Chapter 94
Summer's POV
Lunch period. The cafeteria was buzzing with speculation, everyone clustered in their usual groups but with an undercurrent of excitement that made my skin crawl. This was entertainment to them. Drama. Something to break up the monotony of another Thursday.
I sat with Mia at our usual table, pushing food around my plate without actually eating any of it.
"Summer." Mia's hand covered mine, stilling my restless fork. "You need to eat something."
"I'm not hungry."
"You haven't been hungry all week." Her voice was gentle but firm. "This isn't healthy."
"Neither is what they did to him." The words came out sharper than I intended, and I saw Mia flinch slightly. "Sorry. I just—"
"I know." She squeezed my hand. "But you can't fix this by starving yourself."
Couldn't I? It felt like the only thing I had control over right now—what went into my body, what I allowed myself to feel. Everything else was spinning out of my grasp.
Across the cafeteria, I could see a group of guys from the physics team. Logan was among them, looking tired and frustrated. Oliver sat next to him, scrolling through his phone with a bored expression.
Kieran wasn't there. Of course he wasn't. He'd probably gone back to eating alone in the physics classroom, or maybe the library. Somewhere away from the stares and whispers.
"I need to find him," I said suddenly, standing up so fast my chair scraped against the floor.
"Summer, wait—" Mia started, but I was already moving.
I made it halfway across the cafeteria before I heard the voices.
"—heard he got like sixty grand out of it."
"Seriously? For what, agreeing not to press charges?"
"That's what Blake said. His dad knows someone on the board."
I stopped walking. Turned slowly toward the source of the conversation—a table near the windows where Nathan and his friends usually held court.
"Sixty thousand for getting your ass kicked?" One of them laughed. "Not a bad deal, honestly."
"That's the thing though." Nathan leaned forward, voice dropping to a stage whisper that still carried across the room. "Tyler's dad said Cross started the whole thing. Set it up to look like self-defense so he could shake them down for money."
"No way."
"I'm serious. Think about it—kid from Southie, needs cash for his family. Perfect setup. Let Tyler 'attack' him, make sure there's witnesses, then threaten to go to the police unless they pay up."
My vision went red at the edges.
"And the school just let him get away with it?" someone asked skeptically.
"What were they gonna do? It's his word against Tyler's, and Cross had the injuries to back it up. Smart, actually. Fucked up, but smart."
I was moving before I consciously decided to. Crossed the remaining distance to their table in three strides, my physics textbook—thick, heavy, hardcover—clutched in both hands.
The sound it made when I slammed it down on their table was like a gunshot. Everyone within a ten-foot radius jumped. Nathan's water bottle tipped over, sending liquid across the surface toward his laptop.
"Shit!" He grabbed for his computer, barely saving it. "What the—"
"I have a question." My voice came out cold. Controlled. Nothing like the rage burning in my chest. "And I'd really appreciate an honest answer."
Nathan stared at me, water dripping off his sleeve. His friends had gone silent.
"If someone destroyed your entire future," I began, my voice steady despite the fury coursing through my veins, "invaded your privacy in the most disgusting way possible, did things that could ruin your life forever—and then offered you sixty thousand dollars to keep quiet about it—would you take the money? Would you be happy about it?"
"I—what?"
"Simple question, Nathan." I leaned forward slightly, let him see exactly how not-okay I was. "Would you consider yourself lucky? Would you think you'd won some kind of prize?"
"That's not—"
"Oh, but wait." I held up a finger, my hands trembling slightly. "Before they destroy your future, they should probably do something so vile, so invasive, that you can't even look at yourself in the mirror anymore. Something that makes you feel violated every single day. Something that could follow you for the rest of your life if it ever got out." I paused, letting the weight of my words sink in. "Then they'll beat you up. Then they'll pay you to shut up about all of it." I tilted my head. "Sound fair?"
The color had drained from Nathan's face. Around us, the cafeteria had gone quiet—not completely, but enough that people were definitely listening.
"Because that's what you're describing," I said, my voice rising slightly. "That's the 'deal' you think Kieran Cross got. He got blackmailed, assaulted, and humiliated in ways you can't even imagine. And then he got paid to pretend none of it happened. And you're sitting here acting like he's the one who came out ahead."
"Summer—" Mia's voice, somewhere behind me.
"Do you even know what he gave up?" I wasn't done. Couldn't stop now even if I wanted to. "Do you have any idea what losing his competition spot means? That was his ticket to MIT. His full scholarship. His entire future. And he traded it—for what? So Tyler Ashford could avoid consequences? So his family could save face?"
I looked around at all of them. Nathan. His friends. The growing audience of students who'd stopped eating to watch.
"Kieran Cross was blackmailed and assaulted," I repeated, slower this time. Making sure every word landed. "He had something taken from him that he can never get back. Something that makes that sixty thousand dollars look like nothing. And instead of getting justice, he got money and a warning on his record. But sure, keep telling yourselves he's the lucky one. Keep pretending you understand anything about his situation."
I picked up my textbook, held it against my chest like armor.
"You don't know him," I said quietly. "You don't know what he's been through, what he's dealing with, why he needed that money. You don't know what kind of person would do something so disgusting just to hurt someone they see as beneath them. You don't know anything. And you don't deserve to."
The silence that followed was thick enough to choke on. I could feel everyone staring—some shocked, some uncomfortable, a few nodding in agreement.
I turned and walked away. Made it three steps before Mia caught up with me, her hand gentle on my elbow.
"That was—" she started.
"Stupid," I finished. "I know."
"I was going to say brave." She smiled slightly. "Also maybe a little scary. But mostly brave."
I let out a shaky breath. The adrenaline was starting to fade, leaving behind the familiar hollow feeling. And something else—a creeping sense of dread. Had I said too much? Had I given them enough to start piecing things together?
"Do you think it helped?" I asked, my voice smaller now.
"I think—" Mia paused, choosing her words carefully. "I think you said what needed to be said. Whether it changes anyone's mind..." She shrugged. "That's up to them."
We walked in silence for a moment, heading toward the exit. My mind was racing, replaying what I'd just done. I'd been careful not to mention specifics, hadn't I? I'd kept it vague enough that no one could know for sure what Tyler had done. But the anger in my voice, the passion—had that given too much away?
"Summer?" Mia's voice was soft. "Why did he do it? Really?"
I thought about the videos. About Tyler's plan to frame Kieran. About the way Kieran had looked at me in the hospital, so determined to keep me out of it even if it meant destroying himself in the process. About how he'd sacrificed everything to make sure certain things stayed buried.
And I'd just stood up in front of half the school and made it clear that there was more to this story than anyone knew.
"I don't know," I lied, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. "But I need to see him."