7.

☆☆SUMMER'S POV☆☆

I stood up abruptly, folding my arms. Jake rose too, stepping between me and Maxine. I mean, she came to the party—I got no problem with that. But standing in front of me like that? Yeah. She wanted a fight. And I wss ready to give it to her.

I shoved Jake aside.

“Hello, Maxine. Hello, Dean.”

Dean Polanski—proof that evolution sometimes takes a break.

“Hello, Summer,” Maxine chirped.

“Hey,” Dean smiled.

The silence stretched for what felt like an eternity. Only our eyes did the talking. I waited for Maxine to spit her usual nonsense so I could shove it up her ass.

“We just came to say hi,” Dean said, his lips trailing along Maxine’s neck.

A sudden heat flared inside me—sharp, wild, and unrelenting. I didn’t even know exactly why I was so furious. I just knew I couldn’t believe I had ever loved such a pathetic excuse for a boy.

“Well, you’ve said your greetings, so, BYE,” Jake said, grabbing my hand.

Maxine's eyes darted toward our interlocked hands and she scoffed. She unwrapped Dean’s arms around her waist, eyes fixated intently on me.

If looks could kill, I’d be dead. Her flowery scent enveloped me as she stepped into my personal space. Too freaking agitated to be this close to Maxine, I thought.

“I’m not one to give advice,” she started, “but Jake, I’m sure you can do better than Summer. Look at her, you’re way out of her league. Bitch got her braces off and dumped her glasses, then rose to being a mid. You can do better, Jake.”

This time, Jake shoved me aside.

“Okay, Maxine. Firstly, Summer is ten times more beautiful than you are. You’re a 4 at best, and she’s a solid 10 out of 10. And secondly, since you have the intellect of an underdeveloped fetus, you wouldn’t know Summer and I are best friends. But don’t worry—ignorance is the only consistent thing about you. That, and your walking red-flag energy.”

I choked back on my laughter. The colour of shame flushed through Maxine’s face. Her jaw clenched, trying to contain her fury.

“Don’t talk to my girlfriend that way,” Dean growled, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her to himself.

“Dean Polanski,” Jake sneered, “the walking disaster no one asked for. How’d you manage to scrape the bottom of the jerk barrel and still find a girlfriend uglier than your personality?”

Okay! My best friend was on fire. Ouch. This time I couldn’t hold it back, a laugh slipped out of my mouth.

Maxine arched her brow, her gaze prickling my skin. But I didn’t care.

“I suggest you both leave. Now,” Jake commanded. 

“It’s obvious you don’t take advice,” Maxine spat, voice dripping with venom. She placed her hand on Dean’s chest. “Come on, babe. Let’s go.”

They left. The walk of shame.

Jake and I burst into laughter.

“You murdered them. Ate that shit up without leaving crumbs,” I commended as we sank back into the couch.

“She deserved it. No one talks about my best friend like that to my face,” said Jake. Then almost to himself he muttered, “I’d do anything for you.”

My smile faded. For the first time, those words hit differently. I didn’t know if it was because of the tone he said it in or the look in his blue eyes that resembled that of Hayden, but it just felt… different.

Jake laughed it off, and I joined in, a little too nervously. Across the room, my eyes locked on Hayden, leaning casually against the wall. A girl was standing in front of him, talking, probably flirting. But He wasn’t looking at her. He was looking at me.

My heart fluttered. And I hated that it did.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

(Two days later)

…….....

Alderidge University.

Upstate New York.

Founded 1886.

I stared at the words on my computer screen longer than I should have. Two weeks. That’s all Jake and I had before moving to New York. Two weeks to leave California—and leave Hayden behind.

We both got into the same university. Lucky, I guess. Not to brag, but my essays were pretty good. I was a straight-A student, so I earned a scholarship.

Jake planned to study psychology. I was going for neuroscience. In high school, I hated having to bury my head in books all the time, but that didn’t stop me from having fun with Jake or hanging out with him.

“I guess it all paid off,” I whispered.

My dad was over the moon when I got the acceptance letter. I looked over at Mom’s picture next to my computer. I missed her every day—especially now, when I didn’t understand what was wrong with my brain and heart.

“Summer, I’m going to the library,” Keith said, barging into my room without knocking.

“What does the sign on the door say?” I asked.

Keith peeked at the door. “It says the goblin named Summer lives here,” he said, deadpan.

“Hey! When I was your age, I had so much respect for my elders,” I said, adjusting my glasses.

Keith kicked the door wide open and folded his arms, glaring at me. “When you were my age? I’m thirteen. What are you now? Grandma?”

“I’m telling Dad you’re going to the skating rink again.”

Keith in a library? Yeah, right. Probably when elephants fly. His hazel eyes bored into mine. His lips pressed tight.

“You wouldn’t,” he dared.

“Try me.”

We stared each other down, waiting to see who’d look away first. I wasn’t about to lose to my annoying little brother.

“Fine,” Keith said, finally looking away. “Whatever. I’ll be back by nine.”

“Six.”

“Eight.”

I heard his footsteps going down the stairs. He was never home early when he went skating.

“Be safe. I love you.”

“Gross!” Keith yelled.

I chuckled and turned back to my mom’s photo frame on the desk. I picked it up, my fingers trembling slightly as they traced the outline of her face—the softness I’d never forget, even years later.

She died when I was seven. Pancreatic cancer. I wished the universe hadn’t taken her. Tears rolled down my cheeks. I hugged the picture, pretending I was hugging her.

I stayed home today to study because Jake and his family went to visit a family friend. Then Agnes dropped by. She knocked, and I ran down to open the door.

“Surprise!” she yelled with a smile.

“Bitch! I invited you.”

We laughed, and I pulled her inside. We went to my room. As we sat on my bed, painting each other’s toenails, Agnes cleared her throat—her usual warning before spilling hot gossip.

“Remember Merissa?”

Merissa Kennedy. The blonde-haired temptress who sat behind me in seventh grade. How could I forget? She once ate my favorite pink eraser and spit the pieces in my face.

“I remember,” I said.

“You know her family’s loaded. They own the hotel where Jake and his family are having dinner tonight.”

“Wait! They’re having dinner? At the Halcyon hotel?”

Agnes nodded. But Jake told me they were visiting a family friend.

“They made reservations for tonight,” Agnes said. “Merissa told Jenny, Dave, Bertha, Linda, and King, who told Sydney, Elori, Mary the reporter, then Dean, who spilled the gossip to Maxine—the hoe—who told Penn, Paris, Samantha, and Alien John, who finally told me.” She paused, releasing a heavy breath. “That Hayden’s getting betrothed to Diana De Morven.”

Bite me.

“Hayden’s getting what?”

“Betrothed. To Diana.”

Diana De Morven. Only daughter of one of California’s richest families. I met her once at The Dylan’s mansion three years ago. Total snob.

I laughed softly. “That’s a joke, right?”

My laughter died when Agnes shook her head.

“Merissa knows Diana. She’s friends with Merissa’s big sister, Mindy. You remember her, cutie with short blonde hair? It’s legit news. Didn’t Jake tell you?”

Hell no. He didn’t.

My heart dropped.