Page 155 of Unspoken Rules (Rules 2)
I haven’t had the guts to ask him if the two of us are still going to prom together tomorrow.
Or if there’s even still an us at all…
I’m about to pick up my phone to text him when it vibrates.
Haze: I’m an idiot.
I let out a huge breath of relief.
Winter: Why?
Haze: The girl I love is leaving soon and we’re fighting.
I sit up on my bed and type a reply inhumanly fast.
Winter: That sucks. Who’s the lucky girl?
Haze: Her name’s Winter. She’s beautiful, funny but beyooond stubborn. Maybe you’ve heard of her.
I laugh.
Winter: Just saw her actually. She told me she loves you too.
Haze: I wish I was with her now.
Winter: Yeah? What are you going to do about it?
Haze: Not sure. I’m thinking sneak in through her bedroom window and give her the best makeup sex of her life.
I blush. Well, that escalated quickly.
Winter: She says to text her when you’re almost there.
He stops replying and leaves me hanging. A minute later, my phone vibrates again.
Haze: No need.
Haze: I’m at her window.
Of course.
I run to the glass, and sure enough, he’s right there, looking at me with puppy eyes. I push my window open.
“What are you doing?” I find myself laughing, trying not to wake up everyone with my dying seal laughter. Seriously, there is no such thing as a cute laugh. There’s the laugh at 3:00 a.m. when you’re alone stuffing your face to a Netflix movie, and there’s the laugh when you’re in public.
“I’ve always been told to follow my dreams.” He throws me one of his oh so famous pickup lines, and I pretend to gag.
He chuckles at my reaction.
“Maria isn’t home yet. Get in through the front door.”
“Why?”
“So that you don’t risk breaking your back, duh.”
“But, Kingston… where’s the fun in that?” He smirks and does what he’s done almost every night recently, easily reaching my window and sneaking inside a bedroom that clearly wasn’t expecting him. I’ve spent the last two hours packing. He doesn’t acknowledge the mess once, standing tall next to my bed as his blue eyes travel from my face to my Disney pajamas. He smiles at my outfit but doesn’t comment.
“I’m sorry,” he breathes out after a few seconds of silence.
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