Page 53 of Seven Lost Summers
“Nate Reynolds. Principal’s office. Now.”
The hall freezes.
Mr. Hanley stands there with his clipboard, his scowl, the same tired bullshit.
Nate doesn’t move.
He just stands there, blood drying on his knuckles, fury still burning in his eyes. Slowly, he turns his head, his gaze landing on me first.
“You good?” His voice is steady, that rare version of him that only comes out when shit gets real.
I nod. “Yeah.”
His eyes move to Quinn. “You alright?”
She shrugs, a small lift of her shoulders. “Fucker had it coming.”
Nate’s mouth twists into a smile that never reaches his eyes. Then his gaze shifts to Bianca, watching her for a beat.
“You deaf, Reynolds?” Mr. Hanley barks again.
Only then does Nate turn and step away.
The hallway parts around him, students pulling back as if he might swing again. Jocks step aside. Cheerleaders hold their breath. Every eye tracks him, heads turning, too scared to look away. He walks straight ahead, spine rigid, silent.
Bianca pulls me forward, and my legs move on instinct.
We leave the hall, leave Quinn, leave the echo of Nate’s punch and the burn of a hundred stares behind us.
We slip down a side corridor, out of sight. Past the lockers and peeling posters, until we’re tucked behind the stairwell, hidden from them all.
Bianca lifts her hand, her fingers brushing my jaw.
I freeze.
“Do you know what I see?” she asks.
I shake my head.
“I see someone who’s been surviving for too fucking long. Someone who’s been told he’s nothing so many times he started to believe it. But you’re not nothing, Theo. You’re everything.”
My throat tightens. I stare at her, frozen, unable to speak.
“Do you even see it?” she whispers. “What I see when I look at you?”
“No.”
“I wish you did. I wish you could see yourself through my eyes for one fucking second. You’d never believe you were nothing again.”
She steps closer, and her necklace shifts with the movement, swinging forward—silver angel wings, tarnished at the edges. The chain catches the weak light spilling through the high windows.
She always wears it.
I’ve seen it a hundred times. Wrapped around her throat in class. Tucked into her shirt when she plays. Catching against her collar bone when she laughs. It’s always there. Always part of her.
“You’re beautiful, you idiot,” she says, almost laughing, though her eyes shine. “And you’re funny. So fucking funny I can’t wait to hear what comes out of your mouth next. Quinn sees it. Nate sees it. The only ones who don’t are those fuckers who were never worth a damn anyway.”
She notices my eyes on the wings and a small smile tugs at her mouth.
