Chapter 186
Summer's POV
The fourth-period bell rang, sharp and final, cutting through the fog that had settled over me since I'd hung up with Kieran. I was out of my seat before anyone else even moved, my bag half-zipped and dangling from one shoulder. Mia shot me a knowing look as I squeezed past her desk, but I didn't stop to explain. My heart was hammering so hard I could feel it in my throat, in my fingertips, in every step I took toward the library.
The hallways were packed with students changing classes, their voices a dull roar that seemed to press in from all sides. I pushed through them, barely registering faces or conversations, my mind fixed on one thing: Kieran would be there. He'd promised he would be there.
The New Reading Room was tucked away on the third floor of the east wing, its far wall lined with floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the river. I spotted him the moment I stepped through the door—leaning against that far wall near the physics shelves, his dark gray hoodie unzipped just enough to show the white T-shirt underneath. His right hand was shoved deep in his pocket, while his left held a copy of The Feynman Lectures on Physics. But he wasn't reading. His gaze was fixed somewhere beyond the glass, out toward the water.
"Kieran," I said, and my voice came out breathless, shaky from the speed I'd kept up on the stairs.
He turned immediately. Those storm-gray eyes locked onto mine, and for a moment neither of us moved. Then he set the book down on the nearest table and crossed the space between us in three long strides.
"Summer, I'm sorry. I should have told you sooner."
I shook my head before he could finish. "No. Don't apologize for things that aren't your fault." I reached out, hesitated for half a second, then took his left hand in both of mine. "The food cart... your dad... I can't believe you've been dealing with all of this alone."
His throat worked, Adam's apple bobbing. "It's not your problem to worry about."
"But it is!" The words came out louder than I meant them to, and I immediately dropped my voice, glancing around to make sure we hadn't drawn attention. "You're my boyfriend. Your problems are my problems. That's what this means, right?"
Something shifted in his expression, something raw and unguarded that made my chest ache. He looked at me like I'd just said something incomprehensible, like he was still trying to translate it into a language that made sense.
"I told myself I was keeping it from you because of your piano competition," he said quietly, his gaze dropping to our joined hands. "That I didn't want to distract you, didn't want to mess up something you'd worked so hard for. But the truth is..." He swallowed hard, his jaw tightening. "I didn't want you to see me like this. Weak. Helpless."
I reached up and pressed my hand over his mouth. "You're not weak. You're the strongest person I know." I took a breath, steadying myself. "Listen to me. I'm going to help you figure this out. We'll go to the police, we'll get your mom's ID replaced, we'll report your dad for theft—whatever it takes."
He caught my wrist gently, pulling my hand away from his lips but not letting go. "You don't have to do that."
"I want to," I said, and I meant it with every fiber of my being. "And I need you to let me. Please."
He was quiet for a long moment. Then his gaze dropped to the floor, and his voice came out barely above a whisper. "Summer, I didn't tell you everything. The license issue, the health code violations—that was bad enough. But that wasn't why I sounded like I did." He swallowed hard. "My dad... he didn't just let the cart fail. He took everything. The savings I'd been putting away since sophomore year, all of it. And then he left."
The words landed like stones in my chest. "He left?"