One Crazy Summer Novel Novels & Stories

Merina MacGregor, now going by the name Summer McNeil, sat eating lunch with her friend, Ana Davies. They knew each other from boarding school. Since then, they’d confided everything in each other. Summer glared at her food as she stabbed her salad. She brushed her short, dark hair away from her cheek. “I don’t recognize him anymore. He’s not the guy I remember. He’s a complete asshat for a boss. It’s been a week, and he’s a slave driver.”

Annoyance? One thing was clear. This summer just got a whole lot more complicated...

he said softly, closing the door behind him. I sat up, clutching the blanket to my chest. “It’s nothing serious,” I murmured, my voice hoarse. Lucien’s lips twitched in a faint, humorless smile. “You’re bleeding and pale, Summer. Don’t tell me it’s nothing.” I looked down, my fingers twisting the blanket’s edge. “I don’t even know what’s happening anymore, Lucien,” I whispered. “I was just… trying to survive. And now I’m in a world I don’t understand, people with guns, revenge, secrets. I don’t belong here.”

Kristen asked, "What else? That time during the camping trip, did she…" "I don't really know, but she was all tangled up with Anthony in my tent. It was definitely really strange," Summer mumbled. Kristen broke out in a cold sweat. "She's way too vicious!" Summer consoled her, "It's alright. It's all over now. I've come to realize I'm really lucky. I always manage to dodge whatever disaster that is coming at me."

Her moan was soft, almost involuntary, and it sent a jolt through me that I barely suppressed. “What happened, Summer?” I asked, my voice calmer than I felt, trying to pull her back to reality. “No... nothing...” she murmured, her voice trembling. I could feel her confusion, her body reacting to me in ways I knew she didn’t understand. Hell, I barely understood it myself. She wasn’t like anyone I’d ever been with—not like the others who’d come and gone without leaving a mark. Summer was different, and it was driving me insane.

Not ever. Summer sat by the window, staring out into the darkness. The cold breeze from the open window brushed against her skin, but the chill in the air was nothing compared to the unease gnawing at her chest. Hilda had just left for the night, and now she was alone, consumed by thoughts of what Jessica was planning. Her mind couldn't settle, turning over the conversation she'd overheard earlier. Jessica's words echoed in her mind—When the foxes leave tomorrow, Summer will go with them.

Not really. Hannah turned to look at her as Summer took a sip of water, realising just then how parched her throat was. “You were quite lucky though, he usually doesn’t spare these mistakes.” She huffed out a laugh and said, “But that collision. Dayum, it felt like a scene straight out of rom-com.” Summer could just offer an answering smile because she never got to taste the simple privileges of a teenager, such as watching movies, hanging out with friends, or going out with someone. Until 15 she was too busy hiding her scars from her classmates. She was a freak in the school, a loner. But the day she turned 16 was the day she had started getting those dreams. Dreams that could be called nig

Part 4: Midsummer Dreams Summer Holiday tossed and turned in the middle of a dream that had visited on and off her whole life. She knew she was dreaming, but she didn't want it to end. The sand was warm beneath her feet and the surf lapped softly against the shore. No one else was around, just the two of them. The handsome, golden-haired man gazed at her with his midnight-blue eyes. He reached for her and she walked into his arms. He was mostly naked, a pair of cut-off jeans his only covering. She had on a sundress, with a bikini underneath. This part of the dream was the same, had been since she could remember. As she'd gotten older though, it had grown more and more explicit. Now, sometime

Why did he always watch me so closely, insisting I drink that glass of milk? Why did Lily and Julian appear in my life so suddenly and inexplicably? Why did his friends always call me… crazy? … The summer of my junior year, beneath the deafening chorus of cicadas, I endured the most brutal, blood-soaked, and violent experience of my life. It started with something so small. A few workers installing air conditioning at school stopped me to ask for directions. That was all. I did nothing but point them the right way. Then, one of them grinned wickedly.

Memories flooded her head and she decided to sit on the stair for a bit. She closed her eyes and drifted of into nostalgia. It was a bright summer's day when Bobby had mustered up the courage to call her his girlfriend. It was the first week in high school and Summer was the emotional punching bag for many kids. As she sat alone at the table, waiting for Bobby to arrive from the cafeteria, a group of girls grabbed her tray and threw it onto her lap. Summer shrieked but she did not say anything. The girls were mean, cruel and nasty. They said so many ruthless things to her that the tears started to stream down her face.