Forgotten Rules (Rules 4)
“She’s just asking when I’ll get there.”
/> He doesn’t miss a beat, striding over to me and snatching the phone out of my hands.
“Hey!” I yelp.
His eyes comb through every word within seconds.
He frowns. “What is this shit?”
“It’s nothing. Just a list of things I have to get.”
His jaw twitches.
“You’re not her fucking pet. Tell your bitchy friend to run her errands herself.”
His reaction, as negative as it may be, makes me feel some type of way. A good some type of way.
“Why do you care?” I turn the tables on him.
Like I’ve just called him to order, he chucks my phone back into my palm, crosses the kitchen with slow, lazy strides, and slides back into his previous position—arms crossed, leg up— against the wall.
“I don’t.” He shrugs. “Just feel bad for you, that’s all.”
I swear this boy’s mood changes at the flip of a coin.
“Tell me one good thing about her. I dare you.”
“No.” I stand my ground.
“So, you’re admitting she’s a bad friend?”
“Fine. She makes me laugh.”
He snorts. “Yeah, because she’s a fucking joke.”
“Will!”
“What? I’m kind of an expert on the matter. Had a friend like that once. I would’ve done anything he asked, even when it was batshit crazy, because I thought he’d do the same for me.”
“And… did he?”
His voice plummets in volume, revealing a faint, easily missed edge of vulnerability. “Nah. He threw my ass under the bus the second things got rough.”
“That sucks. What happened?”
I can feel every inch of him pulling away from me when the words leave my mouth—Crazy considering he’s halfway across the room.
“I’m over it. Shit happens. We move on.”
That’s his way of telling me he’s done talking about it. My phone goes off for the millionth time, but I don’t bother checking. I know it’s Zoey.
“Look, all I’m saying is I don’t doubt for a second this Zoey chick would do the same if it ever came down to you or her. She’d choose herself. In a heartbeat. No second thought.”
“You don’t know her,” I oppose, my mind racing with painful scenarios. Zoey isn’t the easiest friend, I know that, but I have to believe she’d stand up for me if I ever needed her.
“I don’t know her personally, yeah, but I’ve known a million like her. And I’ve known a million like you. The pushover always loses in the end. You’ll see.”
Damn.