𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫

three

Summer

I'm sitting cross-legged on my bed, textbooks and notebooks spread out around me, as Kayali flips through her phone, her feet kicked up on my wall.

She's been talking about her day at school, and I'm listening with half an ear, nodding along as I try to focus on an online practice test.

"...and then Mr. Dutton got so mad that he actually threw the whiteboard marker. Can you believe it?" she says, laughing. I look up from my laptop screen, caught off guard.

"He threw something?" I blink, trying to imagine our calm, gray-haired history teacher doing anything so extreme.

"Yup," Kayali says, grinning as she mimics the dramatic toss with an imaginary marker. "It was in the middle of Jason and Leo's daily battle over who sits by the window. Jason won, obviously, but only because he's faster."

I laugh, shutting my laptop. "Sounds like there's never a dull moment in class."

"Tell me about it," she says, rolling her eyes but smiling. "I keep thinking, one day, he's just going to snap. Like, full-on meltdown. You're lucky you don't have to deal with that."

I shrug, tracing patterns on my notebook. "Maybe, but sometimes I feel like I'm missing out. I mean, I see everything from a screen. No chaos, no Jason-versus-Leo battles. Just... quiet."

Kayali tilts her head, sympathy flashing in her eyes. "Yeah, but you're also missing the torture of presentations, the agony of pop quizzes, and the daily drama. Trust me, it's not always as fun as it sounds."

I force a smile, not wanting her to feel bad. "Still, I bet it would be nice to actually see people my age. Besides you, of course."

She waves her hand, brushing it off. "Trust me, you're not missing much. Half the time, it's just people talking over each other, and the other half, it's people trying too hard to be cool."

There's a pause, and I can feel her watching me carefully, like she wants to ask something but isn't sure if she should. Finally, she speaks, her voice a little softer.

"Have you ever thought about going back? Like... to regular school?"

I look down at my notebook, feeling a twist in my chest. "Sometimes, yeah. But I don't think it would work. It's just... complicated."

Kayali nods, not pushing any further, and I'm grateful. She's the one person who understands without making me explain everything, who just gets it without needing every detail. She shifts topics with a bright grin, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"Anyway! You'll never guess who got detention for the whole month."

I raise an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "Who?"

She leans in, dropping her voice like she's sharing a big secret. "Jordan. For sneaking his phone in class and taking pictures of the answers on the final quiz. Apparently, he thought he was being subtle, but the flash went off, and everyone saw."

I snort, covering my mouth. "Oh no, that's the worst!"

"I know, right?" Kayali bursts into laughter, and I can't help but join in. "He's a mess, Summer. You would love him."

"Sounds like it," I say, smiling. "Maybe I should sneak into your school sometime and see all this chaos firsthand."

"Now that would be epic," she says, eyes widening at the idea. "Imagine! I'd give you the grand tour. We'd sit at the back of the cafeteria, people-watching and gossiping. You'd finally get to see the infamous Jason-Leo rivalry."

I laugh, imagining it. "I'd probably be completely lost. It's been so long since I was in a real classroom."

She grins, nudging me with her foot. "Nah, you'd blend right in. Besides, you're way cooler than half the people at school. They'd probably all want to be friends with you."

I shake my head, feeling a pang of doubt but pushing it aside. "You're just saying that."

"Not at all!" she insists, leaning back on her hands. "You've got this mysterious, artsy vibe going on. People would eat that up."

Her words make me laugh, but they also warm me in a way I don't entirely understand. For a moment, I let myself imagine it, being part of her world, blending in with her friends, walking through the crowded halls, and hearing the laughter and noise all around. But then I remind myself of reality—the quiet solitude of my room, the endless hours of studying alone. It's safer that way, less pressure. At least, that's what I tell myself.

We talk for another hour, her stories pulling me out of my head and making me feel like, just for a bit, I'm right there with her, sharing in the craziness. Finally, she checks her phone and lets out a sigh.

"I should probably head home. My mom's going to start wondering where I am."

I nod, but the familiar ache settles in as I realize how empty the room will feel once she's gone. "Yeah, of course. Thanks for coming over."

She gets up and grabs her bag, swinging it over her shoulder before pulling me into a hug. "Anytime, Summer. And hey, text me if you need anything, okay? Even if it's just to vent about another practice test."

I smile, hugging her back. "I will."

As she leaves, I feel a mixture of happiness and loneliness, like I've been given a glimpse of something I want but can't quite reach.

I push the feeling down, telling myself it doesn't matter.

I'll just dive back into studying, keep my head down, and let everything else fade.