Unwritten Rules (Rules 1)

“You know, it’s funny that your name is Winter. You try to be cold.” He leans toward me like he’s going to tell me a secret. “But you’re still hot.”

I literally hate myself when a small smile creeps onto my lips. Like I’ve never heard that one before.

“Did I just get a smile?” he says, this stupid victorious grin on his face. “Don’t worry. I’m going to pretend I didn’t see that since you’re supposed to hate me and all.”

“You need to stop confusing your dreams with reality.”

“Trust me, I know this isn’t a dream. If it was, you’d be a lot nicer to me and a lot more naked.”

Don’t stab him with a pen. Don’t go to jail—orange isn’t your color.

I’m about to answer when Ms. Jenkins’s annoyed voice rings out in the classroom. “Adams, Kingston. Do you mind?”

Haze leans back into his chair and crosses his arms.

“Not at all,” he spits.

She stiffens up. “Do you ever stop talking?”

“Do you?” He arches an eyebrow.

The class breaks into laughter yet again. Most people would never dare talk to a teacher this way. Most people would have their asses sent to the principal’s office for a lot less. But Ms. Jenkins doesn’t react, ignoring him and carrying on with the topic of the class. I guess the rules don’t apply to him.

After all, Haze Adams is not most people.

I AM IN HEAVEN WHEN THE bell rings, marking the end of fourth period. The students start pouring out of the classroom like a herd of animals. I honestly have no idea how I manage to get out this quickly. I guess the desire to run away from Haze is strong enough for my super speed to wake up. Of course, it couldn’t wake up all these years ago during gym class.

I am ripped away from my thoughts when I run into someone on the way to my locker. I look up. Two dark blue eyes are staring right at me. I almost sigh in relief when I see him. Anyone who isn’t Haze Adams is now officially my best friend.

“Wow, what’s got you in such a rush?”

“Blake. Hi.” I smile.

“What are you running from?”

“The question is who am I running from.”

He immediately puts the pieces together.

“Did he talk to you?” Blake glances around, looking for Haze. “Do I need to go kick his ass?”

“No. I mean, yes, he did. But it was nothing. He asked for a pencil,” I lie, trying to avoid useless drama. That’s when I realize I forgot my pencil. I loved that pencil.

“Are you okay?” he asks, worried.

“I’m fine. What is he going to do? Get up and attack me in the middle of English class?” I laugh as we walk side by side.

“It’s Haze.” He laughs. “With him, we never know.” He looks down at me. “Hey, what’s your next class?”

I narrow my eyes, trying to remember.

“History.” I groan.

Blake stops in his track and steps in my way. I can tell that he’s got something in mind.

He smirks. “Want to get out of here?”

Every nerve in my body is screaming yes.