Summer's Pov
Honestly, going back to school felt like breathing again.
The whole weekend had been too much. Too much house, too much tension, too many feelings I didn't know what to do with. And then there was the painting.
Gray had shown me his work the morning after I'd seen it, properly this time, walking me through a few of the pieces he'd finished and some he was still working on. He was calm about it, the way Gray was calm about most things, like sharing something that personal was just another conversation. I stood in front of each one and tried to say the right things, but my mind kept drifting back to that corner of canvas in the hallway, the sketch underneath the paint, the line of my jaw done carefully in pencil.
When I finally asked him about it, he'd smiled like he'd been
