Page 85 of Unwritten Rules (Rules 1)

“I wanted to say sorry,” he concedes.

“For what?”

“The lies Bianca’s been spreading about you.”

So he did hear.

“It’s fine. It’s not your fault. She’s… something, that one.”

“Something doesn’t even begin to cover it,” he begins. “You remember that time at the diner? Bianca sent Natasha to try and crash the date. Something about Natasha texting her that I was there with a girl. So, of course, as any sane person would do, Bianca took it upon herself to intervene.”

It all makes sense now.

I thought it was quite strange that Natasha would do that to her friend when she knows Bianca has feelings for Haze. Turns out she actually is a good friend in her own weird way. Bianca, on the other hand, not so much. Asking one of your girls to try and seduce a guy you’re interested in because you’re afra

id he might hook up with another girl? That’s not okay.

“I kind of get it though,” I breathe. “Having feelings for someone can make you do crazy things.”

His gaze shifts to me. He doesn’t speak for several seconds.

“Tell me about it.”

I try to convince myself that it’s just words. Letters put together to form sentences. That they don’t mean anything. But the butterflies in my stomach say otherwise.

They mean everything.

I change the topic. “I didn’t know you were such a romantic, Adams. Beach date and all.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re not what?”

“A romantic.”

I hold back a laugh. “That’s not what it looks like to me.”

“Yeah, well, maybe you know a side of me that no one else sees.”

His words resonate in my brain. He’s right.

He acts differently with me, and I can’t decide if I should be happy, because it means that I bring the good out of him… or if I should be sad, because he’s hiding the bad.

IT’S BEEN EXACTLY TWO HOURS SINCE we arrived to the beach. We’ve been talking about our beliefs, our dreams, the places we always wanted to visit, and the things we wish we’d never done.

No, I’m just kidding.

That would require Haze opening up.

We’ve been staring at the stars and trying to find constellations in the moonlit sky.

“This one looks like a purse.”

“What? How is that a purse?” He cracks up, squinting.

“You don’t see it? There, on the left.” I point to the bundle of stars.

An alarm goes off on Haze’s phone, interrupting my ridiculous attempt at giving him an astronomy class.