𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫

ten

Summer

The house is alive with music, laughter, and the constant hum of people I don't recognize.

I feel like I'm floating through a sea of strangers, watching faces and gestures but never fully connecting with anything. Kayali is somewhere nearby, talking with
some girls she knows from school, but I'm finding it hard to stay in one place for too long. There's this restless feeling inside of me, something that keeps me moving from room to room, glancing around at the clusters of people, my fingers wrapped tightly around a half-empty cup.

It's strange to be here. A year ago, this would've been unimaginable. Back then, I wouldn't have dared to set foot at a party like this — not with how people used to talk, how they used to look at me. But I guess things have changed. Or maybe I've just forced myself to believe they have. Either way, here I am, dressed up and on display, hoping no one sees through the cracks.

I take a sip of my drink, barely tasting it, and glance toward the stairs, wondering if maybe I should just slip away for a moment to gather my thoughts. But as I turn, I freeze. There, leaning heavily against the wall, looking as sloppy as I've ever seen him, is JJ.

His gaze is unfocused, his expression somewhere between anger and confusion. His cheeks are flushed, and he's clutching a bottle, swaying slightly as he takes another swig. The sight of him, disheveled and drunk, makes my stomach twist. I try to look away, to move past him without drawing attention, but he spots me almost immediately.

"Hey," he slurs, his voice loud enough to make a few heads turn. "What the hell are you doing here?"

I feel a wave of heat rush over me, an uncomfortable flush creeping up my neck. I'm not even sure how to respond. My instinct is to shrink away, to disappear, but his gaze is pinned on me, his eyes narrowing as he pushes himself off the wall.

"Answer me, Summer." He steps closer, his tone sharper, almost accusatory. "You think you belong here now? Think you're better than us?" His words are tinged with something that feels both hurtful and familiar, like he's saying things I've heard before — things that still linger, unspoken, between us.

I swallow, my throat tight. I know he's drunk, that he probably won't even remember this tomorrow, but that doesn't make it any easier to stand here under his gaze. I try to keep my expression neutral, to give him nothing to latch onto, but it's hard. His words cut through me, reminding me of every insecurity I've ever felt, every reason I never wanted to be at a place like this.

"I... I just came with Kayali," I manage to say, my voice soft, almost inaudible over the noise. I keep my eyes down, focusing on the floor, on the way the shadows play across it, anything to avoid looking at him.

But he's not done. He scoffs, shaking his head with a bitter laugh. "Kayali, huh? Trying to pretend like you're one of them now? Like you're some perfect little... whatever you think you've become." His voice drips with contempt, each word hitting like a slap.

I don't say anything. I just stand there, letting the words wash over me, absorbing them like I always do. There's nothing I can say that would make a difference. JJ's words are like stones thrown into a river, disturbing the surface but sinking quickly, disappearing into the depths of everything I've already heard, everything I already believe.

After a moment, I turn, intending to walk away, to slip into the crowd and put as much distance between us as possible. But before I can move, he reaches out, grabbing my arm with a grip that's unsteady but surprisingly strong. His fingers dig into my skin, and I freeze, feeling the tension in his grasp.

"Don't think you're better than us," he mutters, his voice low, his eyes boring into mine. "You might look different now, but you're still the same, Summer. You're still..."

He trails off, his words slurring as he loses his train of thought, but the implication lingers. I feel my heart pounding in my chest, a mix of anger, hurt, and something else that I can't quite place. I know I should pull away, should say something to defend myself, but I can't. The words are trapped, caught somewhere between my mind and my mouth.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he lets go, stumbling back with a dismissive wave. "Whatever. Go do your thing, little miss perfect."

Without another word, he turns away, weaving through the crowd, his steps unsteady as he disappears into the throng of people. I stand there, frozen, my arm tingling where his fingers had dug into my skin. I glance down, seeing the faint imprint of his grip, the slight redness left behind.

I take a shaky breath, feeling the weight of his words settle over me, heavy and suffocating. It's like every step I've taken, every change I've made, means nothing in his eyes. To him, I'll always be that girl, the one he looked down on, the one he never bothered to understand.

I turn, forcing myself to move, to put as much distance as I can between myself and the place where he stood. I weave through the crowd, keeping my gaze forward, ignoring the curious glances, the whispers. I just need to find somewhere quiet, somewhere I can breathe without feeling like I'm being watched, judged.

Finally, I slip outside, away from the noise and the crowd. The air is cool against my skin, and I close my eyes, letting the silence wash over me, drowning out the echoes of his words. I wrap my arms around myself, hugging my shoulders as I lean against the wall, feeling a strange emptiness settle over me.

I don't know why it still affects me, why his opinion matters so much. But there's something about his words, about the way he looks at me, that makes me feel like no matter what I do, I'll never be enough. Not for him, not for anyone.

Taking a deep breath, I straighten, trying to shake off the lingering feeling of hurt and frustration. I remind myself why I came here, why I wanted to prove to myself that I could be something different. I've worked so hard to change, to leave behind the person I used to be. And I refuse to let him — or anyone else — take that away from me.

After a few moments, I push off the wall, brushing off the imaginary dust, and make my way back inside. The noise of the party surrounds me again, but this time, I let it wash over me, numbing the ache, drowning out the echoes of JJ's voice.