Forgotten Rules (Rules 4)

Reading the text on my screen for the thousandth time, I try and trick my brain into believing that this is a misunderstanding. That there’s a rational explanation for this. One that doesn’t include Will deciding to pick up where he left off.

There’s no way he’s looking to fuck Callie again, right? I fight and fight, but the truth fights harder.

Rippppppp.

That’s the sound of my heart cracking open.

Way to ruin my day off.

Kass: Thanks for telling me.

To think I believed we were going somewhere yesterday. I thought when he said he drove to my house because he was worried about me that maybe…

God, I’m so stupid.

If he’d been able to pay Callie a visit yesterday, I’m sure he would’ve. Acting on impulse, I pull up a text conversation I haven’t opened in a long time.

Luke, the recipient reads.

Kass: Hey. We never got to go on that date.

Ten minutes later, my phone pings with a reply.

Luke: How’s tonight 8pm sound?

By the time I’m all prepped up and ready to go to Morgan’s for the day, it’s past eleven. Jogging down the stairs, I check my phone, still fuming at the thought of Zoey’s message. Fuck you, William Martins. I’m done wasting my time.

Turning the corner, I freeze at my mom’s voice and stretch my neck to see her roaming the kitchen, phone pressed to her ear. She doesn’t seem in the best mood, and by the looks of it, whoever’s on the other end of that call is to blame.

She keeps her voice down. “No, that’s enough, Nick. You need to stop harassing Kendrick.”

Nick.

She’s talking to my dad?

“Do you have any idea how hard it’s been to hide your calls? If your son wants to talk to you, he will.”

Wait, has my father been trying to contact us?

“No, I won’t talk to him for you. You’ve already said your piece. If he wants to meet you at Dale’s, he will.”

Dale’s.

My mind runs a thousand miles. Where have I heard that name before?

“And if you knew your son at all, you’d know he always gets hungry early. Seven’s way too late.”

I discern my dad’s muffled, barely audible voice but can’t make out what he’s saying.

“Goodbye, Nick,” she snaps, hanging up on him.

I immediately google Dale’s. The results trigger my memory, showcasing a restaurant downtown. A very fancy one at that. The kind of fancy where a glass of water costs fifty bucks. Shoving my phone into my back pocket, I pad into the kitchen, hugging my mom good morning and telling her I’m going to Morgan’s. And I am. For the majority of the day, at least. But I know where I’ll be at seven tonight…

Pulling into an empty spot at the restaurant and killing the engine, I peek at the time on my locked phone screen—6:59—and click on Will’s unanswered messages. He’s been texting me throughout the day, asking me what I’m doing.

Well, I sure know what he’s doing.

Or who.