Enchanted Chaos (Enchanted Chaos 1)

“Do they all live with you?”

He nods. “My youngest are seventeen, and my oldest is twenty-one and in college, but he hasn’t wanted to move out. Hunter and Holden are in college, too, though Max, the second oldest, isn’t. But they all still haven’t moved out yet. I blame my wife. She spoils them all too much.” He laughs it off, but again, a hint of nervousness edges into his expression.

Considering I have plans with Nina and Gage to move out the moment we graduate and then travel, the idea that even one of his kids wants to stick around after they turn eighteen is mind-boggling. Don’t get me wrong; my parents aren’t terrible, but I’ve been taking care of myself since I was old enough to work the stove, so moving out of the house won’t be that much different. Nina is the same way. Gage, too. We’ve practically run wild since we were kids, which is fine—I enjoyed the freedom, for the most part anyway. It’s part of the reason I am so agitated that I can’t live on my own now.

I can take care of myself. My parents know this. Yet, they decided that, until I’m eighteen, I can’t live on my own? That living with some strange family will be better?

I don’t want to live with strangers. What I want is for this unsettling feeling of unknowingness that’s been plaguing me to go away.

I stare at the road, as if expecting my dad’s truck to suddenly appear. It doesn’t. But a lamppost flickers on and off.

Blinking a few times, I focus back on Gabe. “How old are your other kids?”

He actually has to think about it. Really, I guess I can’t blame him. He has six kids for crying out loud! He probably has a hard time keeping track of them all.

“Porter is twenty-one, Max is twenty, Holden and Hunter are nineteen …” When I pull a funny face, he adds, “They are twins. Identical, too. Can be sort of a problem telling them apart sometimes, but the trick is to never refer to them by their names. That way, they don’t know when you’ve confused them.” His eyes glint with humor. “I’m just kidding. Holden actually has a small scar above his right brow. And I brought Easton and Foster with me. They’re the youngest and twins, too. Not identical, though. And they’re seniors, like you, so they should be able to show you around school and stuff.”

“You have two sets of twins?”

He nods then steps forward to pat my shoulder. “I know it’s a lot to take in, but trust me; after a while, you’ll get used to it.”

I bob my head up and down, kind of in shock. Six kids. Two sets of twins. That’s eight people in one house. Nine counting me! Jesus, how big is his house?

“All right.”

He points a finger at me. “You’re kind of a quiet one, aren’t you?”

I shrug. “Not always, but sometimes.” Around people I don’t know.

“Well, I don’t want to frighten you”—he backs for the porch steps again—“but you might want to consider being a little more outspoken, or the chaos of the Everettson family is going to swallow you up.” He smiles then turns around, leaving me with a huge lump of fear wedged in my throat.

Might want to be more outspoken? Yeah, every time I’ve tried that, I ended up humiliated.

Zap. The lamppost on the street sparks.

Dammit. I’m already an emotional wreck. Makes me worry how the day’s going to end.

As he jogs back to his truck and opens the passenger side door, I step inside and attempt to collect myself. I’m still wearing the plaid shirt and T-shirt I had on yesterday but traded out the jeans for a pair of cut-offs sometime during last night’s drunkenness. I smell like beer, whiskey, and stale pizza, just like this living room. Hopefully, Gabe doesn’t have issues with the mess or the evidence that I was drinking last night. My parents never cared, just as long as I never drove drunk or got arrested.

Gage sits up on the sofa and rubs his bloodshot eyes. “Who was that?”

I pick up the half-empty bottle of whiskey from off the floor. “Gabe. My … temporary guardian, I guess.”

Nina buries her face in a pillow. “Did you tell him to go away?”

“I wish I could.” I rotate the bottle in my hand as an unspoken silence blankets over us. “God, I can’t believe this is really happening.”

“Me neither.” Nina sniffles then staggers to her feet and wraps her arms around me. “You have to come back every weekend, and we’ll drive out there when you can’t come here. And promise that none of our plans will change. We’re still moving in together after we graduate, okay?”

I nod, giving her an awkward hug back. “Nothing’s going to change. I promise.” But I feel like such a liar. Because things are changing.

Everything is changing.

Too quickly.

And I can barely keep up.

As tears threaten to pour out, I start to pull back when Nina abruptly stiffens.