Page 6 of Connor (Total Sinners #2)

Summer

I was getting ready for class the next morning when I pulled Connor’s hoodie over my head before I even realized what I was doing.

The fabric was worn, soft in a way that came from too many washes, too many nights of being thrown to the floor, yanked over his head, shoved into the backseat of his car. It didn’t smell like him anymore—just detergent, just me—but I still buried my face in the collar, inhaling deeply, pretending.

I slept in it last night. I wasn’t supposed to. I told myself I wouldn’t. But when I curled up in bed, staring at the too-white walls, the empty space beside me, I caved. And when I woke up, I didn’t take it off. I couldn’t.

Even now, standing in the middle of my too-new apartment, I tugged the sleeves over my fingers, playing with the cuffs like they might hold me together. It wasn’t about him. Not really. It was about comfort. About familiarity. About pretending, just for a little while, that I wasn’t lonely.

Was it wrong for me to say I missed Vic?

He’d left two days ago to get back to Reverence and a small part of me wanted to get on the phone and call him to come back.

Growing up was harder than it seemed when you were the only one making sure you were doing what you were supposed to.

Eating when you were supposed to. Cleaning… the list went on and on.

I set my bag down carefully, like the wrong move might shatter something. Maybe that was stupid. Maybe it was just exhaustion. Or nerves. Or the weight of everything I’d left behind pressing down on me all at once.

My stomach twisted, tight and uncomfortable. I pressed a hand against it, willing the nausea to settle. It was just stress. That’s what I told myself. That’s all it was.

The air smelled too clean, like fresh carpet and cheap vanilla air freshener. The walls were blank, the furniture generic. It was the kind of place that could belong to anyone. That should have made it easier. A blank slate. A fresh start.

Then why did it still feel like a mistake?

My phone buzzed against the counter. The sound was too loud in the quiet, sharp enough to make me jump. I swallowed hard and turned, already knowing who it would be before I even glanced at the screen.

Victor: Have an awesome first day, kid. Call me afterwards to let me know how it went. Love you.

My throat went tight.

I should answer. I should tell him I was fine, that everything was great, that I didn’t feel like I was standing in the wreckage of a life I couldn’t go back to.

But I didn’t.

Instead, I did my best to try and shake the unease settling deep in my chest. I had to move. Had to distract myself before the silence swallowed me whole. Because the problem with running from the past wasn’t the running.

It was knowing that, sooner or later, it would always catch up.

I sighed again, pressing my fingers against my temples before shoving the phone into my pocket without replying.

Not yet. God only knew what was going on with me today, but I felt like I was one word away from crying like a little baby.

So no, I wasn’t going to message Vic back.

I didn’t trust myself to talk to him just yet, not even if it was just a message.

Looking around once more, I swallowed, then grabbed my keys and walked out the door.

***

I hadn’t been expecting to see North and Quinn on the first day. North should’ve been working, and Quinn was two years ahead of me in college. The juniors only returned to school a week later.

I thought I’d have time to adjust to my schedule.

Time to breathe, to build the walls I needed to keep myself from unraveling.

But the universe never really cared about my plans.

I was halfway through the day and exhausted from trying to keep track of everything I needed to do, think, and say around all these new people.

I didn’t know anyone, and my stomach was rumbling when I stepped into the campus cafeteria. The campus café was buzzing with life. Students shuffled between tables, trays clattered, conversations overlapped. The scent of coffee and freshly baked bread filled the air. It should have been comforting.

Instead, my stomach twisted with unease. I was waiting in line, trying to convince myself that I felt fine. That I didn’t want to go home and cry my heart out over something ridiculous—then the girl in front of me twisted around with her iced coffee in hand, and took one look at me before scowling.

"Summer."

Quinn. Her smile was tight, her eyes unreadable. North stood beside her, I realized dumbly as he turned around. He had his hands in his pockets, and the frown on his face melted as he found me there behind him.

“You’re really here,” Quinn murmured, shaking her head.

“Yeah,” I said, keeping my voice even. “Guess I am.”

She scoffed, looking away. “Never thought you’d actually leave town.”

“Yeah, well...” I had.

Silence took that statement. Neither Quinn nor I knew how to break it. That’s when North nodded at me. The same greeting he’d given me since we were kids. Then he tilted his head. “Vic says you haven’t been talking much.”

I stiffened. “I’ve been busy.”

North didn’t look away. He never did.

I hated this. There was a time when Quinn would have hugged me, when North would have thrown an arm around my shoulders, teased me about being late to everything, and turned the moment into something lighter.

But that time was gone.

Quinn let out a sharp breath. “Why this school, Summer? You could’ve gone anywhere.”

“I wanted to come here,” I said, voice firm, but we all knew that wasn’t the full truth.

North’s eyes narrowed slightly. “And that has nothing to do with Connor?”

My stomach flipped, but I kept my expression neutral, hoping neither of them recognized the hoodie I was wearing. “This has nothing to do with him.”

Just because it was the closest school to home didn’t mean I was here because of Connor. Right?

I wish I could answer that question. Quinn laughed like she knew what I was thinking, and there wasn’t a trace of humor in her tone as she nodded her head. “Right.”

Silence hung between us. Heavy. Awkward.

I shifted on my feet, clearing my throat, desperate to fill the space. "How have you been?" The moment the words left my mouth, I regretted them. It was the safest question. The worst one.

Quinn let out a quiet laugh, low and humorless. Her lips pressed together. “Like you care.”

North sighed. “No use pretending things aren’t different.”

“I’m not pretending,” I said quietly. I’d fucked up last year, and it ended up hurting Quinn. I couldn’t make up for that, but could she really judge me when North fucked up worse? He was the one who took the video and showed everyone at the party. That wasn’t me. No, all I’d done was stay quiet.

Just like Connor asked me to.

“Could’ve fooled me.” Quinn grabbed her coffee from the counter, not even glancing back as she muttered, “See you around.”

She didn’t want to do this. Not here.

But North? North lingered a second longer. His voice was low, steady, but there was an edge to it. "Why did you come here, Summer?"

I swallowed hard. "For school. Like everyone else."

He scoffed. "Bullshit."

I bristled. "You don’t get to say that."

Something flickered in his gaze—anger, maybe. "You really think you can just come back and pretend to be her friend?"

"I’m not pretending."

"Aren’t you?"

My pulse roared in my ears. The weight of everything—the guilt, the regret, the resentment—crushed down on me all at once.

I met his gaze, steady, unwavering. "No more than you are."

North’s eyes flicked over me once more, something sharp in his gaze, like he was still deciding what to do with me. He’d always had that intensity about him.

Then, without another word, he stepped back. I should have been grateful. That he didn’t say more. That he didn’t push. That he let me go.

But instead, all I felt was hollow.

The café was still loud, still bright, still buzzing with the kind of easy, careless energy that belonged to people who hadn’t ruined their own lives.

A girl laughed somewhere behind me. A barista called out a name that wasn’t mine.

Someone brushed past me in line, and I flinched like I’d been burned.

I didn’t belong here.

My stomach twisted violently. This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have come here.

Inhaling, I steadied myself. And because I’d spent my whole life running, I did what I did best. I walked away.

Not fast. Not like I was fleeing. But with just enough distance that I wouldn’t have to see whatever expression was on North’s face. Whatever was left of Quinn’s interest.

I stepped out into the afternoon sunlight, the heat pressing against my skin, thick and suffocating.

The campus stretched in front of me—students sprawled across the quad, leaning against trees, laughing, living.

It all felt too loud. Too big. Like the edges of the world had blurred, like I was floating just outside of it, unable to slip back in.

Vic wasn’t going to be happy with me. I was supposed to go to class. I was supposed to try. Instead, I turned in the opposite direction.

My apartment was only a ten-minute walk away, but it felt longer. I kept my head down, kept my arms crossed over my stomach, kept my breath steady, even as something inside me clawed at my ribs. I told myself I was fine. That this was fine. That I just needed a second.

But by the time I reached my door, I knew better.

The second the lock clicked into place behind me, the weight of it all crashed down.

I pressed my back against the door, squeezing my eyes shut, my breath coming too fast, too uneven. My fingers trembled at my sides, and I curled them into fists, like I could keep myself from falling apart if I just held on tight enough.

It didn’t work.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I swallowed hard, forcing my breathing to slow before I reached for it. One new message. I didn’t know why I was scared to look, but a small part of me already knew it was Quinn.

My thumb hovered over the screen for half a second before I forced myself to check. Yeah, it was her.

I barely had time to register her name before my stomach lurched.

The phone slipped from my fingers, clattering onto the floor as I bolted for the bathroom.

I barely made it to the toilet before I dropped to my knees, my whole body shuddering as I emptied my stomach.

It wasn’t just the nausea. It was everything. Being alone, starting a new school, breaking up with Connor. I squeezed my eyes shut, bile burning the back of my throat. I shouldn’t have come here. I should’ve chosen another school. Quinn’s message only made that more fucking clear.

Quinn: You could’ve gone anywhere else, Summer. Why the hell did you choose the college I’m going to?