Chapter 27
Summer's POV
First period was math, which I could barely focus on. The teacher was explaining something about polynomial functions, but all I could think about was the meeting with Kieran. Would he actually show up? What if he looked at my work and realized I was hopeless?
The clock on the wall seemed to move in slow motion.
When the bell finally rang for morning break, I practically jumped out of my seat. Mia gave me an encouraging thumbs-up as I rushed past her desk.
The Science Wing was quieter than the main building, all polished floors and the faint smell of chemicals. I found the physics lab on the second floor, its door propped open. Inside, a few students were working on experiments, but I didn't see Kieran.
I checked my phone. 10:47 a.m. He'd said morning break. This was morning break.
I waited by one of the lab benches, setting my textbook down and trying to look casual. A couple of students glanced at me curiously, but no one said anything.
10:50.
10:52.
By 10:55, my stomach was sinking. Maybe he'd forgotten. Maybe he'd never actually planned to show up. Maybe I'd misread the whole thing and he'd just said "fine" to get me to leave him alone.
I was about to give up and head back to class when I noticed something tucked under the corner of my physics textbook.
A folded piece of paper.
My hands trembled slightly as I picked it up and unfolded it.
Inside was Kieran's handwriting—clean, precise, left-handed. At the top of the page was today's date, and below that, a complete solution to every single problem on the physics assignment. Not just answers, but full step-by-step breakdowns: force diagrams, formula derivations, calculation notes. He'd even drawn little arrows and annotations where he thought I might get confused.
At the bottom, in slightly messier script, was a note:
This should help. I had an emergency training session this morning so I couldn't meet you. Sorry.
No signature. No explanation. Just that.
I stared at the paper for a long time, my throat tight. He'd done this. He'd sat down—probably late last night, or early this morning—and worked through every single problem, writing out solutions with his injured left hand, just so I wouldn't be lost.
And he'd apologized for not being able to meet me.
He remembered, I thought, my chest aching. He remembered I said I didn't want to look stupid in front of him. So he made sure I'd have what I needed, even if he couldn't be here.
I carefully folded the paper and slipped it into my bag, right next to the pink cat lock that matched his.
---
The rest of the day passed in a blur. I went to my classes, took notes, pretended to pay attention. But my mind kept circling back to that note, to Kieran's careful handwriting, to the thought of him staying up late to help me even though he didn't have to.
At lunch, Mia asked how the meeting went, and I told her the truth—that he hadn't shown up, but he'd left me solutions instead.
Her eyes went wide. "He wrote out the entire problem set for you?"
"Yeah."
"Summer. Do you know how insane that is? Physics competition kids don't share their work with anyone. They guard their notes like state secrets."
I bit my lip. "Maybe he just felt obligated because I gave him the locker."
"No." Mia shook her head firmly. "That's not how Kieran works. I've heard Logan Park complain about how he won't even explain solutions to his own teammates. If he did this for you, it's because he wanted to."
My heart did a complicated flip. "Really?"
"Really." She grinned. "I told you. He's different with you."
I didn't know what to say to that. So I just took another bite of my sandwich and tried to ignore the warmth spreading through my chest.
---
I didn't see Kieran for the rest of the day. Not during afternoon classes, not in the hallways, not anywhere. By the time the final bell rang, I was starting to wonder if he was avoiding me on purpose.
I packed up my things slowly, my eyes drifting to his empty seat one more time. Then I pulled out the note and read it again, tracing the neat lines of his handwriting with my fingertip.
Sorry.
Kieran Cross had apologized to me. Kieran, who never explained himself to anyone, who kept everyone at arm's length, had taken the time to write me a note and say he was sorry for missing our meeting.
That had to mean something.
I folded the note carefully and slipped it back into my bag. Tomorrow, I decided. Tomorrow I'd find him and thank him properly. Tomorrow I'd make sure he knew that what he'd done mattered.
That he mattered.