Rules Of The Game: Book 1

15; The Second Stage of Grief... Anger

𝙾𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟷𝟾𝚝𝚑, 𝙼𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚢
Parkers POV

It's much later in the evening on Monday when I feel the need to get out of the house. I've been trapped inside the school's four walls all day long, and sitting in my bedroom staring at these walls isn't doing me any good now.

And that's how I end up here, sitting alone in the back booth of a 24-hour diner downtown.

Not that this is the most glamorous place to go when I feel like clawing my brain out of my head, but it's better than driving myself crazy at home. I always feel bad going to my parents when I get in these moods because I don't like inconveniencing them, even though they always claim that I'm not a bother.

Sometimes it's hard to believe that because I'm annoying the fuck out of myself right now.

"Fries and shake?"

Blinking, I look up at the waitress who's holding my food. The same food I forgot that I ordered.

"Yeah, thanks," I mumble and straighten up more as she sets the basket down with a kind smile. I purposefully avoid her longing eyes because I'm not here to check out the college girls. I have a bigger issue on my mind.

Miles. Always Miles. Or, at least, he has always been on my mind recently.

Tonight, instead of desiring his touch, I desire to punch that idiot. Okay, maybe that's taking it too far, but I'm still pissed off.

I cannot believe that he doesn't remember what happened at the party.

That moment made me open my eyes to a whole world of possibility and what we could be.

Although to him, it was just another night. Just another kiss, just another boy.

Fuck him.

I curse in my head, even though I have no one to be angry at but myself. I knew he was drunk, but I teased him anyway. I made the first move by touching his face and his lips. There's nothing that I wouldn't do to take that moment back.

Before I can get lost in my anger, my phone buzzes in my pocket. Scowling, I take it out and glare at the screen.

I swear to god if Griffin is trying to contact me again...

(1) New Instagram notification: heyitshannah
Hey! Sorry that I'm bothering you so late. I just wanted to get in touch...

Yeah, I would bet that she's definitely not sorry.

The rest of her sentence doesn't appear on my home screens preview, and I exhale out of my nose as I jab the notification. It brings me straight to the Instagram DM where Hannah kindly offers me a date this Thursday night.

Impossibly, my night just got worse.

Or... I think to myself and lean back against the leather seat, this may be a sign.

Lousy timing, sure, but still a sign. There's no way I could have Miles, even if I did want him. Hannah is soft-spoken, easy to get along with, and an open book. A good girl. It's a no-brainer.