Unwritten Rules

by Eliah Greenwood

  Bianca.

  “Yeah. Yeah. I’ll be there in ten.”

  “But—” she says, but she’s cut off by Haze hanging up.

  He’s with Bianca. That’s probably where he’s been these past few days. I should’ve known.

  A new message comes through almost right away.

  Haze: Thanks, I owe you one.

  Winter: You do know she’s head over heels in love with you?

  Haze: I mean… It’s not my fault I’m irresistible

  Winter: You need to stop playing with people’s feelings.

  Haze: It’s not playing if I’m completely honest with her. She knows I don’t do romance.

  Winter: But she does. She loves you. How would you feel if you were constantly around a person you like without ever truly being with them?

  Haze: Idk. Never experienced it.

  Winter: You keep telling yourself that. No texting period begins now.

  Haze: :(

  I turn off my phone and rest my head on my pillow, the burning ache in my chest spreading. I shouldn’t feel this way.

  I shouldn’t care.

  But I do.

  T E N

  Back For You

  I’ve always wondered what it would be like to not have to go to school. Or work a full-time job. Or do anything that requires spending years of your life doing something repetitive for survival reasons. What would we do with our time? If there was no such thing as “money,” would we go back to desperately fighting for our food? How quickly could a well-balanced society turn into a war zone if we all truly were equals and numbers didn’t define our ability to see another day? If you could just go to the store and pick up what you wanted without paying for it, would chaos enfold our world?

  My guess is yes.

  Our entire lives basically consist of giving away our time so that we can have more of it. And in the end, that time we earned will also be given away in exchange for more time. It’s a never-ending cycle. Money is not the main thing a job gives you. A job gives you a tomorrow. A future. Survival.

  I have no idea why I’m thinking about this right now. My packed high school cafeteria isn’t exactly my first choice for a moment when I’m questioning everything and anything. But then again, my random and philosophic thoughts might have something to do with my desperate need to not let my mind be consumed by other things.

  And by other things, I mean Haze Adams.

  I haven’t checked my phone since yesterday. If he doesn’t want to stop and I don’t want to stop, all that’s left to do is remove the choice from the equation.

  I know if I read his messages, I’ll be tempted to answer, and I don’t trust myself not to.

  Still no sign of him at school. If his three days of ghosting tell me anything, it’s that he probably won’t show today either.

  Kass has been talking for an unbearably long ten minutes about how incredibly excited she is to attend Natasha’s party. Zoey nods, but I can tell that she doesn’t care. As for Morgan, to my great surprise, she’s actually invested in the conversation. Looks like the straight A student grew a sudden interest for the dark side.

  I wish I could reciprocate Kass’s excitement, but all I can think about is the risk I’m taking by going to another party after what happened. The boys said it should be fine. That it’s actually better to be in a large crowd than to stay home like a sitting duck. But still, Will, Blake, and Alex decided to come along to keep me safe just in case.

  Because it definitely has nothing to do with the free booze and the multiple girls running around in their bikinis.

  The clock reads that only fifteen short minutes separate us from the beginning of next period. I tell the girls I’ll see them later and exit the cafeteria. I know that getting to my locker is going to be much harder than I anticipated when I see the crowd of students gathered in the hall. I make my way through the sea of teenagers and freeze.

  What is he doing here?

  With his back against my locker and his hands deep in his pockets, he’s glancing around, obviously waiting for someone.

  Me.

  He’s wearing a black T-shirt, the tightness of the sleeves complementing the ripped and perfectly defined muscles of his arms. This is ridiculous. He looks like he stepped off the cover of a freaking magazine

  Stop drooling.

  The absence of anxiety in his features throws me off. He’s relaxed, casual, while I am the very definition of a nervous wreck.

  His gaze travels up to my face, his eyes so sharp they could cut through the toughest diamonds. I consider walking in the opposite direction for a second but decide against it. It’s too late. He’s already staring at me.

  And he’s already smiling.

  That goddamn smile.

  “Look who decided to rise from the dead.” I stop in front of him.

  He smirks. “Well, hello to you, too, Kingston.”

  “What do you want?” I try and push him off my locker but fail miserably. He barely moves, crossing his buff arms against his chest. I sigh as my eyes stick to his tattooed arm where the numbers 04/16 are on display. I still have no idea what it means. I doubt he’d tell me if I asked.

  “I came to ask you what you’re doing tonight.”

  “Seriously?” I scoff. “You’re not going to acknowledge the fact that you disappeared for three days at all?”

  Does he really think a couple of text messages magically make up for his disappearance?

  He tilts his head to the side and shrugs. “I had business to take care of. I told you.”

  Still no real answer.

  “I see.” I sigh. “Can you please move?”

  He doesn’t budge. “I know a place if you want.”

  “A place for what?”

  “For your phone. It’s obviously broken since you’re not texting back.”

  I can’t stop a grin from growing across my face. Dang it. I’m supposed to be mad at him.

  “We’re in a no-texting period, remember?”

  He pouts. “What? But I thought you were kidding.”

  “I wasn’t. Plus, you can’t just show up to my locker like this. Kendrick may be gone for now, but the boys still go to school,” I warn, well aware that he doesn’t care.

  “What are they going to do? Attack me in the hall?” He snorts and glances around. “Let them try.”

  Students pass us, making sure to stare for as long as humanly possible. I can literally hear them thinking, “What the hell does Haze Adams want with the new girl?”

  “What are you doing tonight?” he asks.

  He’s not going to let it go.

  “My cousin’s dragging me to a party.”

  “You mean the pool party? You’re actually going to that?”

  I can discern a hint of shock in his features. He’s probably surprised that I’d risk going to another party after the first one.

  I nod as an answer.

  “Do you really think it’s safe after… you know.” He doesn’t finish his sentence, but he doesn’t need to.

  He steps out of the way, letting me access my locker. I open it, while he leans against the one next to mine.

  “I can’t hide under a rock for the rest of my life, can I?” I try to deny the raw edge of anxiety burning in my chest. “Plus, I could use a night off. My neighbor’s dog’s new thing is to bark until 3:00 a.m.”

  We lock eyes.

  “You know if you need a place to stay, you can always sleep at my house.”

  “And sleep in the same house as your psycho brother? Sure. Sounds great. I haven’t been strangled in a while.”

  He laughs and steps closer until his disturbingly addictive cologne reaches my nostrils. He doesn’t speak, lowering his eyes to the tiled floor for a brief instant. He hovers over me, so tall I have to stretch my neck to get a good look at him.

  “You know damn well I’d never let him lay a finger on you again.”

  M
y heart jolts in my chest.

  I open my mouth to speak when—

  “There you are.”

  Haze and I both jump and step away from each other. We turn our heads simultaneously. Next to us is Bianca. I take in her delicate features. She looks a hundred times better than she did the last time I saw her. But I mean, she’d just finished having sex with Haze so…

  Ugh. Vomit.

  Her eyes remain fixated on him as she completely ignores my presence.

  “What happened to you last night? You left in such a hurry. You disappear for three days and then show up only to leave after ten minutes?”

  I can’t ignore the relief that pours over me. He wasn’t with her these past three days. But then where was he?

  Uncomfortable is the word to describe Haze’s facial expression.

  “I was busy.” He shrugs.

  Only then does Bianca deign to look at me. She looks me up and down, obviously tearing me to pieces in her mind. I’m not sure if she recognizes me from her party.

  “The party’s tonight. You’re coming, right?” She steps closer, biting on her lower lip in an attempt to seduce him. “I thought we could finish what we started last Sunday.”

  Realization punches me in the face.

  That’s why he had to leave on Sunday after he helped me remove the helmet. It was to go see her. I look down, a painful pit forming in my throat.

  Haze’s lips part as he stares at me, helpless. I pray that he won’t try to explain himself. After all, he doesn’t owe me anything. He is free to do what he wants.

  Or, in this case, who he wants.

  “Winter—”

  I cut him off, grabbing my books and shutting my locker. “I have to get to class. I’ll let you two talk.”

  The bell rings seconds later. I try and soothe the twinge of discomfort taking over me. Now that I think about it, a party might be just what I need.

  “SHE DID NOT SAY THAT?” KASSIDY slurs, her fingers white-knuckled around the glass bottle she’s holding.

  Morgan chortles. “Yes. She did. I swear.”

  I can’t even count how many times Kass has spilled beer on herself so far tonight. Bright side is she’s wearing a bathing suit.

  I look down to my outfit. I wasn’t sure how to dress, since pool parties aren’t exactly a common thing in Canada, so I opted for a simple tank top and shorts. I’m wearing my bathing suit under it but highly doubt that I’ll go for a swim tonight. I think someone threw up in the pool already. Or is it the hot tub? I’m not sure.

  Everywhere I look there are girls wearing very small pieces of fabric they call bathing suits, with red cups in their hands, and teenagers making out or grinding on each other.

  Morgan decided to tag along and is currently drinking alcohol for the first time. Her tolerance is pretty much nonexistent, which makes it all the more hilarious.

  Alex, Will, and Blake fell off the face of the earth almost as soon as we walked into Natasha’s modern house. They said they’d keep their phones close if I needed anything, but something tells me that if they have to choose between my call and the open bar’s call, the choice won’t be hard.

  “Kass, Luke’s staring at you.” Morgan giggles, taking another sip she’ll probably regret tomorrow.

  I turn around, scrutinizing my surroundings for Luke Jenson, a basketball player from school. I spot him, drinking out of red cup and staring at Kass like she’s the only girl in the room. Luke’s actually a decent guy. He hangs out with the varsity team, which automatically means that he’s friends with some douchebags, but overall, he’s a nice kid. He’s pretty cute, too.

  “He’s totally checking you out,” I confirm, but Kass doesn’t seem too excited about it.

  She exhales. “He asked me out two days ago.”

  “What’d you say?”

  “No.”

  Morgan is scandalized. “What? Why?”

  I stop listening, my eyes roaming the room. I haven’t seen him anywhere, and we’ve been here for almost three hours. Might have something to do with what happened in the hall.

  I finish my drink in one gulp. “I have to go to the bathroom.”

  Natasha’s house is slightly smaller than Bianca’s, making it even harder to circulate around the house freely. When I spot a ridiculously long line of people, I assume that’s where the bathroom is. But what I also know is, there is no way that this big-ass house only has one.

  Too bad the geniuses in line haven’t figured that out yet.

  I go up to the third floor and sigh in relief. The party’s still going strong downstairs, but as I predicted, the only people interested in coming here are the wasted couples looking for a hookup spot. Four doors surround me. I have no choice but to open them all until I find what I’m looking for. I mentally prepare myself to see drunk couples making out and eating each other’s faces off.

  At door number three, I begin to lose hope. I take a hesitant step toward the last door and reach for the handle with an unsteady hand.

  What I see behind it leaves me speechless.

  It doesn’t matter how prepared I thought I was, I certainly wasn’t ready for this. Their eyes land on me immediately. I make eye contact with Haze but quickly look away. I can’t imagine what they must be thinking right now. I probably look like an idiot, standing in the doorway with my mouth agape.

  Sitting on the edge of the bed, Bianca seems pissed. Her eyes are bloodshot. But this time, it has nothing to do with illegal substances.

  She’s holding back tears.

  Haze’s standing tall in front of her.

  “Winter,” he says, a bit surprised.

  I speak rapidly and turn away. “I’m so sorry. I was looking for the bathroom.”

  “It’s fine. We were done anyway,” Bianca says and gets up.

  She stops in front me, her eyes plunging into mine. I can tell she’s going to say something.

  And I can tell I’m not going to like it.

  “I see the look in your eyes. I’ve been there, too. But take my advice—run. You’re a phase. We all are.” She turns her head and glares at him.

  “Bianca…” Haze blows out a discouraged breath.

  “I’m not done,” she hisses. “You think you’re so special, don’t you? That you’ll somehow be that one girl who makes him fall in love? News flash: you’re not. And in the end, he’ll get sick of you. Because guess what? You’re not different. Or special. No one is.”

  She walks around me, radiating rage. Her words sting, no matter how hard I try to deny them access to my heart. I have no idea what he said to her, but it certainly wasn’t what she wanted to hear. Haze’s gaze tries to connect with mine, but I ignore him and walk out of the room, striding down the long hallway.

  “Winter, wait.”

  Here we go.

  “Let me explain.” He easily catches up to me, walking by my side.

  “You don’t have to explain yourself to me. You’re free to—”

  He cuts me off. “I didn’t sleep with her.”

  I stop in my tracks.

  I hate to admit it, but I want to hear what he has to say.

  If he carries on, we’ll be crossing the line—the “let’s pretend we’re both unaware that there’s something going on here” line.

  “She showed up at my house on Sunday. I sent her away. Nothing happened. She just couldn’t take a hint.”

  “Oh.”

  We don’t speak for a couple of seconds. That still doesn’t explain why he was with her when he asked me to call him.

  “What’d you say to the poor girl to get her this mad?”

  “I told her the truth. That I’m not interested in her. We can’t keep doing this when she has feelings for me.”

  I half-smile. “How considerate of you.”

  “I know.” He steps closer. “See? I’m a good guy sometimes.”

  “You just ended things with a girl that you literally only used for
sex—don’t push it.”

  “Oh come on, I don’t even get a couple points in your redemption board for the noble gesture?”

  “Nah. You actually have to earn the redemption points. You’re going to have to do a lot better than that, Adams.”

  He smiles, following me down the stairs. When we reach the first floor, the loud music and the scent of a mixture of sweat and vomit overwhelm us. The bass crushes my chest unpleasantly. I wince.

  Haze and I exchange a look. It says, Are you thinking what I’m thinking?

  He looks down at me. “Want to get out of here?”

  I’d like to say that I hesitated. That the multiple sirens going off in my head were enough to restrain me. But they didn’t. I wanted to go. For the first time in forever, I didn’t care if it was wrong. Because nothing had ever felt more right.

  “I DON’T BELIEVE IT FOR A second.” Haze shakes his head, the squeaking of the swing ringing in my ears.

  Blatantly staring down at my feet, I try to remember the last time I swung in a park. I must’ve been around six years old. The streets are empty, enfolded in silence. I’d never be outside at this hour if Haze wasn’t with me.

  “I swear.” I put my hands up. “I was alone for hours washing her car for Mother’s Day. I was so tiny I could barely reach the windows.”

  “How old were you again?”

  “Five.”

  “You were one determined kid, that’s for sure. Was she happy?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know. She never really said anything.”

  Gratefulness would require for her to have a heart instead of a block of ice in its place.

  “Sounds like your mom sucks.”

  His bluntness amuses me.

  “I wish I could hate her. I really do. But even after all of this, she’s still my mom, you know?”

  He stares into the emptiness. “Yeah, I know the feeling.”

  “What about you? Any good childhood stories?”

  The chances of him actually confessing something to me are slim, but I try anyway. He opens his mouth to speak and closes it.

  “Let me guess, you don’t want to talk about it?” I mentally chastise myself for hoping I could get something out of him. What was I thinking?