Unbroken Rules (Rules 3)

Caleb and I used to be neighbors. He was that kid your family arranged for you to play with before you could decide if you even liked each other. Our parents became friends before we did, and so, every Saturday, we’d have lunch at his house. My dad and Caleb’s would go on and on about the stock market for hours while our mothers gossiped. It became a tradition. Caleb moved out of his parents’ house last year, since he’s a bit older than me, but we remained close all throughout the beginning of my senior year. Until I left to finish it in Florida, that is.

Sure, Caleb’s good-looking. He’s half-Filipino, half-Italian, and I’ve known him to knock many girls off their feet with his dark hair, tan, and soccer player body, but I could never see him in that way. I guess the memory of five-year-old Caleb puking his birthday cake all over my dress ruined it for me. If the friend zone was a country, Caleb would be the president.

“Seriously? I leave for two minutes and that’s when you show up?” someone says behind me.

Allie.

Caleb puts me down, and I swivel around, spotting my best friend in the distance.

“Oh my God!” I run into her arms. She squeals, half laughing, half crying, and suddenly, we’re twelve again. I extend my arms out to get a good look at her. She looks stunning—what’s new?—with her long auburn hair and green, golden-flecked eyes. Her sun-kissed skin is covered with the adorable freckles she used to despise; they come back every year along with summer. Allie has always been the one with a fashion sense, while I could easily wear a hoodie and sweatpants to a red-carpet event and wonder why people are staring.

“Al, you’re here, too?”

“What? Did you think I’d let this guy have you all to himself?” She hugs me again.

I met Allison Gardner, Allie for short, during my freshman year of high school. She was the new girl. We both didn’t want to play dodgeball and bonded over our misery in gym class. As Allie and I grew closer, Caleb and Allie did, too. We became this inseparable trio, walking home from school together every single day and hanging out at Caleb’s. He didn’t hang with us at school—he was way too busy doing stup

id shit to impress the cool kids—but when the bell rang, he became one of us.

“I’ve missed my girl.” Allie squeezes me one last time, and we break away from each other.

That’s when her eyes land on Haze.

He looks exhausted, wearing a plain white T-shirt and black sweatpants. He didn’t have anything else after the prom disaster. This outfit is all he’d left lying around at Maria’s. Still, his messy brown hair looks as though every tousled strand was meant to look that way. Like his careless look isn’t careless at all, and dang, he looks good. Not to mention his tan sure makes him stand out in the crowd of pale Canadians who haven’t seen the sun in months.

“Holy sweet mother of goodness.”

Here we go.

“Who’s the hottie?” Allie whispers, covering her mouth, and although, I appreciate the effort, we all hear her loud and clear.

“I’m Haze. Nice to meet you,” he chuckles and steps forward, holding out his hand to her. She shakes it clumsily.

“Allison. Nice to watch yo… I mean, meet you.”

I snort. Nice save.

“So, Winter, I didn’t know Florida handed out Calvin Klein models as goodbye gifts.” She fans herself with her right hand, and I laugh.

That’s Allison Gardner for you. She’s always been a bit boy-obsessed. You know that phase most girls go through as kids when we think boys are just yucky monsters who eat their boogers? Well, Allie never had that phase. With a mother who’s been divorced five times, she’s always had trouble with deep feelings, practically seeing someone new every week. She says she has the rest of her life for serious. Not texting back and ghosting guys she’s gone out with is her thing. She says when she finds the one, she’ll know it. But that day hasn’t come yet.

“Allison, meet Haze, my boyfriend. Haze, meet Allison.”

“Excuse me? A boyfriend? Since when? Winter, I’m so happy for you!”

I notice Caleb isn’t paying attention anymore, his eyes glued to his phone.

“Haze, do you have a brother, by any chance?” Allie asks him, and Haze and I exchange sideways glances.

Trust me, Al, you do not want to know his brother.

“Sorry, it’s just me.” Haze shrugs, and my heart aches for him. He’s right. It is just him. The night of the reception at his parents’ house cut all remaining ties between Haze and his family.

“How’d you know I was coming back today?” My gaze drifts to Caleb.

He proceeds to explain that Allie was the one to send him a text saying to get his ass to the airport early this morning. I texted her a week ago, but she said she couldn’t make it. Never once did the thought that she’d come to surprise me cross my mind.

“Hey, my mom told me to tell you you should come over for dinner sometime this week.” Caleb says.