"

"Takes one to know one." He shot back.

I smiled. "I think we're gonna get along pretty well."

"Sure hope so. Considering we're stuck in the same room for the next two months. Now, stop avoiding the question. Why do you hate Quinn so much?"

"It's pretty personal, but let's just say, I have had some really bad experiences with people like her." I replied, vaguely.