Chapter 178
Summer's POV
I took the box, my hands trembling slightly, and felt tears prick at my eyes. Not because of the gift itself—though it was thoughtful and sweet and perfect—but because of what it meant. Because he'd run that race for me, had bet his right to be near me on his own ability and won, had literally fought for me in the most public way possible.
Behind Kieran, I could see Evan and Brooke standing together near the equipment shed, both of them staring at us with expressions of pure venom. Brooke's perfect composure had completely shattered, her face twisted with jealousy and rage, and Evan looked like he wanted to commit murder, his fists clenched at his sides, his chest heaving with more than just physical exertion.
Logan was doubled over laughing, pointing at them and whispering something to Mia that made her burst into giggles, and all around us, students were talking and taking pictures and generally treating this like the most entertaining thing that had happened at St. Jude's in years.
Kieran seemed oblivious to all of it. He touched my shoulder again, that same possessive gesture from earlier, and then he turned and walked straight toward where Evan stood, his stride confident and unhurried, like a predator approaching cornered prey.
I followed without thinking, the LEGO box clutched against my chest like armor, and I saw Evan's eyes widen slightly as Kieran stopped directly in front of him, close enough that they were nearly chest to chest.
"The bet's settled," Kieran said, his voice carrying clearly despite its quietness. "You lost. That means you stay away from her. You don't talk to her, you don't look at her, you don't even think about her. If I see you anywhere near Summer again, we're going to have a problem. Understand?"
Evan's face had gone an ugly shade of red, his hands shaking with barely suppressed rage. "You think this is over? You think winning one race makes you—"
"I think you need to leave," Kieran interrupted, his tone flat and final. "Now. Get the fuck out of here before you embarrass yourself even more than you already have."
For a long moment, nobody moved. The entire crowd seemed to be holding its breath, waiting to see if Evan would actually swing at Kieran, if this confrontation would turn into an actual fight. Blake had moved closer, his expression uncertain, like he wasn't sure whether to defend his friend or try to drag him away, one hand half-raised in a gesture that looked like it wanted to be placating but couldn't quite commit.
But then Evan's shoulders slumped, just slightly, and I saw the exact moment he realized he'd lost—not just the race, but everything else too. His status, his pride, his claim on me. All of it gone in one afternoon.
"This isn't finished," he said, but his voice had lost its edge, had become something hollow and defeated.
"Yeah, it is," Logan called out cheerfully from behind us. "Take the L with some dignity, Whitmore."
Evan shot him a murderous look, then turned that same glare on me. "You're going to regret this, Summer. Both of you are."
Then he turned and walked away, and Blake finally moved, reaching out to touch his friend's arm, his mouth opening like he was about to say something—maybe try to calm him down, maybe suggest they leave together—but Evan shoved him aside with enough force that Blake stumbled backward, nearly colliding with several other students who'd been watching. Evan kept walking, his retreating form stiff with humiliation, shoving past anyone who didn't move out of his way fast enough.
Brooke hesitated for a moment, looking between Kieran and Evan like she couldn't decide who to follow, but eventually, she hurried after Evan, her cheerleading skirt swishing around her thighs as she called his name, her voice high and desperate and almost pleading.
He didn't stop. Didn't even slow down. Just kept walking until he disappeared into the main school building, leaving Brooke standing alone in the middle of the athletic field, looking lost and small and utterly defeated.
I watched her chase after a guy who clearly didn't care, and something twisted in my chest. Not forgiveness—but something like pity. She reminded me of who I used to be, shrinking myself for Evan's attention.
Almost felt sorry for her. Then I remembered her calling me a whale, the satisfaction on her face when I cried, and whatever sympathy I'd felt evaporated.
Kieran turned back to me, his expression softening as he took in my face—probably still flushed from running, probably still showing every emotion I'd felt during that race. "You okay?" he asked, and there was genuine concern in his voice, like he was worried that confrontation had been too much for me.
"You just won," I said, my voice coming out slightly breathless. "You actually won. And you gave me your prize. And you told Evan Whitmore to fuck off in front of half the school." I laughed, the sound slightly hysterical. "I'm way better than okay. I'm incredible. Today is incredible. You're incredible."
Kieran said with a smile, "You're incredible, Summer."
And then, right there in front of everyone, with the entire school watching and whispering and taking pictures, he pulled me into a hug—brief and careful and completely perfect, his arms strong around me, his heart pounding against my cheek, his body still warm from the race and smelling like sweat and victory.
When he pulled back, I saw Mia and Logan grinning at us like idiots, saw dozens of other students staring with expressions ranging from shock to envy to grudging approval.