Unwritten Rules (Rules 1)

When I finally get there, I notice three guys sitting on the skate ramp, their gazes wandering around as if they’re looking for something. Then, my attention shifts to a lonely skateboard left on the ground a couple of steps away from them. Hidden behind a bush, it’s impossible to see from where they’re sitting. I assume it belongs to them. A part of me considers carrying on with my peaceful walk, but then I decide to make this tiny effort to help these strangers out.

I mean, I could definitely use some good karma.

I begin to walk toward them, the skateboard in my left hand and all the courage I can find in the other. Before I know it, I’m standing in front of the high skate ramp, looking up at them. Three guys—one with dark hair, one with dirty-blond hair, and the other with light brown hair. Recognition washes over me. I think I’ve seen them around at school. Only then do they notice me.

“Do you guys see what I see?” The blond guy hits his friends with his elbow.

“Wait, I think I see her, too. Is she real?” The dark-haired one and, in my opinion, the cutest of the three pretends to rub his eyes as if he expects me to disappear. His eyes are pretty red. The obvious scent of weed reaches my nostrils, and that’s when I realize I got it all wrong.

“Is there really a girl with a skateboard in front of me? I told you they exist,” the blond says to his friends more than to me. I look down at his hand to see a joint and understand immediately. This is why they were looking around. They weren’t looking out for something. They were looking out for someone.

“Stereotypical much?” I laugh.

At first, I’m a bit surprised to hear the words come out of my mouth, but then I remember that I’m the girl who talks back to the ultimate bad boy of her school without blinking.

Nothing new here.

They seem taken aback for a brief instant.

“Sorry. Harsh. I found it over there and thought it belonged to you. My mistake.” I offer them a timid smile, drop the skateboard on the ground, and turn away, ready to get back to my peaceful walk around the city. Or what’s left of it anyway.

“You’re not from around here, are you?”

I stop in my tracks and turn around, looking up at the dark-haired stranger whose blue eyes probably seduce a lot of girls.

“That obvious, huh?”

He offers me a charming smile in return. “The cute accent kind of gave you away, I admit.”

“I guess I should work on that.” I look away when I feel my cheeks heat up. Oh my God, seriously, Winter? A guy hits on you once and you’re living in tomato land. Get a grip.

“I’m Blake. These two buffoons are Will and Alex. What’s your name?” He eyes me up and down. I’m assuming my pale skin is one of the main reasons why everybody seems to know I’m not from Florida. Might as well write “Canadian girl” on a Post-it and stick it to my forehead.

“Winter.”

“Where are you from, Winter?” Blake’s eyes refuse to leave me.

“Canada.” I’m not surprised when the guys suppress a laugh. If they tell me a joke about my name I’ve never heard before, I’ll throw a penny at it.

“You mean to tell me that you’re from Canada, a country that’s buried in snow practically all year long, and your name is Winter. Your parents hated you or something?” Will, the blond one, says.

Blake gives him a reprimanding look—one that obviously means don’t be rude, dumbass—and I’m tempted to tell him how many times I’ve heard this. Probably as many times as people have wanted to punch him in the face for being obnoxious.

“Something like that.” I find myself laughing at the irony. If they knew my mother, they’d be laughing, too.

“What brings you to Florida?” Blake asks.

“I’m visiting family. What about you guys? You’re from around here?” I try to imagine what it’s

like to live in Florida all year long, without snow, ice, and storms. It must be so different.

I come to learn that they were all born and raised here except for Blake, who comes from a small unknown town called Colton Gate. He remains very secretive about the details of how and why he moved to Florida, but I don’t think much of it, assuming that he’s not comfortable with telling his life story to someone he just met.

The basic small talk quickly turns into a surprisingly long and interesting conversation. We discuss the most random things I can possibly imagine, and before I know it, I’m sitting next to these complete strangers on the skate ramp, laughing so hard my stomach hurts. Their immaturity and snarky comments remind me of Kendrick’s.

I throw my head back, laughing at Will’s impersonations of celebrities, and I’m forced to admit it’s been a while since I’ve had so much fun. Then, for a brief moment, for just a second, I dare to believe that maybe… just maybe, a great new life is possible for me.

AS THE HOURS PASS, THE SUN begins to set, offering the most beautiful view I have ever seen.