“E-everyone hates me,” I whisper.
He frowns, shaking his head. “That’s not true.”
“It is. I’m not exaggerating. G-genuinely tens of thousands of people hate me.” I cover my face with my hands. “God.” I feel like I’m sinking. I can’t catch my breath.
“Summer.” Alec’s voice is oddly soft. “No. No one could hate you.”
That makes me laugh. “Youhate me,” I point out, choking with tears. “You’ve w-wanted me gone s-since you m-met me.” He goes very still, a small noise falling from the back of his throat.
I hear footsteps skidding down the corridor and then Fraser’s voice in the doorway. “What is— Oh,honey.” He kneels next to me. “Hey, baby. It’s okay. Come here.” He pulls me into his lap, wrapping me up in his arms. I’m so embarrassed.
“I’m s-sorry.” I hiccup. “I’m fine?—”
“Don’t say sorry. Cry it out, it’s okay. Cameron, come do your thing.”
Alec straightens. “I’ll…leave you to it,” he murmurs.
Cameron crouches on my other side. “Can I touch you?” he asks. I nod, and he lays a heavy hand on my back. “There, now,” he says quietly. “Settle down. You’re all right.”
“Aye.” Fraser wipes off my cheeks. “Breathe, sweetheart. Whatever’s up, we’ll fix it.”
Sandwiched between the two men, I slowly manage to get control of my breathing. The floodgates close, and my crying turns to strangled little sobs.
“There we are,” Fraser soothes. “Good lass. It’s all okay.”
I rub my eyes, looking between them. I’m so embarrassed. “Sorry,” I mumble. “I swear I don’t normally do that.”
“No,” Fraser says, his voice getting an edge. “You’re a very sunny, smiley girl who’s always a delight, aren’t you? Always so grateful. Never complaining.” He strokes some wet hair behind my ear. “I think that was something you’ve been shoving down for a long time finally coming out.”
I don’t really know what to say to that.
Cameron stands. “Come on,” he says. He helps me up, gently pushes me onto the bed, and pulls a stack of blankets out of the wardrobe. I sit still as he bundles me up in one. And then another. And then a third. I’m not sure what’s happening.
Fraser sits next to me. “You want to tell us what got you so upset?” he asks as Cameron pulls out another blanket.
“I’m—”
“If you say you’re fine, I will scream,” Fraser warns. “Please tell me. You’re killing me, sweetheart. I’m worried— Cameron, mate, enough. She’s turning to a ball. Summer, are you sure it’s not something we did last night? If we pushed you too far, I don’t…I can’t even begin to say sorry. I thought…” He tugs at his hair.
“No,” I stammer. “God. No. It’s not that.”
“Then what?” Cameron asks darkly. “Because it’s the day after, and you’re on the floor.”
It feels like something inside of me breaks. I am so tired of pretending everything is okay. I have to tell them.
So I do. I tell them about the article. About the replies to my apology post. Fraser takes my phone off me and frowns at it as I explain.
“You said that you were tired and overwhelmed,” Cameron says when I’m done, “and people told you back that you shoulddie?”
I take in a shaky breath. “I’m just…very tired of trying. I try so hard to make everyone like me, and I can’t try any harder, and everyone hates me, and I don’t know what to do.” I cross my arms. “I hate when people don’t like me,” I admit. “It probably makes me pathetic, but it scares me. And my mum’s going tokillme when she sees the video.”
Fraser looks up from my phone. His normally cheerful expression is serious. “Surely not. Your mum will be upset that you’re upset, no?”
I shake my head. “She’s always hated when I cry,” I mumble. “She spends all day with victims of real crimes. She’s always said I have nothing to cry about.” Growing up, she despised how sensitive I was.
Fraser’s incredulous. “Summer, I don’t know anyone whowouldn’tcry in this situation.”
Cameron takes my phone off him and reads the screen. His jaw tightens. “You need to quit,” he says. “You can’t do this anymore.”
