Dirty Little Secrets

CHAPTER 24.

SUMMER'S POV

The walk back to the apartment felt like trudging through quicksand. Every step echoed with the Dean’s cold words. My phone stayed silent after that last menacing text, but its ghost lingered like a blade at my throat: Come to the club tonight, alone. As if I had any choice.

I pushed open the creaky door to our apartment. The silence hit harder than usual. Clyde was still at George’s—thank God. I didn’t want him seeing me like this: eyes swollen from unshed tears, hoodie reeking of club smoke and failure. I locked the door, slid the chain into place, and collapsed onto the worn couch.

Just a few minutes. That’s all I needed. I closed my eyes, breathe, then get ready for whatever fresh hell Mr. Robert—or whoever was pulling this strings—had planned for me tonight.

Sleep claimed me before I could fight it.

---

A sharp knock shattered the darkness.

I jolted upright, heart slamming against my ribs. The room was dim, the evening light filtering weakly through the curtains. My phone said 7:42 PM. I had slept for hours. The knocking came again, louder and insistent. Three sharp raps.

Clyde has a key, I thought, pulse racing. George would text first. No one else should be here.

I crept toward the door, bare feet silent on the cold floor. My hand hovered over the chain. “Who is it?"

No one answered, but the knock came heavier.

Every instinct screamed don’t open it. After the livestream, the viral humiliation, Dira’s staged breakdown, and Kingsley’s disappointed stare… I was a target. But what if it was George? What if something had happened to Clyde?

I swallowed hard and cracked the door, leaving the chain on. “Hello?”

The chain exploded inward as the door was rammed with brutal force. I stumbled back, a scream dying in my throat as bodies poured into the apartment. Young faces twisted with boiling anger, phones already held high, red recording lights blinking like predator eyes.

“There she is!” a girl with bright pink hair shouted, her voice dripping venom. “The ghetto w***e who attacked Dira!”

“Summer Walker in the flesh,” a tall guy sneered, kicking the door shut behind them. “Smile for the live stream, bitch.”

Chaos erupted. They swarmed like locusts.

I backed toward the kitchen counter, hands raised. “Get out! This is my home. Get the hell out!”

A girl with braids laughed bitterly, flipping her phone to capture my face up close. “Your home? After what you did today? You don’t deserve to breathe the same air as us. Dira’s face is all over the internet because of you!”

“I didn’t do anything!” My voice cracked with desperation. Tension coiled in my chest, tight enough to snap. “It was staged! Someone is blackmailing—”

“Save the lies,” the tall guy cut me off, shoving past me to grab a framed photo of me and Clyde from the shelf. He smashed it against the wall. Glass shattered. “We saw the livestream. You were dragging her, making her beg. Pathetic.”

Another intruder—a stocky boy in a varsity jacket—knocked over a chair, then yanked open drawers, scattering papers and Clyde’s school notes across the floor. “This is what happens when trash tries to act like she belongs at NYU.”

I lunged for the phone in Pink Hair’s hand. “Stop recording! Please, just leave us alone!”

She jerked away, laughing. “Oh, now she wants privacy? After ruining Dira’s life on camera? Too late, Walker.”

The tension in the room was suffocating, thick with their hatred and my rising panic. I could feel their eyes devouring every inch of my fear. My back hit the counter. No weapon, no escape. They were everywhere.

“Why are you doing this?” I demanded, voice trembling but loud. “You don’t even know me. You’re just believing a edited video—”

“Shut up!” Braids Girl slapped me hard across the face. The sting exploded across my cheek. “We know enough. You’re the campus parasite. The ghetto w***e pretending to be a music student. Yeah, the rumors are out now.”

My blood ran cold. How much did they know?

The tall guy grabbed my arm, yanking me toward the center of the room. “Let’s give the internet what they really want. Drag her outside. Let everyone see the real Summer Walker.”

I struggled, twisting against his grip. “Let go! I’ll call the police—”

“Go ahead,” he taunted, tightening his hold until it bruised. “By the time they get here, we’ll be gone. And you? You’ll be trending for all the wrong reasons.”

They dragged me toward the door. I dug my heels in, panic turning to raw terror. “Please—my brother lives here. He’s just a kid. Don’t do this!”

Pink Hair shoved me from behind. “Should’ve thought of that before you put your hands on Dira. Karma’s a bitch.”

Outside in the dimly lit hallway, they pushed me to the ground. The concrete bit into my knees. Phones surrounded me in a deadly circle, lights blinding.

“Beg like you made Dira beg!” someone yelled.

I looked up, breathing ragged. Tears burned my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. “I’m not begging any of you. This isn’t justice. This is bullying. You’re all just pawns in someone else’s game.”

Braids Girl kicked me in the side. Pain flared through my ribs. I gasped, curling instinctively. “Pawns? We’re the ones exposing you!”

Another kick landed, then punches. I stopped fighting back after the third blow, realizing I am outnumbered. My body screamed, but my mind detached. Maybe this is for the best. If they beat me badly enough, I wouldn’t have to go to the club tonight. Wouldn’t have to face Mr. Robert. Wouldn’t have to keep lying to everyone.

“Hit her harder!” the tall guy encouraged. “Make sure the video shows what happens to people like her.”

I tasted blood in my mouth. A fist connected with my jaw. Stars burst behind my eyes. Their voices blurred into a hateful roar—w***e, psycho, liar, trash—each word cutting deeper than the physical blows.

Finally, they stepped back, laughing and high-fiving as they checked their live views. “That’s enough. She looks like s**t now.”

“Yeah, trending material for sure.”

They filed out, still recording, leaving the door wide open. Their footsteps echoed down the stairs like retreating demons.

I lay there on the cold floor, every breath agony. Blood trickled from my split lip. Ribs throbbed, one eye was swelling shut. I crawled painfully toward my phone, which had been kicked into the corner. My fingers shook as I dialed Amanda.

It rang twice.

“ Girl, what’s wrong?” Her voice was sharp with worry.

“Amanda…” My voice came out weak, broken. “They came… to the apartment. Beat me. Please… come get me. I can’t… I can’t move much.”

“s**t! I’m coming right now. Stay on the phone with me. Lock the door if you can. What the hell happened? Is this because of that stupid livestream?”

I coughed, tasting more blood. “Yeah… school stuff. They saw the video. Thought they were… delivering justice.” A bitter laugh escaped, turning into a groan of pain.”

“I Hang on, okay? You’re not alone in this.”

Her voice was the only anchor as I dragged myself back inside and pushed the door mostly shut. Minutes felt like hours. Every sound made me flinch—footsteps in the hall, distant sirens. What if they came back? What if this was just the beginning, like the text said?

Amanda arrived in record time, bursting through the door with wide eyes. “Oh my God, Summer!”

She dropped to her knees beside me, hands hovering like she was afraid to touch. “Your face… your ribs. We need a hospital.”

“No hospital,” I rasped, gripping her arm. “They’ll ask questions and report it. Then the dean finds out… my scholarship is already gone. Just… take me to your place, please.”

Amanda’s eyes filled with tears, but her jaw set with determination. “Fine. But I’m not leaving you like this. Can you stand?”

With her help, I staggered to my feet. Pain lanced through me with every step. She grabbed a bag, threw in some clothes and my charger, then supported most of my weight down the stairs.

In the car, the silence stretched, broken only by my shallow breaths.

“Who were they?” Amanda asked quietly, eyes on the road. “Students?”

“Yeah. Angry ones. They think I’m the villain. After today’s mess with Dira… it snowballed.” I winced as we hit a bump. “Someone’s orchestrating all of it. The texts, the videos, now this. I’m trapped, Amanda.”

She glanced at me, voice tight with anger and fear. “You need to tell George, or Kingsley. Hell, the police. You can’t keep carrying this alone.”

I shook my head slowly. “Telling them makes it worse. They’ll get hurt too." I painfully said, and slowly slipped into darkness.