14.

☆☆SUMMER'S POV☆☆

I shot up from the couch like my ass was on fire. My heartbeat still hadn’t caught up with my brain.

“I thought you’d, like, talk crap about him or something,” Keith called after me as I bolted upstairs.

I ignored him. No time for drama commentary. Crisis mode activated.

My room looked like a hurricane had hired an interior designer to help redesign it. I yanked on the nearest pair of joggers from the closet—probably clean, maybe not—and grabbed my hoodie on the floor without checking if it was inside-out. Spoiler alert: it was.

Phone. Where’s my phone? Oh— Got it. I grabbed it and ran out of the room.

My cell phone buzzed just as I nearly tripped on the hallway rug. Jake.

I answered before the second ring. “Hey.”

“Got my text? I sent it like… thirty minutes ago.”

Shit.

“I overslept,” I hid the panic in my voice, even though I was scrambling like a rat in a cereal box.

“Well, Seeping beauty, meet me at our spot.”

“Right now?”

“Yes. Right now,” Jake answered. “I’m waiting.”

He hung up. I ran down the stairs. Turned to Keith who was watching me as if he was watching a class he wasn’t sure he signed up for. Uninterested and vaguely intrigued all at once.

That’s what you get for spilling such hot gossip to your sister at 9:45 in the morning.

“Where to?”

“I’ll be back,” I muttered, already halfway to the door.

Dad reappeared in the living room after his phone calls. He looked up just as I grabbed the doorknob, probably wondering why one kid was staring into space and the other was dressed like a raccoon fleeing the scene of a crime.

“Dad, going to meet Jake at our spot!” I yelled  over my shoulder as I opened the door. “I’ll have breakfast when I’m back!”

“Okay, Bunny. Be careful,” he called back, right as Keith walked up to greet him.

Then I heard him beckoning Keith to give him a hug. Keith shied away, but Dad pulled him in anyway, ruffling his dark brown hair.

“Dad, I’m not a child,” Keith grumbled, his cheek pressed on Dad’s chest.

Cute! Dad only laughed.

Meanwhile, I sprinted to the garage and yanked my bike out like it owed me something. I’d ridden this bad boy for the last seven years. One sticker peeled off the side, giving it character. 

It was still as sturdy as it was when Dad gave it to me as a present for my eleventh birthday. Bright red. Still rode like a dream, though.

I rode out the driveway and down the street. I couldn’t stop shaking. Not from the cold morning air or the dew clinging to my bike seat, but from everything Hayden said last night. Every word still echoed in my ears like a haunting refrain.

I pedaled hard. Faster than necessary. My thoughts were louder than the wind slapping my face.

Hayden’s voice was still clawing at the back of my mind.

“You’re not a mistake I’m allowed to make.”

But getting expelled? Dude! How’d you even make that one mistake?

I doubled my pace, riding down until I reached the bridge. Saunterville was a peaceful town. Filled with rich folks, and snotty kids. By this time of the morning, it was as quiet as a graveyard and no cars were riding down the main road cutting through the woods.

At least, that’s what I thought until I heard a horn behind me. I drifted to the side of the road. The horn blared again. I wasn’t in the way, so I didn’t respond.

The horn blared once more. Okay, what the hell? That was annoying. I glanced over my shoulder and instantly regretted it.

The car was a convertible I’d recognize anywhere. Red. Flashy. Obnoxious. Like a midlife crisis with glitter.

Behind the wheel was Henry—Dean’s rugby-obsessed sidekick. A golden retriever with a driver’s license and half a brain. I wondered how he was able to graduate with us.

I’m still not convinced he can read. 

And in the passenger seat? Maxine. Of course. She owned the car. She had her legs up on the dashboard like she owned the highway and the world as well.

Her sunglasses were too big for her face, her hair too perfect for this hour. It blew around her like she was in a Shampoo Commercial: Villain Edition.

And in the backseat was the blonde-haired temptress herself, Merissa, who I hadn’t seen all summer long. She looked fresh off a vacation, and Maxine probably offered to play chauffeur for the airport photo op. They were friends. Both cheerleaders.

Not such good friends, though. I’d heard Merissa say nasty things about Maxine behind her back—and Maxine didn’t hold back either. She always returned the favor with extra spice. Friends with tongues sharper than their brains.

Merissa leaned forward from the backseat, eyes locked on me like a wolf spotting something it was bored enough to hunt. Fantastic.

Whatever this was, it wasn’t casual. Jake better have answers—because I might not make it to him in one piece.

“Look who it is,” Merissa drawled, her voice sugar-coated poison. “Summer Sunshine. The quirky little bitch of Saunterville High.”

“What are the odds of seeing her this fine morning, Merry?” Maxine said. She half turned to  Merissa. “Probably promising an ugly day, don’t you think?”

Merissa chuckeled. I didn’t have time for this, so I didn’t respond. I just gripped the handlebars tighter and kept riding. 

“Hey, slow down,” Maxine told Henry.

The car slowed to match my speed. Henry revved the engine like it was flirting with me. Maxine leaned out the window, her smirk widening.

“You riding that old bike again?” she asked sweetly. “Did your little boyfriend, Jake, forget to pick you up?”

My jaw clenched. Not today. Not with this heat in my chest. Not when everything already felt like it was falling apart.

The car crept beside me another second, like they were waiting to see if I’d crack. I didn’t. I stared straight ahead. Tunnel vision. Jake. The spot. Answers. That was all I was interested in.

Suddenly, Henry swerved toward me, causing me to plunge down the steep side of the road. My bike jolted over a rock, and the world tipped sideways. I hit the grass hard—air punched from my lungs, elbow scraped raw.

They stopped, looked back at me and laughed. But just before they sped off, Maxine leaned out one last time.

“Careful where you ride, Summer,” she called, voice sing-song and venomous. “You never know who’s behind you.”

Then the car peeled away, tires screeching like they’d left a scar on the pavement—and maybe a little one on me, too.

“Bitch!” I screamed, still on the ground.

The wind carried on the sounds of their laughter, pricking my skin like thorns. I exhaled. Shaky and cold. I got up, dusted off my knees, rolled my sleeves to check my elbow. Bloody hell.

Thank goodness it wasn’t that serious. Then I wheeled the bike back up to the road, and climbed on. My phone buzzed again just before I started to pedal.

“Where are you?”