Unspoken Rules (Rules 2)

“Prude.” He smiles.

I can’t erase the grin creeping in the corner of my mouth. I have no idea when or how “jerk” and “prude” became our thing, but somehow, it did.

Haze takes a right and pulls up into the mall parking lot. It looks just like any other mall, but the sign at the parking entrance indicates that mostly expensive clothing stores are located inside the building. I’ve always had a slight problem with expensive clothes. Unfortunately, to me, expensive doesn’t always mean “pretty.” And, from what I can tell looking at the clothes displayed in one of the shops’ windows, the millionaires in this town have strange taste.

This won’t be easy.

Haze stops the car and makes a face, indicating that he’s having the same train of thoughts as I am.

We exchange looks and smile.

Let’s go shopping.

“You are not going to believe it,” I say, fidgeting with the price tag of the most hideous polka dot slash floral dress I’ve ever seen.

“How much?” he asks.

“A hundred and fifty.”

Haze smothers a laugh, on the other side of the changing room. We’ve been going around the mall and trying on the most ridiculous clothes we could find for two hours now. Haze found what he needed in like minus two seconds. Finding plain T-shirts isn’t a very demanding task, apparently.

As soon as we walked inside the mall, a million missed calls and messages came rushing in on my cracked phone screen. My dinosaur could barely get signal at the lake house, but it’s way stronger at the mall.

They’re all from Kendrick and Maria. They must be worried out of their mi

nds.

I don’t even want to think about how Maria reacted when Kendrick told her that I left Tom’s “safe” house.

“Who on earth would pay almost two hundred dollars for this?” I take off my clothes the best I can to put on the dress.

“Yeah, well, it’s either this mall’s clothes or driving two hours out of town. I told you, we’re a bit isolated.”

“What is this place anyway? Like a top-secret town for the Kardashians?” I struggle with the tight fabric.

Haze cackles, then speaks to someone. The clothing store employee, I assume.

“Yes, Mr. Adams, right away,” I hear a female voice say.

I furrow my eyebrows. Mr. Adams? First, how the heck does the employee know Haze’s last name? And why so formal to someone who’s younger than her?

He brings his attention back to me. “It’s just a wealthy area.”

It’s a gated community with huge houses and a mall filled with luxurious brands. I’d say this is more than just a wealthy area, but I guess for Haze this is an everyday thing.

“This isn’t even close to a bit isolated. We’re in the middle of nowhere. If you left me here, I’d die. Especially since my ancient phone won’t let me use the GPS.” I laugh, catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Good thing this dress doesn’t have a zipper.

“How’s that going, by the way? Living without your phone? It’s been a while since you…” He pauses, erupting in laughter. “Since you threw it in the toilet.”

Here we go.

It’s official. He is never going to let me forget this one.

“Shut up.”

It takes him a few seconds to stop laughing. “Are you done yet?” He knocks on the door.

Someone’s getting impatient.