Chapter 153
Summer's POV
The morning light filtering through the classroom window felt different today—softer, almost forgiving. I sat at my desk, fingers wrapped around a pen I wasn't really using, pretending to take notes while Ms. Thompson went on about Field Day logistics. Something about relay teams and equipment sign-ups. My brain registered none of it.
All I could think about was April fifteenth.
The date sat in my mind like a stone dropped into still water, sending ripples through everything else. Ms. Thompson's voice became background noise as I stared at the flyer she was pinning to the bulletin board: ST. JUDE'S ANNUAL FIELD DAY - APRIL 15TH.
My birthday. The numbers engraved on that Zippo lighter. The combination to the lock I'd given him.
"Summer?"
I blinked. Ms. Thompson was staring at me expectantly, one eyebrow raised. Heat crawled up my neck.
"Sorry, what?"
A few people snickered. She sighed, pushing her glasses up her nose.
"I said, this is your last chance to make memories that aren't about test scores. Next year you'll be seniors drowning in college apps. Field Day matters."
The bell rang. I stayed in my seat a beat too long, staring at that date. Three weeks away. Three weeks until I'd see him again—really see him, not just stolen moments between his training sessions or late-night texts when he finally had time to breathe.
"You coming?"
Mia appeared at my elbow, backpack already slung over her shoulder. I forced a smile.
"Yeah. Just thinking."
"About the outfit you're designing?"
"Something like that."
She grinned. "Can't wait to see it. You've been so secretive about the whole thing."
We walked toward the dining hall together, and I let her chatter wash over me. The truth was, I had been working on that cheerleading outfit for weeks—sketching, adjusting, perfecting every detail. Not because I cared about spirit points or school pride, but because I'd told him he had to see it. Because I'd promised myself that on April fifteenth, I'd give him something to look forward to.
Something that wasn't physics competitions or family crises or whatever weight he was carrying on his shoulders these days.
---
The dining hall buzzed with its usual chaos. Mia and I found our spot by the window, trays loaded with food I actually had an appetite for today. Things felt... lighter, somehow. Like the worst of the storm had passed.
I glanced toward the physics team's table out of habit. Empty today, but that was normal. Kieran had been splitting his time between remote learning and occasional training sessions at school. It was working for him—better than I'd hoped, honestly.
"So," Mia said, pulling my attention back. "Field Day sign-up sheet is almost full. You're definitely doing cheerleading, right?"
"Obviously. I already designed the outfit."
"And you're making Kieran come watch?"
Heat crept into my cheeks. "I didn't make him do anything. He said he'd be there."
"For the 5000m race?"
"Maybe. If he feels like it." I picked at my salad, trying to sound casual. "The first place prize is that LEGO architecture set. I told him Lily would love it."
Mia's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Right. It's totally about the LEGO set. Nothing to do with you wanting him to see you in that outfit."
"Shut up."
"I'm just saying—"
"Mia."
She laughed, holding up her hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. I'll stop. But seriously, Summer. It's nice seeing you like this."
"Like what?"
"Happy. Excited about something. You've been different since..." She trailed off, searching for the right words. "Since you two started talking more. In a good way."
I thought about that night at the burger place, the way he'd insisted on paying even though I knew money was tight. The way his ears had turned red when the cashier assumed I was his girlfriend. The small, careful touches—his pinky hooking around mine, his hand warm against my palm.
"Yeah," I said softly. "I guess I am happy."
"Good." Mia squeezed my hand across the table. "You deserve it."
---
The afternoon passed in a pleasant blur of classes and conversations. I found myself actually paying attention in physics, actually engaging with the material instead of just going through the motions. Ms. Thompson noticed too, if the approving nod she gave me was any indication.
After school, I headed to the arts building for my usual practice session. The piano room was empty, sunlight streaming through the tall windows, dust motes dancing in the air. I sat down at the bench, fingers finding the keys automatically, and let myself get lost in Rachmaninoff.
This was good. This was normal. No spiraling anxiety, no constant checking my phone, no sick feeling in my stomach every time I thought about him. Just music and spring sunshine and the knowledge that in three weeks, I'd see him again.
My phone buzzed halfway through the second movement. I finished the phrase before checking it.
Kieran [3:47 PM]: Training ran late. How was your day?
I smiled, typing back quickly.
Summer [3:48 PM]: Good! Practiced Rachmaninoff until my fingers hurt. You?
Kieran [3:49 PM]: Solved fifteen thermodynamics problems. Coach says I'm on track.
Summer [3:50 PM]: Of course you are. You're brilliant.
A pause. Then:
Kieran [3:52 PM]: Mock exam results should post soon. Next week probably.
My heart did a little flip. The four-school competition. I'd almost forgotten about it with everything else going on.
Summer [3:53 PM]: Nervous?
Kieran [3:54 PM]: Should I be?
Summer [3:55 PM]: No. You're going to crush it.
Kieran [3:56 PM]: We'll see.
Summer [3:57 PM]: I'll see. And I'll be right.
I could practically hear him laughing at that, could picture the way his mouth would quirk up at the corner, trying not to smile.
Kieran [3:59 PM]: Confident.
Summer [4:00 PM]: In you? Always.
He didn't respond right away, but I wasn't worried. He was probably back to studying, or helping Lily with homework, or doing any of the hundred other things he juggled every day. The silence didn't feel heavy anymore. It just felt like... life.
I went back to practicing, fingers moving across the keys, and let myself enjoy the moment.
---
That evening, Mom and I had dinner together—a rare occurrence these days with her schedule. She'd brought home Thai takeout, and we ate at the kitchen island, talking about everything and nothing.
"So," she said, twirling pad thai around her fork. "Field Day is coming up."
"Yep. April fifteenth."
"Your birthday."
"Yep."
She studied me for a moment, something knowing in her eyes. "You seem excited about it this year."
"I designed a cheerleading outfit. It's going to be amazing."
"I'm sure it will be." She paused. "And that boy you've been seeing more of lately—will he be there?"
My cheeks heated. "Mom—"
"I'm just asking, honey. You've been in a much better mood recently. I'm happy for you."