When summer learned to breathe

CHAPTER 18: TRUTH

By Friday, the tension between us was unbearable.

I saw Adrian everywhere in the hallways, at practice, across the cafeteria and every time our eyes met, it was like a spark lit up between us. But instead of igniting something beautiful, it burned like static, sharp and uncomfortable.

I couldn’t stop thinking about the dance in the rain. The way his hand had felt against mine. The almost-words that had hung between us before dissolving into silence.

Almost. Always almost.

By the time school ended, my chest was a storm. So when I found him waiting by my locker, leaning against the cold metal like he owned the place, I knew something was going to break.

“Summer,” he said, his voice low.

I didn’t let him finish. “What do you want, Adrian?”

He blinked, taken aback. “I wanted to talk”

“Talk?” I snapped, slamming my locker shut. “That’s rich. You’ve had weeks to talk. Weeks to say whatever it is you keep holding back. But you don’t. You just… hover. You just stand there like you’re about to change everything, and then you don’t. Do you have any idea how exhausting that is?”

His jaw tightened. “You think it’s easy for me? You think I don’t want to tell you?”

“Then why don’t you?” I demanded. My voice was too loud now, drawing curious glances from people nearby. I didn’t care. “Why do you keep stopping? Why do you let Marissa or Daisy or the entire universe cut you off every single time?”

He looked stricken, like I’d slapped him. For a second, he didn’t speak. And then...

“Because I’m scared, Summer!”

The words ripped out of him, raw and ragged, and for a moment the whole hallway went quiet.

I stared. “Scared? Of what?”

“Of you,” he said, his voice breaking. “Of what you’ll say. Of what it’ll mean if I admit it. Because once it’s out, I can’t take it back. And if you don’t feel the same…” He shook his head, eyes shining. “Then I lose you. And that terrifies me more than anything.”

My throat tightened. My anger melted into something else, something I didn’t know how to hold.

“Adrian…”

But he wasn’t finished.

“You think I like this? Keeping it in? Watching you walk away, wondering if you’ll ever give me another chance? You think I haven’t wanted to scream it every time you look at me like that?” His voice dropped to a whisper. “You undo me, Summer. And I don’t know how to survive if I’m wrong about you.”

The hallway blurred. I couldn’t breathe.

Because there it was, everything I’d wanted, everything I’d dreaded, spilling out of him in front of everyone.

And I didn’t know what to do with it.

I did the only thing I could.

I ran.

I didn’t stop until I reached the bleachers by the football field, my chest heaving, tears hot against my cheeks. I hated myself for running. Hated that after begging him to confess, I couldn’t handle it when he finally did.

But it was too much. Too big. Too real.

A shadow fell across the bleachers, and I knew without looking who it was.

“Summer,” Adrian said, his voice softer now.

I swiped at my face, angry at the tears. “Why did you follow me?”

“Because I couldn’t let you go like that.” He sat down beside me, not too close, but close enough that I felt the heat of him.

For a long moment, we sat in silence, the empty field stretching before us.

Finally, I whispered, “You shouldn’t be scared of me.”

He gave a small, broken laugh. “Too late.”

I turned to him, searching his face. The boy I’d loved in pieces, in almosts, was finally here in whole. Vulnerable. Honest. And it terrified me too.

“Adrian,” I said softly, my voice trembling. “What if I’m the one who ruins it?”

His eyes widened.

“What if I say it back and everything changes? What if we don’t survive it? What if love just… wrecks us?”

He shook his head, slowly, firmly. “Summer. What if it doesn’t?”

The air between us hummed, electric, fragile. One more step, one more word, and everything would be different.

But before either of us could close the distance, the final bell echoed across the field, and reality crashed back in.

Adrian stood, his expression unreadable. “I’ll give you time,” he said quietly. “But I’m done hiding. You know how I feel now. I’m not taking it back.”

And then he walked away, leaving me trembling on the bleachers, my heart torn wide open.

That night, I wrote in my journal again.

He said he’s done hiding. So why am I still hiding from myself?