I ask him to stop a couple of houses before mine, and he nods. My aunt would lose it if she saw me get off the back of some guy’s motorcycle.
“Thanks for taking me home.” I get off his bike, removing my helmet.
“And?” He does the same.
I give in, a bit amused. “For not leaving me to die in front of some abandoned factory.”
“That’s a weird way to end a first date, but I’ll take it.”
My eyes widen. “Did you just say the D word?”
A perverted smile spreads across his face.
“Oh for God’s sake, not that D word.”
“We had coffee, we talked. So yes, it was a date.”
“Only because I was trying to get you to do me a favor—did you forget that part?”
“Good reasons or not, it still happened, Kingston.” His fingers slip into his pocket. He hands me something. My phone. “There. You might need it next time you do something stupid like rush out onto the street alone at night.”
“Or next time I’m trying to run away from you,” I say. He smiles. “Gotta go. Time to get grounded for the rest of my life.”
“Hold on.”
I turn around.
“You may want to cover up before you go in there and pretend you were out studying,” he says, analyzing me from head to toe. He bites his lower lip slightly, then looks away.
I flush, ignoring the thick tension that suddenly decides to bless us with its presence. My gaze drops to my dress. He’s right. Whatever excuse I find to justify my absence, Maria’s not going to buy it if she sees me walk into the house wearing this.
He removes his jacket and hands it to me.
“Here. Take it.”
“You don’t have to,” I say.
“Don’t worry about it. Call it a guarantee.”
“Guarantee of what?”
He smirks.
“That I’ll see you again.”
I don’t reply, unable to find the words to say, and take the leather jacket from his hand. He starts the engine and looks at me one last time before disappearing down the street in a roar that echoes long after he’s gone.
I find myself smiling when I glance down at the jacket in my hand and put it on.
It smells like him.
For a short-lived moment, I almost forget about the million questions Maria’s going to ask me as soon as I walk through the front door. What am I going to say to her? The closer I get, the stronger the urge to run in the opposite direction becomes. Her car is in the driveway. All the lights are on even though it’s close to midnight. She’s probably waiting for Kendrick and me to come home.
Problem is, Kendrick’s not coming home anytime soon. And something tells me I’m going to have a hard time justifying it.
S E V E N
Liar, Liar
“Where the hell were you?”
Two seconds. That’s how long it took for the first question to come bursting out of her mouth. Sitting at the kitchen table in her nightgown, she was waiting to pounce on whoever would walk through the door. She’s the definition of angry. The dark circles under her eyes tell me that she’s exhausted. She came back from her shift at the hospital at eight. She’s probably been sitting there and calling us for hours. I would’ve sent her a text before but didn’t have my phone until now.
“Out,” I say, well aware that she’s not going to let it go.
“I’m not going to ask again. Where were you?”
“I was at a friend’s.”
“It’s past midnight. You can’t seriously expect me to believe that?”
“We were studying. We have a big test on Monday. I didn’t realize how late it was. I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”
Her face softens although she is still upset. “And about last night? What happened to coming back before midnight?”
“One of my friends wasn’t feeling well, so I took her home. I ended up falling asleep there. I would’ve called, but my phone was dead. By the time I woke up, it was way too late to walk alone, and I didn’t want to wake you.” I hate that I have to lie to her. But she can’t know the truth. She can’t be in danger, too.
The anger slowly dissipates from her stern face. She lets out a long and discouraged sigh. “You never do that again, you hear me? I’m supposed to be watching over you while your mother’s gone. When you move out, you’ll be free to do what you want, but for now, you live with me. If anything happens to you, it’s on me.”
“I know. I’m so sorry. I won’t do it again. I promise.”
She nods and opens her arms in my direction. I walk into her welcoming embrace, relieved that she bought it. At least, for now. Maria has always been like a second mother to me. Lying to her breaks my heart.
“Whose jacket is this?” She pulls away.
“Kendrick’s. I was in a hurry, so I grabbed whatever I could find.”
She nods, but I can tell she’s not a hundred percent convinced. She did his laundry for so long, something tells me she knows every piece of clothing he owns.
Karma is going to hit me really hard for this.
“I’m exhausted. I’m going to bed.” I smile and attempt to walk around her. I can’t believe I avoided the Kendrick questi—
“Do you happen to know where Kendrick is?”
Dang it.
I turn around, my mind racing. “Yeah. He asked me to tell you…”
Think, Winter, think.
“His friend’s parents got divorced. He’s staying with her to help her cope with it. She’s very sad.”
Maria’s face lights up.
“You mean…” She pauses. “My little boy has a girlfriend?”
Shit.
Why did I use the term “her”?
Of course she would think they’re more than friends if he’s staying with her because she’s depressed.
“Yeah.” I force a smile.
“I can’t believe he didn’t tell me. This is great. I think a girlfriend might be really good for him. Might set him straight. I’ll call him tomorrow morning.” The excitement in her voice is unmissable. “Good night, sweetheart.”
She smiles warmly and exits the kitchen. I drag my feet toward the stairs and curse under my breath.
Life hates me—the return.
FOR THE PAST HOUR, I HAVE been doing two things I am proud to say I excel at: lying in bed and procrastinating. I can’t bring myself to call Kendrick to tell him that I messed up again. Maria’s going to want to meet his girlfriend, but there’s just one slight problem—she doesn’t exist. I keep on reaching for my phone to call him but end up talking myself out of it every time.
As soon as I walked into my room, I saw I had ten messages from Will and Alex. I texted them that I was fine. They completely freaked out when Haze lost them. All they could do was trust that he wouldn’t hurt me. A notification pops up on my screen, interrupting my thoughts.
I have a new message.
Haze: Just realized I forgot to give you your pencil back
Speaking of Haze.
I find myself smiling, I forgot about the pencil I handed him in English class. I’m surprised he remembered.
Winter: You know what else you forgot?
Haze: What
Winter: To take a hint.
Haze: Ouch. And I thought tonight went well.
Winter: Sorry. Had to. It was too easy.
Haze: How’d it go. You still alive.
Winter: Barely. She bought it for now. Thanks for the jacket.
Haze: No problem, gorgeous.
He might be a decent person after all.
Haze: When can I give you your pencil back? How about tomorrow night ;) Your place
And… he’s back.
Winter: Sure. Come over at 9 ;)
Haze: Really?
Winter: No.
Haze: Why you gotta be so cruel
Winter: I already see you in my nightmares
, Adams. Don’t need you in my house, too.
Haze: You know I’ll never stop trying ;)
Winter: Why are you texting me?
Haze: Why are you replying
Winter: You’re not answering my question.
Haze: Neither are you.
Winter: -.-
Haze: :D
I click out of the text conversation and push all Haze-related thoughts out of my head. Focus, Winter. I have to call Kendrick. If I don’t, he’ll find out about my mistake tomorrow when his mother calls him, and something tells me he’ll be even more angry.
I dial his number with a shaky hand. It rings a couple of times before he picks up.
“You owe me big-time. I think I’ve lied more in one night than I have in my entire life.”
A dreadfully long silence follows.
“Who is this?”
The voice is deep, masculine. But it’s not Kendrick’s.
I immediately know something is wrong.
I hang up as fast as humanly possible, my fingers automatically selecting Blake’s number in my contact list. There’s no way the boys are asleep. It’s 1:10 a.m.; they’re not anywhere near going to bed. They’re either training or playing video games and being sore losers.
One ring. Two rings. Three rings. Pick up, damn it!
“Hello?” Blake says on the other end.
“Does Kendrick have his phone?” I blurt.
“Well, hello to you, too, Winter,” he chuckles.
“Blake, I’m serious. Answer the question.”
“Of course not. He lost it during the fight with Tanner. We’re confident a gang has it by now.”
I freeze.
“You can’t be serious. Tell me you’re kidding.”
“Why? What happened?” Blake says. “Winter, what did you do? You didn’t call him, did you?”
Crap.
“Some guy answered. But I didn’t tell him anything and hung up right away. How the hell was I supposed to know? No one told me.”
“What?” Blake brings the phone away from his mouth. “You didn’t tell her about Kendrick’s phone?” he says to Alex and Will, I assume.
I hear Will’s voice in the background. “Of course we did. Alex told her, right?”
“What? I thought you did it,” Alex answers.
“You dumbasses, she called him. Listen carefully, Winter. You’re going to tell me exactly what happened.”
“I told you. I called him and some stranger picked up. But it’s not a big deal, right? It was just a phone call—right?”
“Winter…” He pauses. “We have no idea who has it by now. It could be anyone that’s an ally to Tanner. Chances are they’re not Kendrick’s biggest fans. If they try to locate the call, you could be in danger.”
Panic takes over me. “But why would they do that? Try and locate some random girl calling Kendrick?”
“Because that’s what they do. Any chance they get to hurt us, they’ll take. Not to mention the attack at the party got people talking. There’s rumors of an ‘East Side girl’—a girl that Kendrick cares for. We have enemies. A lot of enemies. What Tanner did to you is the mere example of that. You have to get rid of your phone. They can’t find you if there’s nothing to locate.”
“What?” I exclaim, mortified. “Y-You can’t ask me to do that. Isn’t there another way?”
He raises his voice. “Do you want to go to sleep tonight wondering if someone’s on his way to your house? No? Then stop arguing and do it.”
Blake tells me to write down his number and to call him with the house phone as soon as it’s done. I do as I’m told. Then, like I’m no longer in control of my body, I run toward the bathroom that’s directly linked to my bedroom and slam the door open, my breathing shallow and irregular.
“Forgive me,” I say to my brand-new phone before throwing it in the toilet and watching it sink to the bottom.
The screen glitches and turns pitch-black. Poor baby. I run to the house phone, frantically dialing Blake’s number.
“Did you do it?” he asks as soon as he picks up.
“It’s done. Can they still find me?” I pant, out of breath. All this running is making me realize how out of shape I am.
“We can’t know for sure. But thank God you called us right after.”
Realization hits me when I instinctively reach for my phone in my pocket but can’t find it.
“What the heck am I going to do without a phone? My entire life was in there.”
“We’ll take care of that tomorrow, I promise. Why were you calling Kendrick by the way?”
“Promise you won’t get mad.” I pause, overwhelmed. “I might have told Maria that Kendrick is staying with his depressed girlfriend whose parents just got divorced. Okay, bye.” Then, before he can get a word in, I hang up, not emotionally able to deal with their criticism right now.
The words poured out of me so fast, I’m assuming he could barely keep up. I collapse onto my bed and stare at the ceiling, a feeling of shame weighing on my conscience.
Not so long ago, my biggest worries were not making friends and getting lost in my new school.
Now, I’m afraid my simple mistake will hurt not only me but my entire family.
When you think things couldn’t possibly get any worse, life looks at you with a smile and says, “Challenge accepted.”
WAKING UP TO THE SOUND OF the idiots my cousin calls friends rushing into the house and screaming my name isn’t exactly how I wanted my Sunday to start. Way to do it, guys. Fortunately, the lack of complaints from Maria and Kass tells me that they left for work already.
“Canada, where you at?” Will screams. I roll my eyes at the stupid nickname.
“Upstairs,” I shout.
Last night was probably the worst I’ve had in a while. After I canceled my phone via internet, I kept on tossing and turning, alerted by every single noise. Like not having a phone anymore isn’t bad enough, I also couldn’t call for help if someone did track me down and showed up at the house.
No one did. Thank God.
“Good morning, sunshine!” Will walks into my room without knocking. I consider yelling at him but decide against it. This is Will we’re talking about—it’d go through one ear and right out the other. Alex follows not so far behind him.
“You still in bed? What’s wrong with you, woman?” Will says and walks to my window, opening the curtains. I wince, covering my eyes with my hands.
“Well, excuse me. It’s not like I spent the entire night afraid someone was going to track me down and murder me or anything.” I rub my heavy eyelids. “What time is it?”
“Eleven,” Alex replies. “We got you a gift.”
He drops something on the bed. I blink a couple of times, my sight struggling to adapt to the light. As soon as I can see clearly, the first thing that comes to my mind is, are they serious?
“An alarm clock. Gee, thanks.”
Because buying me a new phone isn’t the least they could do after not telling me that Kendrick lost his.
“Would you rather have no way to wake up for school tomorrow?” Will mocks. “We canceled Kendrick’s phone. Kass’s old phone still works if you want it. Now come on, get dressed. We’ve got a long day ahead of us.” He turns away, heading for the door. When did Will have time to talk to Kass?
No, scratch that.
When did I-hate-the-East-Side Kass find time to talk to Will?
“What? Why? Where are we going?” I yawn, running a hand through my knotted morning hair. Thanks, Mother Nature, for the “she’ll look like a troll every morning” curse.
“Fake girlfriend hunting. Kendrick called his mom this morning, and guess what? She’s dying to meet her. Thanks for putting us in even more trouble than we thought possible, by the way.”
“Thanks for not telling me calling him was dangerous and forcing me to throw my new phone in the toilet.” I smile slyly. “We’re even, don’
t you think?”
Alex apologizes like the overly nice guy he is while Will completely ignores me and comments on the posters hung up on my wall.
“Okay, out. Both of you.” I get up and push them out of my bedroom, into the hall. I slam the door in their faces.
“You have fifteen minutes,” Will says from the other side.
Yesterday, I was on a “date” to seduce a guy into doing me a favor, and today I’m casting a fake girlfriend for my cousin who got beat up because of me.
Another regular day in my life.
“THANK YOU.” ALEX SMILES POLITELY AND shows the redhead the door. She smiles back, her eyes full of hope, and leaves like the ten other girls we’ve seen today. Alex’s living room has been operating as a casting room for hours now, and we’re not anywhere near close to finding a girl that’s right for the job.
“How many other girls do we have?” I ask, leaning back into my seat.
“Four,” Alex says. “The next one just texted me that she’s on her way.”
When the boys called up a bunch of girls they know and got repeatedly turned down, they had no choice but to opt for the last resort: the wonderful world of Craigslist. Unfortunately, they weren’t very specific, and the girls are either too old, too young, or terrible actresses.
“I need a break,” I tell them. They nod. I get up and step out onto Alex’s impressively big balcony that overlooks the pool, basketball hoop, garden, and waterfall. The billion family pictures scattered all around his house make it clear: Alex has it all.
Kind of makes you wonder what on earth pushed a kid who grew up in the definition of a “good family” to take part in illegal street fights. According to Kendrick, Alex’s entire life has been mapped out for him. He’s to be a lawyer like his father was before him and his grandfather was before that. I think back to what my step-father always says: The more you try to lock your kids into a cage, the harder they’ll try to get out. The more lines you draw, the more they’ll want to cross them.
Unwritten Rules Page 9
