Chapter 26
Summer's POV
I woke up at six a.m. on Tuesday with my alarm blaring "Good Morning" by Kanye West, which felt deeply ironic considering I'd gotten maybe four hours of sleep. My eyes felt like they'd been rubbed with sandpaper, and when I checked my phone, the screen brightness made me wince.
But I was awake. And I had a plan.
I grabbed my physics problem set from my desk, scanning through the problems I'd redone last night. The equations still looked right—or at least, they looked less wrong than my first attempt. I'd triple-checked the momentum calculations, redrawn the force diagrams, highlighted every formula I'd used. If Kieran looked at this and told me I was completely off base, at least I could say I'd tried.
I showered quickly, letting the hot water wake me up properly. When I got out, I stared at my closet for a solid minute, which was ridiculous because we wore uniforms. But I still found myself choosing the newer white button-down instead of the one with the tiny coffee stain near the hem, and I made sure my pleated skirt sat just right at my waist.
You're being insane, I told myself. He's just going to look at your problem set for like two minutes and tell you if your approach is wrong. This is not a date.
But my hands were shaking slightly as I folded the problem set into my bag.
---
Mia was waiting for me at the front gates with two iced coffees from Dunkin' Donuts, her short hair still damp from her own morning shower. She handed me one with a knowing smile.
"You look exhausted," she said.
"Thanks, that's exactly what I needed to hear."
"I'm serious. Did you stay up all night?"
I took a long sip of coffee—caramel swirl, my favorite, because Mia actually paid attention. "Until one. Physics."
She raised her eyebrows. "Wow. I mean, I know you said you wanted to do well, but—"
"I just don't want to look stupid," I interrupted, my voice coming out sharper than I intended. "Sorry. I'm just...nervous."
"About seeing Kieran?"
My face heated instantly. "About the problem set."
"Uh-huh." Mia's smile widened. "Sure."
We started walking toward the main building, our shoes crunching on the gravel path. St. Jude's looked almost pretty in the early morning light, the red brick glowing warm, the oak trees casting long shadows across the lawn.
"So what time are you meeting him?" Mia asked.
"Morning break. Science Wing."
She nodded slowly, sipping her coffee. "You know, I've been thinking about what you said yesterday. About Evan."
I tensed. "What about him?"
"Just...I'm really glad you ended things. Like, really glad. He never deserved you."
Something warm and tight squeezed in my chest. "Thanks, Mia. That means a lot."
"I mean it. And honestly?" She lowered her voice. "I think Kieran is way better. I know he's kind of...intense. But at least he's real."
I almost choked on my coffee. "Kieran? We're not—I mean, he's just my seatmate."
"For now," she said, grinning.
---
We had our duty assignment right after arriving—cleaning the outdoor study area near the tennis courts. It was one of the less terrible jobs, usually, but after last night's rain I was expecting a disaster.
We grabbed our supplies from the janitor's closet and headed out, our breath fogging in the cold morning air. The stone path was slick with wet leaves, and I had to watch my step to avoid slipping in my flats.
"This is going to be disgusting," Mia predicted, adjusting her grip on the plastic trash bag.
But when we pushed open the iron gate to the study area, we both stopped dead.
It was...clean.
Not just clean—spotless. The concrete ground had been swept and mopped, the benches wiped down, the trash cans emptied and fitted with fresh bags. Even the fallen leaves had been raked into neat piles in the corners, and the metal gate hinges had been oiled so they didn't squeak.
Mia's mouth fell open. "What the hell?"
I walked forward slowly, scanning the area. The concrete was still slightly damp from mopping, and there was a faint smell of pine cleaner in the air—the industrial kind the school janitors used. But the janitors never came to the outdoor areas. That was the whole point of student duty assignments.
"Maybe someone from another class did it by mistake?" Mia suggested, but she didn't sound convinced.
I crouched down, running my fingers over the ground. There were mop streaks, fresh and deliberate. Someone had done this recently—probably early this morning, before most students arrived.
"The janitors don't start until eight," I said slowly. "And it's only seven-twenty now."
Mia looked around nervously, like whoever had done this might still be hiding nearby. "So...who?"
I stood up, my heart doing something strange and fluttery. In my first life, I'd heard rumors about boys who secretly cleaned their crushes' duty areas for years before confessing. But that was ridiculous. Who would do that for me? Especially after everything that had happened with Evan, after The Whisper blog had torn my reputation to shreds?
No one would, I told myself firmly. Don't be stupid. Someone probably just got the assignment wrong.
"Come on," I said, grabbing her arm. "Let's just go. We don't have to do anything."
As we left, I couldn't help glancing back. The morning sun was filtering through the oak trees, casting dappled shadows over the clean ground, and for just a second I let myself imagine someone out here in the dark, mopping and sweeping...
I shook my head hard. Stop it. You're being ridiculous.
---
Homeroom was the usual chaos. Ms. Thompson was trying to take attendance while half the class finished last-minute homework and the other half gossiped about weekend drama. I slid into my seat, hyper-aware of the empty chair beside me.
Kieran wasn't here yet.
I told myself it was fine. He was probably in the competition classroom already, or in the library, or literally anywhere else. He didn't have to be in homeroom. He barely came to regular classes anyway, now that he had that special arrangement.
But my eyes kept drifting to his empty desk.
"...heard he got another perfect score on the practice exam," someone was saying behind me. Tyler Ashford, probably, or one of his friends.
"Of course he did. He's basically a robot."
"I heard he doesn't even do the regular homework anymore. Just competition stuff."
"Must be nice."
I gripped my pen tighter, fighting the urge to turn around and tell them to shut up. They talked about Kieran like he was some kind of alien specimen, not a seventeen-year-old kid who'd been up late studying just like the rest of us. Except unlike them, he didn't have a warm house to go home to, or a mother who could afford tutors, or a future that didn't hinge entirely on winning competitions.
The bell rang. Still no Kieran.
Ms. Thompson launched into announcements about the upcoming fall dance and some fundraiser for new lab equipment. I pretended to listen while my brain spun in circles.
What if he forgot about meeting me? What if he changed his mind? What if he thinks I'm just using him and decided it's not worth the hassle?