Chapter 204
Summer's POV
The email notification lit up my phone screen just as I was about to close my laptop for the night. I'd been lying on my bed, pretending to review calculus notes but actually scrolling through nothing in particular. The king-size mattress felt too big, the silk sheets too smooth against my skin. Sometimes I wondered if luxury made loneliness more obvious—though lately, it had gotten better. The panic attacks that followed the Mason incident had dulled from a scream to a whisper, and Kieran's steady presence in my life had a lot to do with that. Still, on nights like this, when the brownstone was too quiet and the shadows stretched a little too long, I could feel the echo of that day pressing against my ribs.
Subject: Fall Music Concert Invitation
My heart did a little jump. Ms. Robertson's name glowed in the sender field. I sat up, cross-legged, and clicked it open.
Dear Summer,
I hope this email finds you well. I'm writing to invite you to perform at our Fall Music Concert in early November, scheduled for the Friday following midterm exams. I believe a collaborative piece would showcase your talents beautifully, and I'd like to suggest partnering with Mia Harper from our orchestra. She's an excellent flutist, and I think Poulenc's Flute and Piano Sonata would be a wonderful fit for both of you.
Please let me know your thoughts at your earliest convenience.
Best regards,
Eleanor Robertson
I stared at the screen, chewing my lip. The national piano competition was barely two weeks away, and I'd been pouring every spare hour into my solo repertoire. Adding a chamber piece on top of that felt like juggling chainsaws. But the Fall Concert was a completely different beast—a chance to play with Mia, to do something collaborative instead of being alone under a spotlight. And it wasn't until November; I'd have time to breathe after nationals before diving in.
I didn't deliberate much longer before I was screenshotting the entire thing. My fingers flew across the keyboard, pulling up Mia's contact. "OMG look what Ms. Robertson just sent me! Are you free to practice together? (After nationals, obviously 😅)"
The three dots appeared almost instantly. Mia was clearly still awake too.
"YES!! I've been waiting for this! 🎶 And you're going to CRUSH nationals first, don't even worry."
I grinned at my phone like an idiot. There was something about Mia's enthusiasm that made everything feel lighter. More possible. Almost on instinct, I switched to Kieran's chat and typed: "Guess who just got invited to the Fall Concert? 🎹" I added a heart emoji before I could overthink it. Things between us were still so new—the memory of that kiss, the way he'd said I love you like it was the simplest truth in the world—it all made my stomach flutter every time I let myself think about it.
His reply came a minute later: "That's amazing. You deserve it. ❤️"
I pressed my phone against my chest like a lovesick idiot and smiled at the ceiling.
Then I switched back to Mia. "Come over this weekend?" I typed. "We can try on dresses for the concert and just... hang out."
"Sleepover?" she replied.
"Absolutely. 💕"
I tossed my phone onto the pillow beside me and flopped back against the headboard. Outside my window, Back Bay glittered with lights. Beacon Street stretched out below, lined with identical brownstones, each one probably worth more than most people made in a decade. The view was beautiful. It was also isolating. Sometimes I felt like I was living in a snow globe—everything perfect and preserved and completely separate from the real world.
But things were different now. Kieran was real. Mia was real. And this weekend, for once, I could just be a normal girl having a normal sleepover with her friend—without the weight of Mason's shadow or the ache of doing everything alone.
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Mia and I met up at AMC Loews to catch some Pixar movie that had been hyped to death. I couldn't even remember the title now.
"That plot twist was so predictable," Mia whispered as we filed out of the theater. She was wearing her favorite denim jacket, the one with pins from every museum she'd ever visited.
"Totally," I agreed, even though I'd barely paid attention to the movie. My mind kept drifting to Kieran—the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed during our tutoring sessions, the warmth of his hand when he reached for mine under the table, the quiet way he'd text me good morning every day. I still couldn't believe he was mine. Part of me kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for something to shatter it—a reflex, maybe, left over from everything that had happened with Mason. But then I'd remember Kieran's voice, steady and sure, saying I love you, and the fear would loosen its grip, just a little.