Page 14 of Forgotten Rules (Rules 4)

“We’re here.” I stop in front of her locker—that I arranged for us to share so that she wouldn’t have to be locker partner with a complete stranger—and she stacks her books inside.

This day is going to be so stressful for her. I’ll do everything I can to make it drama-free.

Then I see him.

Down the hall.

The idiot Zoey spent all of last year blabbing about.

Haze Adams.

The students around us display the usual reaction. They keep their heads down, count the tiles, and wish to disappear from freaking existence. Nothing new here. I hate to say it—I hate to think it—but… I’m right there with them.

Am I scared of him?

You’re damn right I am.

Apparently, if you’re a female in this school, there are two ways you can feel about Haze Adams: you can either want to jump his bones, or pee your pants whenever he walks into the room. Zoey’s category number one.

I’m number two.

Don’t get me wrong, I get the whole smoking hot, tattooed, damaged-bad-boy appeal, but… I know for a fact Haze is involved in the same street fighting nightmare as Kendrick. I heard Kendrick talking shit about him to Will once.

If I’m not wrong, he’s also my brother’s biggest competition in the ring. Haze is more than just the kid your parents tell you to stay away from. And while the people at school don’t know as much as I do, they know enough.

Rumor has it Haze once broke a guy’s nose for looking at him the wrong way. Is it true? Probably. I’m so focused on trying not to meet his gaze that I don’t even think of Winter. I can barely comprehend what’s happening when Haze stops dead in his tracks.

And stares.

At first, I think he’s staring at me.

Until I realize I couldn’t be more wrong.

He’s looking at Winter.

“Tell me she didn’t,” I hear a girl mutter in the distance.

Shit.

She looked at him, didn’t she?

Of course she did.

My bad. I didn’t tell her about the dumbass rules of our school. Don’t talk back to Haze Adams, don’t get in his way, and especially don’t look him in the eyes. The guy is like high school royalty, feared but popular, hated but loved, a bully and a heartbreaker. Whispers pour over us.

“What did you do?” I ask.

“You tell me.” Panic rises in her tone.

“You got a problem?” a deep voice says.

Well, fuck.

He’s standing mere steps away, his gaze dark and his face unreadable.

“Excuse her. She’s new. She doesn’t know,” I word vomit.

He doesn’t acknowledge me, analyzing Winter intently.