Chapter 191
Summer's POV
"The Whisper," I said quietly, my throat tight. "It's all over the app. Everyone's talking about it. Someone posted photos of you in that stupid vest serving drinks to—"
His hands clenched into fists, and I saw his jaw twitch. "Those rich kids really have nothing better to do, do they?"
"You worked so hard," I whispered, and the tears were falling now, hot and fast down my cheeks. "You won the sports competition. You made the physics team. You finally got people at St. Jude's to respect you, and now they're destroying your reputation with lies and gossip—"
"I don't care about my reputation." His voice was flat, emotionless. "The only thing that matters right now is money. That's it. Nothing else."
The words hit me like a slap. "Then what about me?" My voice broke, and I hated how small I sounded, how pathetic. "Is money more important than me? Is this really what you want, Kieran? Staying at The Crimson Lounge with a fake ID, pretending to be someone named Cyan, letting strangers touch you—"
"I'm sorry." He turned away from me, his shoulders rigid. "But Lily needs me. She's my responsibility. I can't let her down."
"You think I don't understand responsibility?!" I shouted, and my voice echoed in the alley, sharp and desperate. "You think I don't know what it's like to—"
"You DON'T understand!" He whirled around, and suddenly he was the one shouting, his voice raw and ragged with frustration. "You don't understand because you've never had to! You live in a brownstone in Back Bay! Your mom drives a Mercedes and donates buildings to your school! You can throw a fat stack of cash in the air like it's NOTHING because to you, it IS nothing!"
I flinched, the words cutting deeper than I expected.
"I know you have a good heart, Summer," he continued, his voice quieter now but still edged with bitterness. "I know you want to help. But that's exactly WHY I couldn't tell you. Don't you get it? I can't be the charity case you fix. I can't be the poor boyfriend you rescue with your allowance money."
"That's not fair," I whispered, my chest tight.
"Isn't it?" He looked at me, and his eyes were so tired, so worn down. "You want to know why I didn't tell you? Because I knew you'd react exactly like this. You'd throw money at the problem and expect it to go away. But my life doesn't work like that."
The words hung between us, heavy and painful, and for a moment, neither of us spoke. The only sound was the distant hum of traffic and the drip of water from a broken gutter somewhere above us.
Then I stepped forward, closing the distance between us, and I grabbed the front of his shirt with both hands. "Did you think about me," I said, my voice shaking with anger and hurt and something deeper I couldn't name, "when you knelt down for those women? Did you think about how it would make me feel? Did you even CARE that it would break my heart to see them treating you like that?"
His expression cracked, just a little.
"You've never let yourself be vulnerable with me," I continued, and my voice was barely a whisper now, choked with tears. "Not once. But you'll do it for strangers who pay you? You'll let them touch you and humiliate you, and you think that's okay? You think I can just stand by and watch that happen?"
"Summer—"
"I don't want to see people hurting you!" The words burst out of me, desperate and raw. "I don't care if you think I don't understand! I don't care if you think I'm some spoiled rich girl who doesn't know what it's like to struggle! I just—I can't watch you destroy yourself like this!"
For a long moment, he just stared at me, his chest rising and falling with harsh breaths, his eyes dark and conflicted. Then, slowly, his shoulders sagged, and he pulled me into his arms, wrapping them around me so tightly I could barely breathe.
"Okay," he murmured against my hair, his voice rough and broken. "Okay. I'm sorry. I'll quit. I won't go back there. I promise."
I buried my face in his chest and sobbed, my hands clutching the back of his shirt like I was afraid he'd disappear if I let go. "You're such an idiot," I choked out. "Such a stupid, stubborn idiot."
"I know," he whispered. "I know."
We stood there for a while, wrapped up in each other in that dark, narrow alley, until my tears slowed and my breathing evened out. When I finally pulled back, I looked up at him, my vision still blurred, and I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand.
"Listen to me," I said, my voice steadier now. "I'm hiring you. As my tutor. Physics, math, chemistry—whatever you want. I'll pay you $50 an hour, three hours a day, five days a week. That's $750 a week."
He opened his mouth to protest, but I pressed my fingers against his lips.
"And I know what you're going to say—that it's not enough for the deposit. You said you needed the money in two weeks, right? For Lily's cochlear implant deposit?" I took a breath, my heart pounding. "So here's what we're doing. I'll transfer $10,000 to your account tonight. That should cover the deposit and give you some buffer. Then you work it off through tutoring. At $750 a week, it'll take you about fourteen weeks to pay me back. And when you graduate, when you get your fancy job at MIT or wherever, you can pay me the rest with interest if you want."