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S U M M E R

I hate myself. To be more specific the way I'm portrayed--Summer Royce the preppy fake blonde with friends and a 4.0 GPA that I work my ass off for. Then why do I continue to let it happen; I'm scared. If I let the real me, inner Summer out will people figure out the broken pieces I hold together. My friends, Katelyn and Benji; would they even want me anymore? And yes it's fake, I am a fake but I'm afraid to be real.

It's Monday, and I sit in my room wide awake at 1 in the morning trying to study for my Physics exam tomorrow. If I don't get at least a 85% then my grade will drop to a B, and with the quarter ending soon it can jeopardize my 4.0.

So I press further into the subject, trying to put one formula with the other. It seems to only stress me more. My brain needed air, space to breathe out. My hoodie is soon thrown on and my flip flops are slid on. I race out the house and begin to walk down the street with my headphones in.

We have a lot of electric boxes in my neighborhood for some odd reason—and out of all of them I chose the most beat up one to hang out at. It had initials carved into it, and curse words along with silly drawings. However there was a tree that hovered above it so when you sit there is something to provide you cover and support.

My feet dangle off the box, the rest of my body messily laid across the box. The stars glimmer through the trees and I hope from somewhere above my brother is watching me and smiling.

Kai passed away when I was fourteen. He was always a good leader. Did sports, had a good friend group, and relationship with his girlfriend. When he went to college we didn't have as much watch over him. He was at a college party and overdosed on some bad brownies laced with Xanax. We were never all that close but for some reason I wanted to fill the gap that was left after he passed.

My parents are real estate agents, and have always been away from home. When he died though, it was as if I was a reminder of him in a bad kind of way. I sigh aloud, and the tree suddenly shakes. A boy falls from above and lands not so gracefully on the sidewalk.

I sit up and look over the edge of the electric box. It's dark and I can barely see the person and I know they can't see me. Worry spreads over my face as he lays there for a bit. "Uh, are you okay?" I mumble.

"Fuck—yeah. You just scared the shit out of me." The boy, who I now recognize as Luke Hemmings stands and gives me a soft, not so sincere smile.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean too." I scan my eyes over his body. He's a mess but I don't say anything about it. "I'm Summer."

"Luke." He returns the gesture.

  "Oh I know that. You're in the group of transfer students from Sydney, right?"

"That's me. Sorry if it looks like I was ease dropping or something I was just y'know, chilling."

I grin and stand up coming faced with his height. "Aren't soccer players supposed to be short?"

"You mean football. And that is so stereotypical of you." He scoffs, looking away.

"Well your in America so we're calling it soccer," I then frown—realizing my tone. "Sorry that was mean."

Luke nods his head. "Not like I was expecting you to be nice anyway."

I huff in annoyance. Little does he know I work my ass off to keep this act up. He doesn't know me, how could he say that. "You know I didn't come here to be harassed," I roll my eyes. "I'll see you at school, Luke." I spit his name with disgust and walk home. What a prick.

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