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Summer

I search for Rafe all over campus. Classes are over by the time I admit defeat and head home. The next day, Connor and his brothers aren’t at lunch. They are no doubt still out looking for Rafe or trying to help him. I don’t see or hear from him all day and refuse to admit how much I miss him. My phone rings just as I am climbing into bed, a photo of Connor’s face filling the screen. I answer the video chat and shift around in bed to get comfortable. Connor’s lips are pulled into a smile, but I can see how tired and worried he is. It is in the lines etched into his brow and the darkness shadowing the sky blue of his eyes.

“Hi, big guy,” I say, smiling at him.

“Hi, gorgeous.”

“How are you? How is Rafe?” I curl into my pillow, still holding my phone up.

Connor sighs and rubs his hand over his face, looking completely worn out. It’s strange to see him like this. He’s always the sunshine, and I’m always the rain. “I’m a terrible brother.”

I frown. How can he possibly think that? He is devoted to his family. Even when he’s rolling his eyes at their antics, he wouldn’t hesitate to lay down his life for them.

“Yesterday is a day that I… I usually spend the day with Rafe. Every single year. But this year, I forgot.” Connor’s face is drawn, his eyes sad, and my chest aches. He’s always so adaptable and positive. Seeing this warrior angel so defeated carves a few more inches from my walls.

“Connor…”

“I forgot,” he repeats, sighing heavily. His shoulders are hunched under the weight of the responsibilities he normally carries with such selfless ease.

“Con?” The nickname slips from my lips. It’s another sign of the growing familiarity between us. The warmth of him is melting the walls of my icy fortress. Maybe this place really can become my home.

He smiles, but it is sad and doesn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, babe?”

“You’re a good brother. You’re a good person.” My chest grows warm, tasting the truth in my words. I’m not. I’m not a good person. The sinister thought whispers through my mind, reminding me why I am not worthy of him, love, or friendship.

Connor exhales again, but this time it sounds less strained. His eyes sparkle, the shadows not quite as dark or deep. “I missed you.”

I look away, mumbling incoherently. My cheeks heat, but I will go to my grave before admitting it.

“Hm?” Connor tilts his head, cupping a hand behind one ear.

“Missed you… too,” I grumble, my lips barely moving as I murmur the words.

Connor sits up and puts a finger in his ear, wiggling it around. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you.”

I growl and narrow my eyes at the smirking angel. “Don’t push it.”

Connor’s smile lights up the screen. I wait for the inevitable icy fist to squeeze my heart, but nothing happens. For some reason, I’m comfortable saying these heavy words to him, admitting that I might want him around, and I think of him when he’s gone. It is a weakness, and I usually cut those out of my life the second I think one might form. But the idea of walking away from Connor makes my stomach turn.

“Summer?” The way he says my name, with an intensity that borders on reverence, adds another flicker of warmth to a heart I encased in ice.

“Thanks for being okay with me having to hang out with Rafe.”

I frown. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe you had plans for us.”

“We’re not joined at the hip, big guy.” I chuckle. “Go to sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I love spending time with you.” Connor yawns.

“Night, Con.”

“Night, Sum.”

I stare up at the ceiling in the silence after the call. Reality creeps in, the familiar chill edging out the precious bubble of sunshine and warmth that wraps around me when Connor is near. Something inside me is still so broken. Why can’t I be normal? Why can’t I move on from my past? I want to be able to have a conversation with the man I am seeing and not be crushed under the weight of my own uncertainty in the aftermath. When I’m around him, I’m so much more at ease, more comfortable with the things that once terrified me. I trust him as much as I am capable of, and I do think he’s genuine. Would being open with him be the worst thing in the world? Maybe, but he’s not Torin.

My phone pings with a notification from Nexus . I open it up and reply to the direct message from one of my classmates before mindlessly scrolling through my feed. Alice posted a photo of us from earlier, and I frown when I notice that the first notification is from that strange account 1015. I click through my stories, and sure enough, whoever this is has viewed all of them.

I did some more research since I first noticed the account, confirming that blank accounts are supposed to be more than impossible. It is actually built into the creator’s first code, not that I could find anything about the creator.

The window rattles, and I startle at the sudden noise. Sitting up, I stare at the window as another gust of wind batters against it. My ears twitch. That is not the sound of branches against glass.

The clouds obscuring the moon shift, letting the bright light flood my room. I slip out of bed, intending to close the curtains, but stop when I reach the window. While the leaves rustle, they aren’t blowing nearly enough to explain the gale that made the window shudder. But that’s not what has me frozen in place.

A shadowy figure shifts impatiently beneath the trees, nearly lost in the night gloom. Like at the library, my skin prickles with awareness. I can feel their eyes searing me, scalding my skin like a burn. There is nothing kind in the way the gaze lingers on me. The hair stands on the back of my neck, but I refuse to look away. I can feel the menace and malevolence rolling from the being in waves, yet I am still drawn to the figure. Slowly, I lift my hand and press my fingertips to the cool glass.

I gasp and pull back as something slams against the glass, an unknown force from outside. My chest heaves, and I yelp when a second blow makes the window shake. Suddenly, the wind stops, and everything goes eerily silent.