Heir Born

10 | Summer

The day positively got away from me because I had no plans to be caught in a full-on fight with Nate. With an audience watching the entire clusterfuck of a shitshow no less.

Of course this had to happen at what was supposed to be just another dreadfully boring fundraising meeting.

Yes. Dreadful and boring. I'm a journo extraordinaire in the making. There are way more exciting things happening out there. I cannot be expected to find fundraising meetings exciting. There's absolutely nothing thrilling about them. At all.

Nate would beg to differ.

Nope. Nothing at all. And that's the attitude I intend to go with throughout the entire Masquerade madness. In a few months I will be done with all these people at Chaucer and getting ready for Cambridge.

Until then, I have to do my best not to have a repeat of today, because it's done now. No use reliving the experience. 

I'm home. My safe haven. Where I can basically lounge around on my couch, with some popcorn and chocolates, and try to recover while watching a movie. Or three. Okay. So I indulge a lot when I've been through Nate trauma. Sue me.

The house is quiet when I arrive home. A typical Thursday. My mom and dad are both still at it with their bi-weekly Lennox Foundation dinners in the city. And that means one thing for me... Home alone. Peace. 

I go straight to my studio upstairs to kill time on my baby grand before my dinner for one, solo vibes. Maybe Bess will join me if I plead with her. Heck, I might as well have my dinner in the kitchen and watch her as she gets her baking done. 

Before I can even get settled at the piano, my phone does that buzzing thing. Notifications. If I could, I would turn them off too. I check my phone and see a bunch of haphazard texts from Paisley.

Paisley: Preston just invited me over to his house. Impromptu party for the soccer team.

Paisley: Tyler bailed on me. Something about his sensei. I don't know. I don't care.

Paisley: Be my plus one? Pretty please?

A wave of excitement hits me, very unexpectedly. Nate will probably be there. I'm definitely going to this party, but it's absolutely not because of Nate. Nope. Never. It won't hurt to let off some steam after the day I've had. I send my reply.

Summer: Sounds like fun. What time?

Paisley: Whenever we're ready. Does it matter? Just make sure you look fire.

Summer: Fire. Got it. I'll be ready in an hour.

I can't help but laugh as I reply. I jump up and run out of the studio to my bedroom as soon as I hit 'Send'.

As I throw out outfit after outfit, another text comes through.

"I'm still getting ready, Paise. Come on." I grab my phone from my nightstand. It's not Paisley. It's Nate. Fuck. My heart literally skips a beat.

Am I nervous? Excited? What is this feeling?

I open up the text to read it.

Nate: Sorry I joked about you falling off your high horse.

And then I'm gone. Somersaults in my heart or stomach or whatever. He's actually apologising for being a major loser. My lips lift up into a smile, as I type my reply.

Summer: Sorry I insulted the ground you walk on.

Nate: Sorry I said that Lennoxes throw their weight around.