Chapter 56
Summer's POV
The first Monday back from Thanksgiving break hit like a cold slap of reality.
I stood at my locker, fumbling with the combination lock while my stomach churned with equal parts anticipation and dread. The hallways of St. Jude's buzzed with the usual post-holiday energy—girls comparing Black Friday hauls, guys rehashing football games—but all I could focus on was the fact that I'd see Kieran today. After four days apart. After that afternoon at Dunkin' when I'd accidentally signed I like you and we'd both pretended it didn't shatter something between us.
My fingers slipped on the dial. Damn it.
"Summer!" Mia appeared at my elbow, her short hair slightly damp from the November drizzle. "You okay? You look like you're about to throw up."
"I'm fine." I yanked the locker open too hard and nearly dropped my physics textbook. "Just tired."
She gave me that look—the one that said she knew I was lying but wouldn't push. "Well, wake up fast. Thompson posted the mid-term placement test seating chart outside homeroom, and people are losing their minds."
My heart dropped. "Already?"
"Yep. And guess what? You're in Lab Building 3, room 309." She leaned closer, lowering her voice. "Seat 28. Which isn't terrible, by the way. It's mixed seating, not purely ranked by grades."
I exhaled slowly, gripping my locker door. Seat 28. Not the worst, but definitely not good enough to hide the fact that I was still struggling in physics despite all of Kieran's notes and explanations. The thought of sitting in that exam room, surrounded by people who actually understood torque and momentum, made my palms sweat.
"And guess what, Kieran's in 309 too, right at seat 36!" Mia added, her eyes twinkling with something I couldn't quite read.
My breath caught. "What? But he's a competition student. Why would he—"
"Apparently all scholarship kids have to maintain regular class status, even if they're in the advanced track. Coach Anderson probably wants him to prove he's not just a test-taking robot." She nudged my shoulder. "Silver lining? You get to stare at the back of his head for two hours."
Heat flooded my cheeks. "I don't—"
"Sure you don't." She was already walking away, laughing. "See you at lunch, lovesick girl!"
I pressed my forehead against the cool metal of my locker, trying to calm my racing heart. Kieran would be there. In the same room. Taking the same test. And I'd be sitting there, struggling through problems he could solve in his sleep, probably making a complete fool of myself.
God, what if he thought I was pathetic?
---
First period dragged. Ms. Peterson spent the entire class waxing poetic about Pride and Prejudice and how Darcy's love for Elizabeth was "the kind that changes you from the inside out." Normally I'd find it charming, but today every word felt like a spotlight on my own confused feelings.
You held his hand. You learned sign language for his sister. You accidentally told him you liked him and then laughed it off like it was nothing.
I doodled in the margins of my notebook—small hearts, then angry scribbles over them. This was ridiculous. I barely knew him. We'd had, what, a handful of real conversations? Shared some fries and donuts? That didn't mean anything.
Except it did. It meant everything.
Because when I'd touched his scars and he'd let me, when I'd seen the way he looked at Lily with such fierce protectiveness, when he'd laughed—actually laughed—at my terrible sign language mistake... something had cracked open inside me. Something I couldn't shove back down no matter how hard I tried.
The bell rang. I packed up slowly, trying to steel myself for what came next.
---
Lunch period. I sat with Mia at our usual spot near the windows, picking at a Caesar salad I had no appetite for. She was in the middle of telling me about her flute practice when I felt it—that prickle on the back of my neck that meant someone was watching.
I turned, scanning the cafeteria. My gaze snagged on the faculty entrance just as a familiar dark-haired figure slipped through, shoulders hunched, backpack slung over one arm.
Kieran.
He didn't look my way. Didn't even glance in my direction. Just made a beeline for the reduced-price lunch line, his expression carefully blank.
My chest tightened. I'd texted him twice over break—just casual stuff, asking if he was okay, if Lily liked the Charlie Card—but he'd only responded once with a terse We're fine. Thanks. No emoji. No follow-up questions. Just... polite distance.
"Earth to Summer." Mia waved a hand in front of my face. "You're doing it again."
"Doing what?"
"Staring at him like he's a physics problem you can't solve." She followed my gaze, then sighed. "You know, for someone who swears they're 'just friends,' you sure spend a lot of time looking like you want to climb him like a tree."
"Mia!"
"What? I'm just saying." She stabbed at her pasta primavera. "Maybe you should, I don't know, actually talk to him? Instead of telepathically willing him to notice you?"
I bit my lip, watching Kieran accept a wrapped sandwich and a bottle of water from the lunch lady. His right hand stayed tucked against his side, the sleeve of his hoodie pulled down to cover the scars. Something about the careful way he moved—like he was trying to take up as little space as possible—made my throat ache.
"I can't," I whispered. "Not here. Not with everyone watching."
"Then when?"
Good question.
---
The rest of the day blurred together. Chemistry, where I nearly set my beaker on fire. Calculus, where I doodled Kieran's name in the margins before frantically scribbling it out. By the time the final bell rang, I was exhausted from the sheer effort of pretending everything was normal.
I took my time at my locker, hoping maybe—just maybe—Kieran would stop by his on the way out. But when I finally worked up the courage to glance down the hallway, his locker was already closed, and he was gone.
Of course he was.
I slammed my locker shut harder than necessary, earning a few curious looks from passing students. Whatever. Let them stare.
"Hey, Summer!"
I turned to find Ava Davis jogging up to me, her perfectly curled blonde hair bouncing with each step. Great. Just what I needed.
"Hi, Ava." I forced a smile.
"So, I heard you're taking the physics placement test on Thursday?" She leaned against the locker next to mine, eyes sparkling with false sympathy. "That's so brave of you. I mean, after switching to the science track and everything. Must be really hard."
Translation: Everyone knows you're struggling, and we're all waiting to see you fail.
"I'm managing," I said coolly.
"Well, if you need any help..." She trailed off, clearly not meaning it. "Oh! Speaking of which, did you hear about Kieran Cross? Apparently he's taking the test too, even though he's basically guaranteed a spot at MIT. Seems like overkill, right?"