Unspoken Rules

by Eliah Greenwood

  Winter: I think you might’ve mentioned it.

  Kendrick: I’m the biggest idiot in the whole wide world. I’m a dumbass for leaving. I never meant for you to pass out. I’m sorry about Ryder, too. I took care of it. He won’t bother you again. Let’s make it fair, next time you see me, punch me in the face.

  Winter: Kendrick, I may be mad, but I’m not that mad.

  Kendrick: No, I insist. Please, punch me in the face real hard.

  Winter: Okay :)

  Kendrick: Huh? I was kidding.

  Winter: I wasn’t.

  “So, you ready for your first day back?” Will asks.

  “Nope,” I say and rest my phone on the table.

  “Don’t worry, I’m sure Haze will be there to protect you if anything goes wrong.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “Not that anyone will try to come at you after what happened last night.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Oh, come on, he got into a fight for you. He beat up a guy, Winter. Word travels fast. Everybody knows you as Haze’s girl now—no getting out of it. Sorry.”

  “Great. That’s just great,” I mutter.

  As if I already don’t have enough people hating me at school. I’m not sure Bianca and her minions were happy to hear about Haze getting into a fight for me.

  Only then do I realize that Haze hasn’t texted me yet today. I don’t know why I somehow expected a message from him. A good-morning maybe?

  I’m so pathetic. Maybe I should text him first.

  Winter, you told him you needed space just yesterday.

  What if I don’t want space?

  What if I want his gorgeous body on mine and his lips to kiss every inch of my skin?

  Make up your damn mind, woman.

  I decide to step on my pride and text him first. I wait and I wait, but he never replies. I try not to think too much into it.

  Kass rushes into the room, panic flowing out of her. “I’m so late.” Her hair and makeup aren’t done, and anyone who knows Kass knows that she’s not one to take off-days. These don’t exist in her life. She takes very good care of herself and always has.

  “Good morning, control freak.” Will smirks, and I’m tempted to let out a very loud “Aw” at the fact that they have nicknames for each other—as weird as they may be—but I decide that probably wouldn’t be appropriate since I’m not supposed to know about their relationship.

  Kass flushes, locks herself into the first-floor bathroom, and all Will and I can do is hope that we’ll make it to school on time.

  “Hey, Winter, who are you texting?” Kass asks when I check my phone for the fifth time since we left the house. I glance out the window at the passing palm trees and curse under my breath.

  “Who is she not texting, you mean.” Will glances at me in the mirror.

  I throw my head back. “How did you know?”

  “Please, you’re not fooling anyone with your sad puppy eyes,” Will says.

  I know Haze isn’t one to always have his phone in his hands, so worrying is probably pointless, but I have this gut feeling that something is wrong. I can’t quite put my finger on it.

  “I’m sure he’s just busy,” Kass tries to reassure me.

  “Yeah, or he’s dead. We all know that’s the only way Haze would ever leave Winter alone.”

  I force a laugh, bothered that I’m not the only one who thinks this is weird behavior for Haze.

  “We’re here.”

  The two dreadful words hit me a lot harder than I expected. The stress is real. I search for air as I get out of Will’s car with a heavy bag of books on my shoulders. I caught up with school as much as I could but still feel like I missed a lifetime of classes. So many questions eat at me. I have no friends in this school whatsoever. Not to mention that the prom is coming up.

  Am I supposed to go? The answer reveals itself to me as quickly as the question did. I just can’t see myself going. There’s no point in trying to live the Cinderella dream. There are only two weeks left before the school year comes to an end and my old life comes calling my name.

  Two weeks.

  Fourteen days.

  Then, I’ll be on a plane back to Canada.

  Nothing. Not even a quick text. I haven’t heard a peep from Haze once today, and I’m beginning to think something is seriously wrong. He wasn’t at school. This used to be typical behavior for him, but that was before… everything. I’m sure he knows better than to do that anymore.

  Will was right. To everyone, I’m Haze’s girlfriend. People stare. Girls hate me from afar. It’s nothing I didn’t see coming, but it still makes me uncomfortable. I just have to be thankful that I haven’t run into Bianca and her evil Barbies yet.

  On the bright side, I talked to the majority of my teachers and was relieved to hear them say that they were willing to figure something out with me for extra credits. I also met up with the principal, who said I’ll be able to take part in the finals like everyone else.

  I shut my locker and squeeze my way through the crowd of eager-to-go-home teenagers. At least Will suggested to drive me home if Haze doesn’t show for my appointment. I step outside and the way people look at me tells me that he’s here. I don’t even need to see his face. I simply follow their very obvious stare… to him.

  He’s just standing there, casually leaning back against his parked car with his hands in his pockets. His face lights up when he sees me, but mine only darkens.

  He’s bruised. And the wounds look fresh. They’re not from his fight with Ryder. He must’ve gotten them today. I stamp down to him.

  “Hey, you.” He grins.

  “What happened?” I immediately ask.

  He sighs. Did he really think I wouldn’t acknowledge his bleeding eyebrow?

  “Get in.” He opens the door for me and I climb inside the car. Shortly after, we drive off. I watch as the creepers outside the school become blurry shapes.

  “So?” I insist. “Mind telling me what happened to your face?”

  “I’m the West side’s leader, Winter. I got back into town after a while. What did you expect?”

  Great. He’s in a mood.

  “Gee, I don’t know. Not that my boyfriend would show up with blood dripping off his face, maybe.”

  I only realize what I’ve done once it’s too late.

  I called him my boyfriend, didn’t I?

  He smiles, his bad mood instantly slipping away.

  “What did you just call me?” He raises an eyebrow.

  “Nothing, I… That’s not the point.” I blush. “Don’t change the subject. What happened?”

  He can’t stop smiling. “No, really, what did you say? Because it sounded like you called me your boyfriend.”

  I choose not to entertain his ego and cross my arms over my chest. My cheeks are burning up. Stupid brain!

  “Fine.” He grins. “My guys made me pick things up where we left off. They always do when I leave for a while. Call it an insurance policy. They need to be reassured that I’m still with them.”

  He wiggles in his seat. Something’s bothering him.

  “What is it?”

  “It’s probably nothing.”

  “Haze…”

  “It’s just… They usually give me the benefit of the doubt, but this time, it’s like they don’t believe a single word I’m saying. They’re real fucking obsessive. They don’t trust me anymore. I have to prove myself to them. I mean, goddamn, they wouldn’t even let me use my phone when I was there.”

  That explains it.

  “Do you think a guy in the East side could’ve told them something about us? Like confirm it to them?” he asks.

  “What? No, they wouldn’t do that.”

  Haze nods halfheartedly. He’s not convinced.

  “You have no idea the bullshit I had to come up with just to be here right now. I thought they’d never let me get away.”

  “But I mean, can you blame them? They’re right, aren’t they? You are in bed with the enemy.
”

  He places his hand on my thigh and I shiver at his touch, but for the first time in a while, I embrace it. We both know I never came close to unloving him. Now that he’s ready to tell me everything, nothing’s holding us back.

  “I’m not in bed with the enemy, Kingston.” He squeezes my leg, his hand traveling upward slightly. I hold my breath, my heart hammering in my rib cage. Then, at a red light, he turns to look at me and smirks. “Not yet.”

  I can’t avoid the wave of nostalgia pouring over me when Haze and I walk into the familiar fifties diner where we had our first date—if you can even call it that. The memories are still vivid in my mind. This was shortly after Tanner went crazy on me and Kendrick went to beat him up, only to get beat up himself. The guys had set up a date with Haze through my phone so that I could convince him not to tell the whole world about Kendrick’s state. This is where I told Natasha, who was flirting with Haze, that he had STDs.

  Ah, good times.

  “You remembered?” I smile.

  “What do you mean? We’ve been here before?” He frowns.

  “Yeah, on our first date that wasn’t a date,” I say, feeling a bit hurt that he forgot.

  “Oh, that was you? I thought it was Bianca,” he jokes, and I roll my eyes. He pulls me to him and kisses my cheek, his warm laughter wrapping me up. “Of course I remembered.”

  The lady whose uniform makes her look like she came right out of Grease shows us the way to our table. The doctor’s appointment turned out to be a waste of time. I’m completely fine and there is nothing wrong with me apart from a sore bump on my head. Which means we made a deal with the devil for nothing.

  “So this is where you tell me everything? A bit crowded in here, don’t you think?” I glance around the room.

  “I’ll tell you at my place. I thought we’d enjoy one last meal before I reveal all of my darkest, deepest secrets and send you running for the hills.” He smiles, but I know, deep down, he means it. He fears my reaction.

  It can’t possibly be that bad, can it?

  “Fine, one meal. But then you tell me everything.”

  He hesitates for a second before finally giving in.

  “Yes. Everything.”

  “Stop!” I laugh as Haze throws yet another overcooked fry at me. We’ve been cracking jokes for a good twenty minutes. The food wasn’t the best I’ve ever had, to say the least, but Haze made it better. It’s taking him a ridiculously long time to finish his nonappealing plate, and I’m this close to losing my mind.

  “I swear, you’ve been eating that same fry for ten minutes.”

  “I haven’t.”

  “Please, you’re totally stalling.”

  “I’m not stalling. Oh, look, a puppy!” He stares out the window, and I have to force myself not to do the same. He’s changing the topic again. He knows exactly what stupid thing to come up with to distract me. My brain immediately went on “Did someone say puppy?” mode.

  “Haze, please, can we leave now?” I huff.

  “There’s this really nice place I’d like to show you.”

  “No, you said we’d eat, then go home so you can tell me everything. We ate, now let’s go. And once we get there, no more stalling. You sit down and tell me the truth.”

  He pouts. “Damn, really? I thought we could Netflix and chill.”

  “More like Netflix and don’t touch me.”

  “Ouch.” He grins and brings his hand to his heart like I just shot an arrow right through it. The waitress places the bill on the table, and I try to reach for it, but per usual, Haze is too fast.

  I stare at him with disapproval all over my face. One day I’ll get him. I’ll never stop trying.

  “Too slow, Kingston. Better luck next time.”

  Haze unlocks the door to his rich-kid apartment and throws his keys onto the counter. My poor ass, who still can’t believe how huge his place is, trails behind him. Haze kicks his shoes off, sending them flying across the hall, and crashes onto his leather couch. I take off my shoes, as well, and follow him. I can literally feel the burdening weight of silence on my shoulders, the haunting anticipation in every sharp breath, the fear in his stance. We know this is now or never.

  “What did your fighters make you do?” My fingers hover over his marked cheek and recent bruises. I don’t dare touch him.

  “We picked a fight with Ian’s guys.”

  I remember Ian, the leader of the North side—the street fighters that go by the Scars.

  “We’ve been enemies since the East side and I attacked them to find you. We thought they were responsible because Tanner sent us down the wrong path. Our alliance went to shit, and the entire time I was gone, they pulled random attacks on us. I should’ve been there for my guys. I’ve been a terrible leader.”

  “What do you mean you picked a fight with them?”

  He sighs. “I can’t tell you any more than this, baby. We have a code.”

  He says that like he’s not breaking his “code” by being here with me right now.

  “Fine, then tell me this. What’s the deal with your family? What’s with the kid’s room in your house?”

  His face changes. He probably prayed that I wouldn’t ask about that, but I owed it to myself. I can’t go on without knowing what made Haze so miserable. I need to figure out what made Haze… Haze.

  He takes a deep breath. “I was fourteen when it happened.”

  Why does this sound like the beginning of my heart breaking?

  “My parents never talked about it. They were so focused on keeping up appearances and looking like the perfect little family that they went on with their lives and never mentioned it again. ‘We’ve got to maintain our image, Haze. We’ve got to do it for the business, Haze.’ They moved, tore the house down, got rid of the pictures like it was that easy. They just… erased her.”

  Her. It was a girl.

  “God, Winter, I just… I hate them so much.” He clenches his fists, talking about it clearly stirring old, buried, and undealt with feelings. He looks like he could cry tears of rage.

  I trap his hand into mine and squeeze. I want him to know that I’m here. I’m here for whatever he’s about to say to me, for the lows and the highs, for the good and the bad. I’m here for whatever comes next. And I’ll still be here after he says it.

  “I’m sorry. I know this doesn’t mean anything to you.” He runs a trembling hand through his hair and sucks in a breath. “I… I had a sister.”

  He has such a hard time pronouncing these three words that I almost tell him to stop right there. I hate seeing him like this, but part of me feels like this might actually be good for him. He could use talking about it. He hasn’t in years.

  “Desiree. That was her name. Des for short.”

  I don’t speak, the hundred shattered pieces in my mind falling back together. She’s the one whose picture they removed from the frame. She’s the one who was cut out of the family photo. They cut her out. Their own kid. What kind of monsters are they?

  “She was five.”

  I catch myself holding my breath when his blue eyes singe mine. I’m impatient, yet reluctant, to learn why he said “had.”

  “Tanner got involved in the street fighting mess long before I did. Our parents were never around. I mean, they were but… not for the stuff that mattered. Tanner started acting out, and he was the first of both of us to try and break free of the cage they put us in. We had to be perfect boys who would eventually take over Daddy’s business and make some more money when the time came, but we didn’t care. Tanner more than me.”

  The bomb’s about to drop. I’m about to discover what turned Haze Adams’s heart into a block of ice. What stole his smile away between the picture of him at twelve and the one at fifteen.

  “I was babysitting her. Tanner was out selling God knows what drug to some sicko, and my parents were at a fancy-people cocktail party for the night.” He stops and looks at me. Like he’s afraid that I can’t handle what’s coming. Li
ke he wouldn’t blame me if I walked out the door right now and never returned. So, before the walls come down and the mask comes off, I hold on to him. I intertwine our fingers and hope to bring him the comfort he needs. He smiles through the resentment…

  And tells me the story I will never forget.

  25

  Revelation

  F L A S H B A C K

  Haze Adams woke up with a start, unusual noises he couldn’t identify pulling him out of brief but much-needed slumber. The clock on the wall read 2:00 a.m. The young boy frowned as he eyed the flat-screen TV in front of him. It was nowhere near loud enough to bother him, let alone wake him when he was this exhausted. His mind wandered to his sister sleeping upstairs.

  He’d been watching her almost every single night that week. His parents loved to confuse their youngest son for a babysitter whenever it was convenient for them, but, as opposed to the majority of fourteen-year-old boys, Haze didn’t mind. Desiree was easy to babysit. She always had been. All she wanted was for her brother to read stories with happy endings to her. Haze didn’t have the heart to tell her that she wasn’t born into the right family to get one.

  Since Desiree had officially entered her “monsters under my bed” phase, Haze had learned to sleep with one eye open to be ready whenever she called. Heaven knew he was the only one who’d come running if she did. Indeed, Haze had been like a parent to his sister for as long as he could remember. He couldn’t possibly count the amount of times she’d accidentally called him “Dad” or snuck into his room after she’d had nightmares. It was nothing new. It was an everyday thing at this point. Desiree’s father constantly promised his daughter that he’d play with her, only to back out and leave her big brother to comfort her. She pretended that she didn’t mind, but she held back tears every time her dad closed his office door in her face with the promise to play tomorrow.