Chapter 23
Summer's POV
The words hit me like a slap.
Mia made a small, furious sound beside me, but I couldn't look at her. I couldn't look away from Evan's face—from the complete lack of understanding there, the genuine belief that he'd done me some kind of favor.
"You think you made me better," I said quietly.
"I mean—yeah. Look at you now compared to freshman year. You're gorgeous. Everyone wants to be you." He smiled, like he expected me to thank him. "I'm just saying, maybe don't throw away everything we built together because you're mad about some stupid drama that doesn't even matter anymore."
"Doesn't matter." I heard my voice like it was coming from very far away. "You think it doesn't matter that I starved myself for a year because you kept making comments about how I should 'watch what I eat'? That I threw up in the bathroom after lunch because I was so terrified of gaining weight? That I still can't look at pictures from Homecoming without wanting to cry?"
"That's not—I never told you to do that—"
"You didn't have to. You just had to stand there and smile while Blake made pig noises when I walked past. You just had to 'forget' to save me a seat at your birthday party. You just had to say 'you look really pretty today' only on days when I hadn't eaten anything." My voice was rising now, carrying down the hallway, and I didn't care. "You want to know what you actually did for me, Evan? You taught me that my worth was measured in pounds lost and calories skipped and how small I could make myself to fit into your perfect picture."
"Jesus, Summer, I was trying to help you be your best self—"
"My best self?" I laughed, sharp and bitter. "My best self is the one who doesn't need you anymore. The one who eats lunch with real friends. The one who sits next to someone in Physics who doesn't make me feel like I have to earn the right to exist in the same space."
His face was red now, that careful charm completely gone. "So that's what this is about? That scholarship kid? The one from Southie with the fucked-up hand? You're throwing away everything we have for some charity case who probably can't even afford to take you on a real date?"
"Don't talk about him."
"Why not? It's true, isn't it? You think he actually cares about you, or is he just hoping you'll bankroll his sad little life?" Evan's voice had taken on a cruel edge I'd heard him use with other people but never with me. "Come on, Summer. You're smarter than this. Guys like him don't end up with girls like you. He's using you."
"The only person who's been using me," I said clearly, "is standing right in front of me."
The hallway had gone quiet. I could feel eyes on us, could hear the whispers starting, but I didn't care anymore.
I turned to leave, and his hand shot out, catching my wrist.
"Summer, wait—"
"Let go of me."
"Just listen for a second—"
"I said let go."
Mia stepped forward, her whole body trembling but her voice somehow steady, her face flushed bright red. "She told you to let go. Are you going to, or do I need to get a teacher?"
Evan's eyes cut to her, and his lip curled with disgust. "What are you, her bodyguard now? Stay out of this, you little nobody. Go back to whatever thrift store you crawled out of."
The color drained from Mia's face. She took a half-step back, her moment of courage crumbling, and I felt something hot and vicious rise in my chest—but before I could speak, movement at the end of the hallway caught my eye.
Kieran.
He was standing in the shadow near the stairwell, perfectly still, but I could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw was set, the dark intensity of his gaze fixed on Evan's hand wrapped around my wrist. He'd been watching. He'd heard everything. And the look on his face made my stomach drop—not anger, not jealousy, but something worse. Resignation. Like he was watching something he'd expected all along, like he was already turning away in his mind even though his feet hadn't moved.
Panic flooded through me, sharp and immediate. He was going to think I'd gone back to Evan. He was going to think I was just another rich girl playing games, slumming it with the scholarship kid for entertainment. He was going to walk away and I'd never get the chance to explain—
I shoved Evan's chest hard, breaking his grip on my wrist. "Get your hands off me."
"Summer—"
"I said get off!" The words came out louder than I intended, echoing down the hallway. "And don't you ever—ever—talk to my friend like that again. Mia is worth ten of you, Evan. She's kind and she's real and she doesn't measure people's value by their fucking zip code or their parents' bank account." My voice was shaking now, but not with fear. With rage. "You want to know what makes someone a nobody? It's standing by while your friends tear someone down. It's making a girl hate herself so much she stops eating. It's being so goddamn shallow that you can't see past a person's clothes or their address or whether they can afford to impress you."
Evan's face had gone from red to white. "You're making a scene—"
"Good. Let everyone hear this. You don't get to treat people like garbage and then act like you're doing them a favor. You don't get to put your hands on me when I tell you we're done. And you sure as hell don't get to insult my friends." I stepped closer to him, and something in my expression made him take a step back. "We're done, Evan. We were never really together in the first place—you made sure of that—but whatever this was, it's over. Don't come near me or Mia again."
The hallway was dead silent now. Even the whispers had stopped. Everyone was staring—at me, at Evan, at Mia who was looking at me with wide, shining eyes—but I didn't care anymore. I only cared about the figure at the end of the hall, the one who was still standing there, still watching, and I needed him to understand that this wasn't what it looked like, that I meant every word I'd just said.
Evan opened his mouth, closed it, then turned and walked away without another word. The crowd parted for him automatically, and I heard the murmurs start up again as soon as he was gone, but I was already turning toward the stairwell.
Kieran was still there. He hadn't moved. But as I started toward him, Mia's small hand caught my sleeve.
"Summer." Her voice was thick, and when I looked at her, I saw tears on her cheeks—but she was smiling. "Thank you. No one's ever—I mean, you didn't have to—"
"Yes, I did." I squeezed her hand quickly. "I'll meet you in Physics, okay? I just need to—"
"Go." She gave me a little push, her smile widening even as she wiped at her eyes. "I'll save you a seat."