Too Many Rules Read online

  Too Many Rules

  By G.L. Snodgrass

  Certain Rules Copyright 2014 G.L. Snodgrass

  Unwritten Rules Copyright 2016 G.L. Snodgrass

  Unbreakable Rules Copyright 2016 G.L. Snodgrass

  New Rules Copyright 2018 G.L. Snodgrass

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof in any form. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means. This is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author's imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Purple Herb

  Publishing

  http://www.glsnodgrass.com/

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  [email protected]

  Thank you for your support

  Other Books by G. L. Snodgrass

  Young Adult Romance

  Certain Rules

  Unwritten Rules

  Unbreakable Rules

  My Brother's Bodyguard

  My Hidden Hero

  The Lakeland Boys

  My Favorite Love (Lakeland Boys 1)

  One Night (Lakeland Boys 2)

  My Brother’s Best Friend (Lakeland Boys 3)

  Worlds Apart (Lakeland Boys 4)

  My Brother's Bodyguard

  My Sister’s Best Friend

  Hidden Friends

  Love's Winding Road

  Finding You

  Regency Romance

  The Reluctant Duke

  The Viscount's Bride

  The Earl's Regret

  Marrying the Marquess

  Confronting a Rake

  Charming a Rake

  Forward

  As we all know. A big part of growing up is learning those certain, unwritten, unbreakable rules that help you navigate through life. We quickly learn that there are too many rules and they never seem to work in our favor. As someone once said. The teenage years are like a zombie movie. Our world turned on its head with new, unknown rules. And a monster around every corner.

  These stories are about normal people working to negotiate life and find love where they can. I hope you enjoy them.

  Certain Rules

  Chapter One

  Scott

  There are certain unwritten rules in high school. High on the list, close to the top, is one that says. ‘Thou shalt not have sex with your best friend’s girl.’ - A simple rule, understood by all. - Danny Carrs totally ignored it.

  Another rule even higher on the list says - ‘Thou shalt not beat the crap out of the star quarterback two days before the playoff game.’

  I sort of ignored that one. I figured it made us even. Needless to say, the jerks at school didn’t see it my way.

  They thought they were going to get to me with the silent treatment. The ice-cold stares and turned backs were nothing. They hadn’t grown up with my grandfather. Their weak attempts didn’t get to me. What killed me, a bone-deep death, was the laughter and snickering behind me, wherever I went.

  Scott James, the largest guy on campus, star left tackle, destined for the front line of Nebraska University, was a cuckold. Couldn’t keep a woman satisfied so she had to go somewhere else.

  “Steroids man, it kills it,” a high-pitched freshman voice whispered.

  A stupid sophomore girl, fresh from P.E., laughed and said, “You know I heard they used him for the model when they made Shrek, only they had to tone it down for the movie, it scared all the kids.”

  “I hear he’s so dumb he didn’t know how,” was repeatedly heard.

  The fact that she hadn’t ever let me try made it worse.

  I’d caught best bud Danny Carrs and the love of my life Miss Gina Woods, in his room the previous afternoon. She had her legs straight up in the air with Danny between them, pumping away like a locomotive going uphill. There are some sights that burn their way into your brain and you’ll never get ‘em out.

  I’d come to Danny’s to borrow a chemistry book; the world knew he’d never need it. The boy hadn’t cracked a book in the nine years I knew him. He had his head-banging music going full bore and never heard me knock. I stepped in, the room smelled like old socks and Ben Gay ointment. Gina screamed. Danny cursed, jumped up, and held out his hands as if to say, ‘it’s not what you think man.’

  Unfortunately, it was exactly what I thought, man. I saw red and swung.

  I’ve got to give him credit. He didn’t stay down. Not a very a smart move. But then Danny wasn’t a renowned genius.

  He’s your typical Greek god. – Brown curly hair and green eyes, six-one, hundred eighty. I’m more your Norse variety with black hair and the beginning of a scraggly red beard. I had him by three inches and seventy pounds; all of it pure muscle from a lifetime of slinging hay bales and four years of banging into fellow giants on the gridiron. Danny, on the other hand, made Justin Bieber look like an ugly slug.

  He jumped up and threw a quick jab. His fist hit me square in the jaw and I heard the bones in his hand crack with a sickening snap.

  The boy had never learned how to throw a punch. I’d been doing his fighting for him since fourth grade, both on and off the football field. But, he tried.

  I smiled and returned the favor with a left to the eye and a right to the ribs. He crumbled like a sack of potatoes dropped from the roof.

  And with that, the red rage left me to be replaced by a deep burning hurt. How could they do this to me? What did I do? I hadn’t felt this kind of gut-wrenching loss since my parents were killed seven years earlier.

  Gina knelt on the bed in all her naked glory, hiding behind a too small pillow.

  This was not how I anticipated seeing her naked for the first time. Long black hair messed up in the ultimate bed-head and porcelain white skin that looked purer than a fresh January snow.

  Her head swiveled back and forth between Danny and me as if watching a tennis match. Her mouth open in shock and her eyes clouded in confusion. Slowly awareness started to return and her eyes turned to fire.

  She screamed and jumped off the bed to cradle Danny’s head in her lap. “What have you done you giant oaf?” she yelled as if everything was my fault. She forgot about me and returned to brushing the hair from his eyes.

  I so wanted to come back with a witty retort, a small pithy saying that would put her in her place. Something that would go down in history as the smartest thing a guy in my situation ever said. If not that, at least something to take away the pain. Or better, something to hurt her as much as she’d hurt me.

  I had nothing. Nada. I stood there, my knuckles screaming, gobsmacked with reality. No nothing. I never had anything when it came to talking to girls. Maybe this is why I ended up in situations like this.

  My fists clenched. I hated her so much. She’d ruined everything.

  I felt like a worthless piece of crap. The red rage started to return. One of the few things I’m proud of that night is the fact that I somehow got myself under control. Letting out a big sigh I turned and stomped out.

  It had become hard to see, everything had gotten all misty. I made my way out of there and to my truck and home to the farm.

  My sister Mattie looked up as I stormed in, yelling that I wasn’t hungry. It probably raised a few red flags. I hadn’t missed a meal since I’d had my tonsils out at age three.

  They gave me space. They could see something was wrong and left me alone. Grandfather even did my chores for me without giving me a ration of crap about it. He’d get me later I was sure.

  The next morning at school was interesting, to say the least. The hallway full of students parted like the red sea before Moses. That sweet aroma of floor wax and teenage hormones washed
over me as I walked down the canyon, feeling every pointed barb and hateful glare.

  Of course, everyone knew what happened, or at least some twisted version.

  To them, I had become the monster who ruined their chance at shared glory. Taken any chance of a state championship out of the realm of possibility. The beast of the night, too big and too dumb to know what I’d done.

  They didn’t realize the half of it and just how close I came to losing it. I could feel the anger building in me like a raging forest fire. My heart raced, and my muscles were tighter than a drum. I wanted to hit something, hard. Desperately needed to crush something. Anything to make this pain go away.

  I'd thought she cared. She’d been my first steady girlfriend. She'd approached me first, for Christ’s sake. Coming up to me at last summer’s quarry party.

  Acting like I was something important. Staring at me through those long lashes, making feel like I was special. It'd all been a scam to get close to Danny. I could see it, now. She’d always wanted to know what he was up to, who he was seeing.

  It was Gina that announced our couplehood on Facebook after two dates to the movies. She was the one who said, ‘I love you,’ first. It was her that said she was ‘saving her virginity until marriage.’

  A fact that I could reluctantly accept. I’d have done anything to make her happy. People treated me differently because of her. If Gina Woods was my girlfriend, I must be pretty special, almost normal.

  And my best friend Danny, the bastard. We’d gone to war together on the field. I protected his back and he shared his fame and glory.

  What had I done to them? Where did I screw up?

  I found myself sitting in Mrs. Hollis’ AP History class wondering how the hell I got there. A quick glance at the clock said we only had a couple of minutes left. Earth to Scott, get your shit together boy, it’s going to be a long day and you’re going to need to focus.

  A short beep over the intercom made everybody jump and look at the speaker on the wall.

  “Mrs. Hollis, please send Scott James to my office, thank you,” a grumbly voice said.

  There weren’t any laughs, no snickers, not even a whoop whoop. Everybody knew what this was about and were hoping for the worst. A sea of gleeful smiles and hateful eyes watched me leave.

  Only Katie River seemed to be on my side. Her sorrowful eyes looked like she was watching a puppy being taken to the execution chamber.

  One out of twenty-five was more than I expected. The rest of them stared and remained silent as I gathered my stuff and headed out the door before the teacher could say a word. It’s not like I didn’t expect it.

  The hallways were as barren as an Arizona desert and my steps echoed off the lockers as I made my way to the Principal, Mr. Turner’s office.

  Would the cops be there?

  I could see it now. Being led out of the school in cuffs, hands behind my back. Everybody standing there cheering and yelling junk. Screw it, things couldn’t get worse.

  I glanced into Mr. Turner’s office and realized how wrong I could be. Grandfather sat in one of the chairs. My stomach dropped to the floor and I had a hard time swallowing. Crap, this had gotten so much worse. The thought of disappointing him made me break out in hives.

  Old battle ax Betty, the principal’s secretary and the center around which the school revolved, nodded her head that I should go right in. Her eyes narrowed in scorn and I thought for sure I’d melt before I made it to the door. I gave a quick knock and entered.

  My grandfather raised an eyebrow as I entered, at least he didn’t look like he hated me. Not yet. They mustn’t have told him.

  “Scott, thank you for coming,” the principal said indicating I should take the remaining free chair.

  A cough behind me startled me for a moment. Coach Carlson followed me into the room, firmly closing the door.

  He wore his normal coach clothes, white polo shirt and red shorts with tube socks and tennis shoes. His friggin’ whistle hung around his neck. Did he ever take it off? The man probably wore it to bed and used it anytime Mrs. Carlson got out of bounds.

  I sat next to Grandfather. The chair felt hard and unforgiving. The room smelled like paper and maybe a faint hint of tobacco, Mr. Turner had been sneaking cigarettes, again.

  He looked at the coach and then at my grandfather. He seemed to be avoiding looking at me.

  “Mr. James, thank you for coming in so quickly,” he said.

  My grandfather, the official ‘Mr. James,’ nodded his head. He never did go in for the simple pleasantries of conversation.

  Taking a deep breath, Mr. Tuner brought his hands together. Interlocked his fingers and set them on the desk in front of him.

  “Yesterday, your grandson, beat a fellow student, Danny Carrs. He hurt him so bad that the boy had to be taken to the hospital. They operated on him this morning and he should be released later this afternoon.”

  “Two days before the playoffs,” Coach Carlson snapped from behind us.

  My grandfather didn’t say anything, just looked at the principal and waited for the rest. I could see his hands gripping his jeans. His knuckles were turning white. Boy was he pissed. To show that much emotion said a lot.

  “As you can imagine, we can’t have our students fighting. Especially young men who should be setting an example. I am afraid I am going to have to Expe…”

  “Hold it a second,” my grandfather said, shocking me with his gravelly voice. He didn’t normally interrupt people.

  “Yes, Mr. James?” the principal asked, his eyebrow rising.

  Grandfather stared at the principal for a moment his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. “Did this fight occur on school grounds?”

  “It wasn’t a fight, it was a beating. Our most important player no less. Scott’s supposed to be protecting him, not putting him in the hospital,” Coach Carlson said.

  My grandfather turned in his chair as his eyes narrowed and his brow creased. He shot the Coach a look that could freeze water on a warm day.

  “I remember you getting into a fight or two in your younger days, Jake. In fact, if I remember correctly, Scott’s dad kicked your butt in eighth grade after he caught you bullying some of the smaller boys.”

  Coach Carlson sputtered for a moment. I hadn’t known that about dad and Coach. That might explain a couple of things.

  “That was kid’s stuff, this is way more serious,” Coach said.

  “Why, because of who got hurt, or the fact it happened a couple of days before a football game?”

  Wow, I couldn’t believe this, the old man stuck up for me. Of course, that was all going to change when he found out why.

  Grandfather had always told me that a man who couldn’t control his emotions wasn’t much of a man. That I was responsible for what I did. No excuse.

  He’d also drilled into me the fact that a guy my size had a special responsibility of staying in control. People could get hurt otherwise. Danny most definitely proved that last point.

  Grandfather turned back to Mr. Turner. He hadn’t asked what the fight was about. Hadn’t looked at me to see if I was all right. He’d just assumed what the principal said was true.

  “And why aren’t the police here?” Grandfather asked, pausing for a moment. “I assume Danny’s dad decided not to press charges. That must mean his old man’s embarrassed about something. Either the fact that his precious son got his ass kicked. Or, the reason behind the fight. Probably both.”

  Mr. Turner sighed. “We don’t know the reason. Maybe Scott would like to enlighten us?”

  They all looked at me as if I had the answer to the meaning of life and was holding out on them. I stared back but didn’t say a word. They would learn soon enough. It surprised me they hadn’t heard the story already.

  Turner’s eyes glinted and I realized the bastard had heard. He wanted me to say it out loud.

  My virgin girlfriend preferred to have sex with my best friend instead of me. I’d always thought he was a bit of an
asshole. It wasn’t until that moment that I knew how much.

  I took a deep breath and got ready to let loose on them. To tell them what I thought about their friggin’ school and where they could put it. They didn’t care about Danny or me. It was the fact that we might have brought the school, and therefore the town, a trophy. Some brass statue to be put in the front case where Mr. Alverez, the janitor would dust it off twice a year. I could feel the rage rising like a coke bottle ready to explode.

  A bony hand grasped my arm. My grandfather's gnarled fingers held me back. It shocked me, how old they looked. Brown age spots had appeared on the back of his hand. When did that happen? I’d seen those hands twist barb wire into shape one day then sooth a struggling heifer as she gave birth the next.

  I looked into his eyes and saw a glint of something I didn’t understand.

  “Actually, Mr. Turner, I don’t believe you can punish Scott. It didn’t happen during school or on school grounds,” my grandfather said as he leaned back in his chair.

  Turner looked as if someone had let the air out of him and stared at his hands.

  “It might not have happened on school grounds. But I can sure do something about it.” Coach Carlson said from his perch behind us.

  “Scott signed a contract at the beginning of the season, all of the boys did, and promised not to do anything that hurt the team cohesion. I think this qualifies. Scott is off the team. Period.”

  My gut clenched into the tightest knot. I figured this would probably be the case. To actually hear the words felt like a helmet to the middle.

  I stared out the window like it didn’t mean a thing. Hell, I’d have taken an expulsion if it meant I could have stayed on the team. They couldn’t do anything worse.

  “What’s more,” Coach continued. “I plan on calling Coach Stevens at the university and letting him know what has happened. I’m pretty sure you can kiss that scholarship goodbye.”

  I swear to God he sounded like a little kid.

  Well, there it was. The final whistle. Game over. I’d been waiting for it ever since I threw that first punch the day before. My one way out. My one dream, gone. Just like that.