Page 53 of Unwritten Rules (Rules 1)

“I warned you.” I crack a smile. “What about you—what’s your biggest fear?”

“That’s going to be a tough speech to follow.” He lowers his head, getting a clear shot of his feet hanging above the emptiness. “It’s probably to end up alone.”

“Do tell.” I rest my chin in the palm of my hand, giving him my undivided attention.

“There’s not much to say really. My family is the living proof that it’s not worth having material things if you don’t have what matters. Nobody’s standing up at your funeral to say that you had a big house and an expensive car.”

To say his words don’t resonate deep within my core would be a lie. He’s right. Having things will not make your life complete. Friends and family will. Under all the attitude, cocky comments, and jaw-dropping smiles, there’s a guy with decent values and fears like everybody else.

Something tells me it’s been a while since he had a chance to show it.

“And the other one?”

“I don’t have another one.”

“Come on. I don’t care if it’s silly.”

He sighs, a small smile covering his face.

“Fine, but you have to promise not to laugh.”

“I won’t, I promise.” I put my hands up.

He takes a breath. “I’m afraid of spiders.”

All of my good intentions vanish as quickly as they appeared when the words escape his lips, and I break into uncontrollable laughter. I cover my mouth with my hand.

“You can’t be serious?” I say, laughing so hard I can’t breathe.

“Shut up. I wouldn’t say afraid—it’s more of a hate thing. I swear I can kill it, but if somebody else can do it, I’m not going anywhere near that thing even if you pay me.”

“So you’re not afraid of illegal street fights that put your life in immediate danger, but you have a problem with a tiny innocent spider?”

“You’re no better with your fear of clowns, Kingston.” He says, a hint of a smile on his lips.

A silence that’s oddly reassuring follows. We don’t speak for a good minute, but it doesn’t feel uncomfortable. My mind isn’t racing, and I’m not desperately looking for something to say. It’s like we know that we don’t have to. That we don’t need to.

“What happened here?” I look down the building that’s obviously been the victim of time. “Doesn’t make sense. Why would you spend that much money on rebuilding a school that you’re going to close anyway?”

“That’s the thing. They never intended to close it.”

I frown.

“They thought they could carry on until multiple lawsuits from the parents who’d lost their kids were dropped on them. Something about the school not supervising their students enough and letting the kid light the cigarette that accidentally killed his classmates. Not to mention the lost lives didn’t exactly owe them the best enrollment record. They closed it, blocked every entrance, and it’s just been rotting there ever since.”

“How old were you when it closed?”

“Sixteen.” He shrugs. “Then I got into Riverside High.”

I nod, understanding that this is as many questions as he’ll accept to answer on this topic. I’m relieved when the conversation drifts to lighter subjects. We discuss so many things, such as favorite animal or favorite meal, slowly learning more about each other.

I can’t lie. Haze Adams is far from an open book. It’s hard to know him. Or at least, on a deeper level. It’s like he’s terrified of letting someone, anyone, close to him.

I can’t imagine how lonely that must be.

It almost makes you wonder if anyone even knows him at all.

When I realize that night has set upon the city, I glance down at my phone and gasp.