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117

Summer

M y eyes open, and I am instantly alert. I don’t remember exactly what I was dreaming, but I can still feel the spirit clinging to the corpse, its blood on my skin, and the vacant, dead eyes fixed upon me.

I stretch as I take in the room from this new angle, groaning as my muscles protest from the odd position I slept in. Alice is taking up most of the bed, lying sprawled out, her hand on Connor’s face. I sit up and bite back a laugh as I snap a photo before getting out of bed.

Dread fills me again when I remember the day I have ahead of me, another day with the headmaster, another day without Connor and Alice. The stranger pops into my head, and I allow myself a moment to miss him. I want to reach out to him, but I’m unsure how to move past what he said on the phone.

I stand at the end of the bed and watch my family sleep. They look so peaceful. I consider waking them to let them know I’m going to go work out, but they’ve also had a traumatic couple of days. Deciding I will be quick, I pull on my workout clothes and quietly slip out of the room.

I inhale deeply and skip down the steps, my thoughts a chaotic mess as I walk quickly toward the gym.

“Summer?”

Stopping in my tracks, I force the facade back into place and turn to see a familiar kitsune female watching me from down the path. She looks familiar, but I can’t remember where I know her from. I think her name is Lucille or Lucy.

“I heard about… Well, I heard… you screaming that day,” she stammers, sadness and compassion radiating from her.

Right. She lives down the hall. I look away, unsure what to say.

“I called for the headmaster when I heard.” Her soft voice betrays all the trauma she felt just from hearing my reaction to my dead best friend. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” she says before turning and walking away, unaware of the small sliver of kindness she’s just given me.

I spend the rest of the walk trying not to think about my day and the hell it’s going to be, but I’m unsuccessful. When I arrive at the gym, my mood sours. How did I forget about Max? Oh yeah, cause my mind is so chaotically busy with the murder of my best friend.

“Fight?” Max asks, though his expression is wary.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I say, making my way to the treadmill, needing to lose myself in the effort of a workout.

Remember the part you have to play.

I hear the headmaster’s voice in my head, and it makes me bristle.

Max walks over. “Why?”

“Go away, Max,” I say with a sigh, starting the treadmill.

He stares at me, but I refuse to acknowledge him. “I–I heard about Alice,” he stammers, and I don’t think I’ve ever heard him sound quite so uncomfortable.

I let the grief seep into my bones again, but I don’t respond.

“About last time—” Max begins.

“Not now, Max,” I snap, and there is nothing false about my reaction. I have enough going on without worrying about Maximillian fucking Romulus.

“Summer,” he says, placing his hand on the arm of the treadmill.

I shake my head. “If you treat me differently when something good happens, like getting engaged, I’m guessing you’re going to treat me even more differently when my best friend gets fucking murdered. I can’t handle it, Max. Go away.”

“Just… let’s just fight,” Max says, his hand tightening on the treadmill.

“Fight someone else. I want to be alone,” I growl, a tear escaping down my cheek.

I see him grow larger in my peripheral vision, and then he storms away. Wiping away the tear, I run faster, trying to work through the mess in my mind. Alice died, and then she was alive again, but I need to pretend she’s not. I need to spend every day acting like she is gone for good. Connor is at home protecting her. He’s safe there. The headmaster… gods, he’s such a dick.

Show me what you can do, Summer.

Show me what you can do, Summer.

Your name will never be Summer Morningstar.

Your name will never be Summer Morningstar.

Your name will never be Summer Morningstar.

Another tear falls, and I don’t realize I’ve been slowly increasing the speed of the treadmill until my feet are barely touching the belt. The moment I become aware, I lose my footing. Pain slices up my leg as my ankle gives, and I am thrown from the machine. Max is suddenly beside me, his eyes glowing green.

“Are you an idiot?” he asks a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead. He was obviously in the middle of working off his own frustrations.

I sit up, and my ankle throbs in pain. I hiss out a breath as I move it experimentally. Max leans down and scoops me into his arms, carrying me into the sports medicine room.

“Fucking moronic, stubborn, inconsiderate ass,” he grumbles as he deposits me on the table.

He sits in front of me, and I wince as he lifts my ankle to examine it. “Takes one to know one,” I grate between clenched teeth.

“Shut up,” Max hisses. “You may be able to heal, but you can still hurt,” he says, looking at my ankle, which is already swollen and bruised.

“You ruptured a tendon.” He curses and gently lowers my foot. He stands up and starts gathering tape and bandages. “The fuck were you thinking?” he growls.

“I was,” I hiss as he lifts my ankle again, “just running, and then I started to think about…” I swallow hard, not able to force the words out.

Max glances at me, his hard gaze softening only slightly before he places an ice pack on my ankle.

“Fuck,” I groan as he moves my foot a little, and then I start to sob again. Fuck, I hate this version of myself, and I hate that I obviously feel comfortable sobbing in front of dickbag Max. But here we are.

“I miss you,” I whisper, not looking at him.

Max’s head snaps up. “You’re the one who’s been avoiding me.”

I meet his gaze. “You saw the ring and flipped out, and then Alice…” I choke down a sob.

Max looks back down at my ankle. “I’m sorry about Alice. I’m not good at dealing with this shit. And the ring thing. I just… needed a moment to process.”

I frown, watching him as he starts to wrap my ankle. “You know it’s not you that I’m marrying, right? No need to go all commitment-phobe on me.”

“Just didn’t think marriage was your thing,” I say with a shrug.

“Why does it matter to you? I know you have this thing with Con?—”

“I just thought you and I were alike. Guess I was wrong.”

His words remind me of the fight I had with the stranger on Connor’s porch. I opened up to him and he dismissed me. That’s how Max is feeling.

I look back down at my ankle. “We are alike,” I say, eventually.

Max scoffs. “Yeah? You’re not going to turn into Suzy Homemaker? Wait for Connor to come home from his Legion with dinner ready and slippers in hand? Barefoot and pregnant.”

“No,” I say without an ounce of hesitation. “Look, Max, marriage was never something I envisioned for myself, but neither was someone like Connor. Honestly, before I started dating Connor, my type was definitely someone more like you. You know, a complete asshole.”

Max snorts, focusing on my ankle. “You into one-night stands?”

“It used to be all I ever did. One-night stands or no-strings situations, and all with asshole guys I knew were bad for me. But it didn’t matter. I never stuck around long enough for them to harm me.”

Not after Torin.

Max finishes wrapping my ankle. “You know, there’s an old saying about fate,” Max starts. “Fate doesn’t waste its bullets.” Max’s lips twitch. “You sure fate wants you as Connor’s dutiful wife?”

“I love Connor,” I reply.

“So that’s a no then,” Max replies, and I bristle. Just when I think Max and I are making some progress and finding some common ground, he has to go and blow it.

“Whatever, Max,” I say with weary snarkiness.

He growls and turns to walk away, but I grab his arm. His muscles are tight with tension, but he stops and snarls, “What do you want from me?”

“I miss you, Max,” I say. I want him as a friend, and some instinct is begging me to fight for that relationship.

“You can find someone else to fight with,” Max growls.

I tug his arm and pull him closer. “Maxxy…”

“What?” he grumbles, but he softens slightly at the nickname.

I pull his arm again, tugging him closer.

“Summer, you’re not playing fair.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, tugging his arm again.

“I’m trying to be mad at you,” he grumbles, but his lips twitch.

“We’re not frenemies,” I say, and Max frowns. “We’re friends, and I need you, Max. Whether or not I like it.”

It’s true. When I’m with Max, I don’t feel vulnerable. I feel strong. I know he will not tiptoe around me in an effort to protect me. Maybe I was wrong with what I thought the other week. Perhaps applying the label frenemies to our relationship doesn’t automatically remove the responsibilities of friendship. Perhaps Max and I can be friends, just differently.

Max exhales and then wraps his arms around me, hugging me tightly. “I’m not good at dealing with death trauma, but I’ll try.”

I shake my head. “Just be my friend, okay?”

Max squeezes me again. “I missed you too.”

I smile, though those damn tears start leaking from my eyes again. I’m going to fucking dehydrate myself soon.

Max pulls back, bracing his hands on my arms. “If you’re happy. I’m happy.” He smirks. “But you’re still a pain in my ass.”

I nod, and Max musses my hair. “Don’t work out for the next couple of days, and take it easy on that ankle,” he says, helping me off the table. I groan in pain as I put weight on my ankle. “Moron,” Max mumbles under his breath, and I glare at him. “That will take a few days, even with your accelerated healing. You need to take it easy, all right, Sum?”

I blink at him. “You never call me Sum.”

Max shrugs. “You never call me Maxxy.”

“Do you need me to help you home?” Max asks, helping me to the door.

I shake my head. “No, I’m staying at the Morningstar House for now. I’ll be fine.”

Max nods. “Okay, well, make sure your fiancé takes care of you.” I am hobbling toward the door when Max sighs. “Wait.” I glance at him over my shoulder. “You have plans tonight?”

“No,” I say with a frown.

Max takes a deep breath and says, “Want to hang out? You and golden boy?”

I blink and then blink again. “You want to hang out with us?”

Max rubs a hand over the back of his neck. “I want to try to understand what you like about him.”

“Sure! Come round this evening?” I say with a smile.

“I’ll bring pizza.”

I wave and start limping home, concentrating on my steps but feeling a little lighter. Someone calls my name, and I look back to see Aqua behind me, her loud sweater assaulting my eyes with its bright oranges and yellows. I give her a small smile, but I don’t stop walking. My slow, careful steps make it easy for her to catch up.

“Hey, Summer! Are you all right?”

“I’m all right. Just an accident on the treadmill. How are you?”

“You’re limping. Let me help,” Aqua says, grabbing my arm and pulling it over her shoulder.

“Really, I’m okay.”

Aqua doesn’t pay any attention, and we continue on the path to the Morningstar House. “Hey, I heard about Alice. I’m really sorry. I know you guys were super close.”

Irritation sizzles through me. I don’t know why, but her talking about Alice and me like she knows us annoys me, but I just nod. “Thank you.”

“I never spoke to her much. She seemed cool though,” Aqua muses. “Weird that she was a vamp.” I frown, glancing at her. “Well, the others were fae, ya know?”

I nod, and we spend the rest of the walk in uncomfortable silence, save for the strange tune she starts humming. It’s the same one she was humming the night she found me in the forest. I feel an enormous sense of relief when the Morningstar House comes into view, and I pull my arm free. “Well, thanks a lot.”

Aqua grins at me. “No problem! See you around.”

I limp up the path and call for Connor. He comes to the door almost immediately, still in his pajamas. His eyes widen when he sees me limping. “Babe! What happened?” He swoops me into his arms and carries me inside.

“Fell off the treadmill, I’m fine.”

“Babe!” Connor gasps.

“Oh, and Max is coming over after classes today.”

Connor almost drops me but manages to lay me down on the couch. “What? Why?”

I shift my ankle and grimace. “Because we’re friends, and he wants to get to know you.”

“Me? Why?”

“Because we’re getting married, and he’s my friend.”

Connor is about to protest when he finally realizes I’m in pain. He sprints across the room, calling for Luke.

Luke comes down the stairs two at a time and hurries toward me. He slowly waves his hand over my leg. “Torn tendon,” he murmurs under his breath, and his palm starts to glow. “There’s not a whole lot I can do. I’ll repair it as much as I can, but it’ll be sore for a few days.”

Connor gives me a dark look.

“What?” I ask.

“You hurt yourself,” he almost growls.

I reach up and grab him, pulling him down on top of me.

“Luke, give us a minute?” Connor groans.

Luke leaves promptly, and I kiss Connor deeply. Connor moans and bites my lip.

“No hurting my fiancé,” he demands.

I curl my fingers into his waistband. “Maybe you can heal me…”

Connor’s groan is filled with need. “Is that so?”

I push my hand into his pants and wrap my fingers around his hardening length, squeezing. “I think that’s definitely what I need.”

“We should be going.” My whole body tenses as an icy-cold voice settles over us. I glance over Connor’s shoulder to see the headmaster standing by the door.