Page 37 of Rule Breaker
CHAPTER 15
KAYDEN
Standing outside the library, Maddox was pale, sweating, and visibly shaking. My first instinct was to reach out to him, but when I made to step closer, he backed away.
“I need to be alone. I mean it, Kay. Just go.”
It was the first time he’d called me that. I nodded, ignoring my gut. I let up. For once.
“I’ll see you at practice Thursday, yeah?” I asked.
Maddox nodded and leaned forward, hands on his thighs, head down.
“Text if you need to talk or anything,” I said.
No reply.
I was still unsure about leaving him alone like this, but I did.
Two weeks later, and I was still thinking about that day. Had I made the wrong decision by leaving Maddox alone like that?
I’d been working my courage up to text him, but every time I started typing out a message, I stopped. But I thought about him. Every fucking day. To the point where I was distracted in class—not that it took much—and at night. It took forever for me to fall asleep.
The only time I saw Maddox was at practice, but he ignored me. I was ready for the sharp replies, but instead I got nothing. And I didn’t know what was worse.
Last week I’d arrived at the library for our study session. I waited half an hour before realizing he wasn’t going to show.
And here I was, another week later, waiting again. Hoping this time he’d make good on his promise. I’d booked the same room and waited until 12:10 hit. This was ridiculous. He wasn’t coming.
I was about to grab my stuff and leave when there was a knock at the door. When Maddox appeared, I got up so fast I nearly toppled my chair.
Smooth, Kay.
He was dressed in his usual jeans and leather jacket.
“Hey.” He nodded and sat down.
I did the same and opened my laptop.
“You didn’t show up last week,” I stated. “I was gonna text you but?—”
“I’m here now, aren’t I?” he snapped.
Thank fuck that Mad was, well, mad. He was back. And I’d never been so happy at having a grump around.
“Yes, you are.”
I wanted to ask him if he was feeling better, but I didn’t want to poke the bear. Not too hard, anyway.
He reached into his bag and pulled out what looked like a journal, a set of pens, and… stickers?
“Here.” He placed them in front of me. “Okay, let’s start with reviewing chapter five and six on macro?—”
“Wait, what’s all this?” I asked him, confused as hell.
“It’s a type of journal designed for people with dyslexia. And apparently, color coding things, with pens or stuff like stickers, is like a visual prompt that makes it more engaging.”
Wait. He’d bought this stuff forme?