4

SUMMER'S POV

The rest of the week went by so fast. I had to give George a detailed explanation of how I ended up in a stranger's bed. He would not stop budging me until I had explained myself. We promised to keep it a secret from Clyde. He would go overboard about it.

George has been my best friend since, my parents died. He understands me well. He know everything about me, both the good and the bad. He is the best friend I could every ask for.

"Summer, are you ready?" George called out to me.

"Yeah, all set!" I replied with bags in my hands. "Thank you for having us again." I deeply appreciated him.

He rolled his eyes. "What are friends for?"

"Clyde!!" I yelled. "Get your ass down here- it is time to go home."

5 more minutes, please." He yelled back. I'm sure he is playing some video games. His favorite video game is Call Of Duty. I marched upstairs.

"How many times, have I warned about the hours you spent on games?" I pulled his ears and dragged him outside.

"Ouch, that hurts." He winced.

"Next time, you listen to me." I warned him again.

My brother can be naughty sometimes, but he does have a huge heart.

We got into George's car, and drove to our house. School is starting tomorrow. We need to get prepared. Am I excited for it? I really don't know. Maybe just a little. I just hope everything goes well. I'm already tired of dramas as it is.

During the drive, Clyde suddenly asked. "Who was the guy who picked your call the other day? I've been wanting to ask you."

I instantly froze. George stared at me from the front mirror.

"A friend." I managed to mutter.

"I do hope it is a good one." He said and went back to playing games on his phone.

I breathed out a sigh of relief, that I did not know I was holding. The rest of the ride was quiet till we got home.

"Thank you so much, again." I appreciated George for the 1,001 times today.

"If you say thank you, again, I will pull out your mouth." He grinned. "We will meet tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah! Byyee!" And he zoomed off.

---

The D-Day has finally arrived. I was excited but my excitement was a percentage of Clyde's own. He was just all over the place. Well, we been out of school for a long time now.

"Summer, breakfast is ready!" He called me. The scar on my face were finally clearing, I just used a little mascara to conceal it and went to the dinner. We hurriedly finished it- we do not want to be late on our first day. Immediately, we heard George's car honk. Right on time.

"I'm really excited for this new session!" Clyde exclaimed.

"It is written all over you face!" George chuckled.

We finally arrived at the College; New York University.  The air smelt differently. I'm really excited for this. Our registration well smoothly with George's help. We helped Clyde fit in, in his department - Department Of Applied Arts - before we went to our department.

Department of music - my dream, my passion. There was an ongoing class already. We entered silently.

"New student?" The professor said immediately we entered.

"No sir, I'm a returning student." I replied nervously. I hated attention.

"Name?" He asked again.

"Summer," I replied.

"You are welcome, Summer. Take a seat." He said and continued his lecture. I quickly found an empty seat. George had sat down before me. Not long into the lecture, the door opened.

"How may I help you?" The professor stopped his lecturer once more.

"I'm Kinsley, a new student." I heard that familiar voice, and slowly raised my head. It was him; my knight in the shining armour. "Oh Lord have mercy on me!" I screamed inwardly. I tried as much as possible to hide my face.

"Quietly, take a seat. You're welcome, Kingsley." The professor returned back to his lecture.

Kingsley scanned the room, and finally saw me. The was shock on his face. He quickly concealed it, and walked up to me. There was an empty space close to me, so he took it. His friend sat behind us. I totally ignored him and shut him out. He kept staring at me, wondering if I am the one or not.

"Could you please, stop staring?" I told him.

"Oh! Sorry. You look familiar." He said awkwardly and continued with the lecture.

I sighed. "Deity on earth and in heaven, please do not let him recognize me!"

The moment the lecture ended, I slammed my notebook shut and bolted to my feet. Before I could take a step, his hand shot out, gently but firmly catching my wrist. I froze, my eyes dropping down to his hand, sending him a silent, glaring command to let go.

"Oh. Sorry," he apologized, releasing his grip but stepping into my path. "But seriously, you really do look familiar. You're Dark Bird, right? The girl I saved from the—"

Panic surged through me. Without thinking, I slapped my hand right over his mouth, cutting off the rest of his sentence. Grabbing his jacket sleeve, I dragged a thoroughly shocked Kingsley out of the lecture hall and down the corridor until we found an empty, quiet alcove.

I finally released him.

"What was that for?" he asked, completely perplexed, adjusting his jacket.

"Yes, I'm Dark Bird. The girl you saved at the club," I burst out in a hushed, fierce whisper. "But the situation has changed. I am a student here now, and I intend to keep a low profile. You are going to help me do that by staying completely out of my business. No one can find out what happened that night. Understood?"

I gave him one last warning glare, turned on my heel, and stormed away. It took every ounce of my self-control to keep my voice steady, because damn, he looked even more breathtakingly handsome in the daylight than he did the night we met.

As I walked away, I heard his friend jog up to meet him. "Who was that?"

"No one." He replied.

On my way back, I noticed a massive crowd of students gathered around the central bulletin board. Curious, I pushed my way through. I spotted George hovering near the front.

"What's going on?" I asked, tapping his shoulder.

"The list for the Fall Orientation showcase is out," George said, looking up. "Check if your name is on there."

Students always went crazy for this event every year, mostly because the department gave the performers complete creative freedom to do whatever they wanted on stage.

I scanned the rows of names until my eyes caught on the vocal performance section. My heart did a sudden, violent flip. My name was there, printed in bold ink. But I wasn't performing a solo. I had been paired up for a duet.

Directly next to my name, the paper read: Kingsley Roberts.

You have got to be kidding me!