Summer With You

The bell at Crestwood High screamed like it always did at 8:00 AM sharp. Mira clutched the strap of her worn backpack tighter as she stood in the doorway of Ms. Carter’s English class. The room was already full. Twenty-eight kids, all dressed in Crestwood’s uniform like it was a runway, all already in their groups. The rich kids on the left by the windows. The athletes in the middle. The quiet kids scattered in the back, trying not to be noticed. She was definitely a quiet kid. “Everyone, settle down,” Ms. Carter said, tapping her desk. Her voice had that teacher-practiced patience that meant she’d said it a hundred times already and didn’t expect it to work this time either. “We have two new students joining us today. Please welcome Mira Hale and Zain Malik.” Mira stepped forward before her legs could change their mind. “Hi,” she said. One word. That was all she could manage. Her throat felt dry, and the eyes on her didn’t help. She’d practiced what to say last night in the bathroom of the tiny apartment she now shared with her aunt Zara and two cousins. _Hi, I’m Mira. Nice to meet you._ Simple. Safe. But now it felt stupid in her mouth. “Zain?” Ms. Carter prompted. Zain Malik didn’t move at first. He was already sitting in the second row, slouched like he’d been forced to be there under threat of death. He had the kind of face that made people stop talking when he looked at them. Sharp jaw, dark eyes, and an expression that said he found this entire situation beneath him. He stood slowly, hands in his pockets. “Malik,” he said. That was it. No “hi.” No smile. Just his last name, like it was enough. And at Crestwood, it probably was. Malik was old money in this city. Everyone knew that. Mira felt her cheeks heat up. Great. First day, and she was already paired with the guy who clearly hated being here as much as she hated being seen. “Alright,” Ms. Carter said, oblivious to the tension. “Mira, you can sit in the empty seat next to Zain. We’ll have you two work together for the first project. It’s good to pair new students.” Mira’s stomach dropped. _Next to him?_ She glanced at Zain. He was already staring at her, and his expression hadn’t changed. If anything, it got colder. “Great,” he muttered under his breath. Mira walked down the aisle, every step feeling too loud. The whispers started the second she moved. “That’s the Malik kid.” “Who’s the girl?” “She looks… poor.” She heard it all. Crestwood was small enough that secrets didn’t last long. And an orphan transferring in mid-term? That was news. She sat down next to Zain. The desk between them might as well have been a wall. Ms. Carter started the lesson on _Romeo and Juliet_, of all things. Mira opened her notebook with trembling hands. She’d read it before, in the library back home. Back before. “Page 42,” Ms. Carter said. “I want you two to discuss the first scene. What do you think about the tension between the Montagues and Capulets?” Mira looked at Zain. He was staring out the window, not writing a single word. “Zain?” Ms. Carter said. He turned back, slow, annoyed. “It’s dumb.” The class went quiet. “Excuse me?” Ms. Carter said. “Fighting over a name,” Zain said, shrugging. “If two families hate each other that much, they deserve each other. It’s not deep.” Ms. Carter opened her mouth, then closed it. “Well. That’s… one interpretation. Mira, what do you think?” All eyes shifted to her. Mira swallowed. “I think… sometimes people inherit hate they never chose. And it’s hard to let go of something that’s all you’ve known.” The room was silent for a beat too long. Zain glanced at her then, really looked. His eyes narrowed, like he was trying to figure out if she was being smart or stupid. “Huh,” he said. That was all. Ms. Carter moved on, but the moment stuck. --- Lunch was worse. Crestwood didn’t have assigned seating, which meant the cafeteria was a battlefield of social hierarchy. Mira grabbed a tray and stood in the middle of it, lost. Her cousins had told her to sit with them, but they were already with the other scholarship kids in the corner, and she didn’t want to be dragged into that dynamic on day one. “Lost, orphan?” The voice came from behind her. Mira turned. Three girls stood there, all tall, all in designer versions of the uniform. The one in the middle was Serena Vance. Her family owned half the downtown property. Serena smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Sorry. Is that rude? I just heard you moved in with your aunt after your parents… you know.” Mira gripped her tray tighter. “I’m fine.” “Right,” Serena said. “Well, if you need anything, just ask. I’m sure my dad could find your aunt a better job. The café she works at isn’t exactly prestigious.” Beside her, Vivienne and Blair laughed. Mira felt her face burn. She didn’t know what to say. Arguing wouldn’t help. Crying would be worse. So she did the only thing she could: she walked away. She found an empty table in the corner, sat down, and stared at her food without eating it. “Seriously?” Mira looked up. Zain stood there with his own tray, looking down at her like she was an inconvenience. “What?” she said. He sat down across from her without asking. “You’re just going to let them talk to you like that?” Mira blinked. “Excuse me?” “You heard me,” he said. “Serena Vance. She does that to everyone she thinks is weaker. If you don’t shut it down now, it’ll never stop.” Mira stared at him. “And what do you care?” “I don’t,” Zain said, picking up his fork. “But I hate watching people be cowards. Eat your food. You’ll need the energy.” She didn’t know whether to be angry or confused. Probably both. “You’re not exactly friendly yourself,” she said before she could stop herself. Zain smirked. It was the first time she’d seen him do that. It made him look dangerous. “I’m not here to make friends, Mira Hale. I’m here because my father said I had to finish senior year in the country. That’s it.” “Then why sit with me?” He leaned back, studying her. “Because you didn’t cry. Most people would’ve cried.” Mira looked down at her hands. “Crying doesn’t change anything.” “No,” Zain said quietly. “It doesn’t.” For a few minutes, they ate in silence. It was awkward, but not hostile. That was new. --- After school, Mira walked the 20 minutes home. Aunt Zara didn’t own a car, and Mira wasn’t about to ask. The apartment was small, two bedrooms for four people. Her cousins, Lila and Noah, were already home, blasting music and ignoring her. Aunt Zara was at work. Mira dropped her bag and went straight to her room. The smallest room. Barely enough space for a bed and a desk. She sat on the bed and pulled out her notebook. _Day 1 at Crestwood. Met Zain Malik. He’s an asshole. But he didn’t let Serena talk to me. Why?_ She didn’t have an answer. Her phone buzzed. Unknown number. _You okay?_ The message said. _—Z_ Mira stared at it. Zain had her number from the class list. Of course he did. She typed back slowly. _Fine. Why do you care?_ The reply came fast. _I don’t. Don’t get used to it._ Mira smiled despite herself. Asshole. She put the phone down and looked at the ceiling. Crestwood was going to be hell. But maybe… maybe it wouldn’t be hell alone.