Chapter 43
Summer's POV
I went to Ms. Thompson's office.
She looked up from her computer when I knocked, her expression immediately shifting to concern. "Summer? Is everything alright?"
"No." I stepped inside and closed the door behind me. "I need to report a case of cyberbullying."
Ms. Thompson gestured for me to sit. "Tell me what's going on."
I pulled out my phone and showed her The Whisper posts. Her expression grew progressively more troubled as she scrolled through the comments.
"This is about Kieran Cross," she said quietly.
"Yes." I leaned forward. "These posts are spreading completely false information about him. Some of them are implying he has a criminal record. It's defamatory and it's cruel and it needs to stop."
Ms. Thompson sighed, handing my phone back. "Summer, I appreciate your concern. I really do. But The Whisper is an anonymous platform hosted off school servers. We have very limited ability to track or remove posts."
"So you're just going to let people destroy his reputation?" My voice rose despite my best efforts to stay calm. "You're going to let them make up lies about him and there's no consequences?"
"I'll bring it up at the next faculty meeting," Ms. Thompson said carefully. "And I'll ask IT to see if they can identify any students posting from school devices. But honestly, once something like this starts spreading..." She trailed off, her expression sympathetic.
"So that's it?" I felt tears of frustration building behind my eyes. "The school just does nothing while Kieran gets torn apart?"
"I understand you want to help him." Ms. Thompson's voice was gentle. "But sometimes the best thing we can do is give people space to handle things in their own way. Especially teenage boys with strong pride—they don't always appreciate being rescued."
The word "rescued" hit me like a punch to the gut. Was that what I was trying to do? Rescue him?
"I'm not trying to rescue him," I said, but my voice lacked conviction. "I'm trying to stop people from hurting him."
"I know." Ms. Thompson's expression was kind but firm. "And I will do what I can through official channels. But Summer, you need to be careful too. Don't let your desire to help Cross put your own wellbeing at risk."
I left her office feeling hollow and defeated. The school wasn't going to do anything. The posts would keep spreading. And Kieran would have to face all of it alone.
Unless I found a way to change that.
---
After school, I didn't go home.
I stood under the oak tree outside the science building, staring up at the third-floor windows where I knew the physics team practiced. The sun was starting to sink lower in the sky, painting everything in shades of amber and gold, but I barely noticed.
My phone buzzed. A text from Maya: Your mother has been waiting for 30 minutes. Where are you?
I typed back quickly: Taking the T home today. Don't wait.
Immediately, my phone rang. Mom's number.
I let it go to voicemail, then sent a text: I'm safe. Just have something I need to handle. I promise I'll be home before dinner.
Another buzz. Maya again: This is unacceptable. You can't just—
I silenced my phone and shoved it in my pocket.
The minutes ticked by. The sky shifted from gold to pink to deep purple. One by one, the lights in the science building went dark. Students trickled out of various exits, heading to sports practices or music lessons or just going home. But I didn't see Kieran.
Maybe he'd left through the back entrance. Maybe he'd skipped practice entirely. Maybe he was deliberately avoiding all the places he knew I might look for him.
I sat down on the bench beneath the oak tree, watching the last light fade from the sky. My feet ached. My fingers were numb from the cold. But I couldn't make myself leave.
In my previous life, Kieran's hand injury hadn't been exposed like this. Not this early, not this violently. He'd learned to hide it better, to compensate so well that most people never even noticed. He'd made it through high school without ever being publicly humiliated the way he had been today.
But that was before I'd interfered.
The thought hit me like ice water. If I hadn't made such a big deal about the cafeteria situation, Mr. Harrison wouldn't have investigated Kieran's work situation. If I hadn't filed that complaint, Kieran wouldn't have been transferred to the library, wouldn't have had time in his schedule for gym class. If I hadn't been so publicly attached to him, Tyler and Blake might have left him alone.
What if I was making everything worse?
What if my attempts to help him were actually destroying the careful survival strategies he'd built? What if I was just satisfying my own need to feel useful, to feel like I was fixing my past mistakes, without actually considering what he needed?
I remembered something he'd said to me in our previous life, during one of our worst fights: "You think you're helping me? You're just feeding your own savior complex. You don't actually see me at all."
At the time, I'd been hurt. Defensive. But now, sitting alone in the dark, I wondered if he'd been right.
"I'm sorry," I whispered to the empty courtyard. "I'm sorry if I'm making things harder for you. I just... I just didn't want you to be alone anymore."
But maybe alone was what he needed to be.
---
I was about to give up and go home when I heard footsteps behind me.
"What are you doing out here?"
I spun around, heart leaping—but it wasn't Kieran.
It was Evan.
He was wearing his crew team jacket, hair slightly damp from practice, looking at me with a mixture of surprise and something that might have been hope.
"I'm..." I stood up quickly, brushing off my skirt. "I was just leaving."
"You've been sitting here for over an hour." He stepped closer. "I saw you from the boathouse. Are you waiting for someone?"
None of your business, I wanted to say. But I was too tired for another confrontation. "I was. But they're not coming."
Evan's eyes narrowed slightly. "You're waiting for Cross, aren't you?"
I didn't answer, which was answer enough.
His expression shifted into something harder. "Summer, you need to be careful. The whole school is talking about what happened in gym class today. People are saying—"
"I don't care what people are saying." I cut him off. "And if you're about to repeat any of that garbage from The Whisper, I'm not interested."
"I'm not—" He stopped, clearly frustrated. "I'm trying to look out for you. You're putting yourself in a really weird position, defending someone with that kind of background—"
"Evan." I looked him directly in the eyes. "I remember very clearly that you never cared where I was or what I was doing when we were together. So please don't start pretending to care now."
His face flushed. "That's not fair."
"Isn't it?" I picked up my bag. "I have to go."
"Summer, wait—"