6.

☆☆SUMMER'S POV☆☆

Pinch me.

No. Slap me. I need to wake up. What the fuck did Agnes Culkin just say to me?

“Wh–what?” I croaked.

“I was in Jake's room. When I heard footsteps, I hid under his bed.”

My blood ran cold, and I froze in disbelief. I searched for what lie to tell, what words to say, but even words eluded me at this point.

I was on my own. What the hell do I say? 

“I’m certain it was you. I heard your voice and I heard Jake's. But before that, I saw someone else enter the room. He joined you in the bathroom.”

Agnes wore that thoughtful expression of hers, eyes gazing into nothing, her index finger pinned to her jaw. The music faded, and I could hear her clearly now. Then she chuckled and nudged my arm lightly.

“I may be wrong, though. It could’ve been any other guy, right?”

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding as relief washed over me. A nervous laugh escaped from my lips. I stared at her, nodding instinctively. 

“Yeah. You’re totally wrong.”

“I mean, I am aware that I'm high, so I could have made a mistake,” she continued. “Especially since John had his tongue down my throat. Dude was drawing my life essence.”

My ears perked.

“What?”

Agnes laughed like a hyena. I didn't even realize she was as high as a kite until now. Thank goodness. I didn't have to worry about her discovering Hayden and me.

“Yes,” she said, holding back her laughter. “I was in Jake's room, making out with John.”

“John? Hot John? Or Alien John?”

“You know. The John.”

We had two Johns in our class. One was John Andrew from English, so we nicknamed him “The John” or “Hot John.” He played rugby and loved to make chemistry with girls.

The other John was John Rowan from Science. He was… a regular nerd who talked about alien invasions and conspiracy theories like it was his personal mission to warn humanity about the things we couldn't see. So we called him “Alien John” or “John.”

“Wait! Hot John was making out with you?” I asked, surprised.

Agnes nodded many times. I thought her head might fall off if she continued nodding. So, I gave her a little shake to make her stop. She just laughed and lazily rested her head on my shoulder.

Yup, high as a kite.

One hundred bucks, I bet she wouldn’t remember anything from tonight. I truly had nothing to worry about. Agnes looked up at me, her eyes misty.

“Hot John was hiding under the bed too.”

“Shut up! Hot John was hiding under the bed with you?”

“Mmhmm. We left as soon as Jake was out of the room. Before we headed upstairs, he said I looked beautiful tonight.”

“You look beautiful everyday, Agnes.”

“But when we were alone and he turned on the lights, he said I looked like a rainbow threw up on me. That he was blinded by drugs and everything was dark. So, he ditched me in the hallway.”

Agnes was a freckled, red-haired beauty. John Andrew was a douche. He didn't deserve her. Agnes had dated more than I ever had.

Three to be exact. They were all nerds, but now she was single and ready to mingle. John was probably wrong for her. Definitely wrong for her.

“You look like a princess, Agy,” I said softly, despite the ache in my chest. “What John said was a compliment. You're colourful because you're cheerful. The rainbow only touches beautiful things. And that's what you are. A beautiful thing. And he’s an awful thing.”

A smile curled up Agnes's lips. She crossed her legs on the couch and laid her head on my thighs, her eyes fluttering like she was about to drift into deep sleep.

“Summer, are you seeing someone new?”

I tittered. “No, I'm not. Are you seeing Hot John now?”

Agnes chortled. “No, I'm not. He's a jerk.”

“That's my girl,” I said, smiling.

Then Agnes fell asleep. I just sat there, brushing her hair out of her face, wondering how close I’d come to being caught.

Hayden had disappeared again. Jake was working the room, making sure the party didn’t collapse into chaos. Then he showed up and sat down beside me.

“Agnes Culkin, the social butterfly, has returned to her cocoon,” said Jake.

“The social butterfly. That’s cute,” I said, smiling. But it didn’t quite reach my eyes. “How's she able to sleep through all this noise?”

Jake shrugged.

Suddenly, Agnes's eyes snapped open. She glared at me like I'd grown a second head. Then rolled her eyes toward Jake.

“I need a drink,” she blurted out.

“You were literally just asleep” I said.

She sat up in a rush, blinking. “Where am I? Oh, wait, I remember. No… I don't think I do.”

“We're at Jake's party,” I reminded her.

“Ohhh!” Agnes exclaimed, as if everything suddenly clicked. But I doubted it.

She threw her hands in the air like she didn't care. “Fuck the drink. I'm going to dance!”

Then she bolted out of the house, screaming at the top of lungs. Jake heaved a sigh of relief beside me. I noticed the slight change in his demeanor.

“Are you having fun?” he asked, faking a smile.

“Fun is overrated.”

I'd known him too long not to notice when something was bothering him. His smile felt too tight and forced. His eyes dart around aimlessly and never settled on me. That was Jake's dead giveaway.

“Something's wrong. What is it?”

He shook his head, his lips stretching wider into that pretend grin. “It's nothing.”

But my suspicions pressed into the back of my mind, searing through my fucking guilt like wild fire.

He knows.

He's on your tail, Summer. Jake probably knows about you and Hayden.

A lump formed in my throat. It felt as if air had been knocked out of my lungs. I scanned the room.

Sweaty bodies everywhere. People danced to rap music like it was a love song. Couples in the corners, eating each other’s faces. Others lounged around drinking and smoking without a care.

But no Hayden. No Hayden anywhere.

“I'm sorry,” Jake finally said. “Please, don’t get mad.”

“What are you sorry for?” I managed, forcing the words past the lump rising in my throat.

I doubt this was about Hayden. If it were, Jake wouldn't be apologising to me. He’d most likely be as cold as winter ice, sharpening his teeth on my bones.

“I didn't invite him,” Jake said. “I didn't invite either of them. John Andrew did. What an idiot.”

What was he talking about? Invited who? 

Just then, a silhouette appeared from nowhere, cutting through the light like a shadow of disruption, towering in front of me like a mountain.

I turned my head from Jake. And lo and fucking behold… Dean Polanski, my fucking ex. 

With his arms snaked around his serpentine girlfriend, Maxine. Fucking. Quinton. 

Her smile curled like a crescent moon.

“Look who it is, babe,” she cooed, her voice fake sweet. “It’s Summer.”

I took in a deep breath and exhaled.

Tonight, I’m gonna beat up a bitch.