Cruel Summer (Thornhill University #3)

Chapter 1

Ivy

I'm in the middle of explaining campus resources to a group of wide-eyed freshmen when I hear it.

A laugh. Low, familiar, sending ice down my spine.

I know that laugh. I knew it before I learned my own. I can pick that laugh out in the dark, in the specific way it changed when something was genuinely funny versus politely amusing.

I haven't heard it in three years.

"—and the library is open twenty-four hours during finals week," I continue, refusing to turn around. "You'll basically live there by December, trust me."

The freshman orientation group laughs. I'm supposed to be approachable, helpful. The cool mentor who makes Thornhill feel less intimidating.

I'm very good at performing.

"Any questions?" I ask, scanning their faces, carefully not looking behind me where that laugh came from.

A girl raises her hand. "What about Greek life? Is it worth joining?"

I launch into my prepared speech about fraternities and sororities, but my voice sounds distant in my own ears. Because that laugh, it's closer now. Moving through the crowd of orientation leaders and new students in the campus quad.

It can't be him.

He goes to Berkeley. Last I heard, not that I was checking, he was thriving there. Perfect grades, perfect internship, perfect life far away from me.

"—so ultimately it depends on what you're looking for in—"

"Ivy Chen? Is that you?"

The voice cuts through my carefully constructed composure like a knife.

I turn.

And there he is.

Ethan Zhang stands ten feet away, surrounded by a small cluster of students, looking like he stepped out of a catalog for "what successful college guys wear.

" Dark jeans, fitted henley, leather jacket that probably costs more than my textbooks.

His hair is shorter than I remember, styled instead of the shaggy mess he used to have. He's taller, broader, his jaw sharper.

Three years have been very good to him, and I hate it.

Three years ago, he destroyed me.

"Ethan." My voice comes out flat. Controlled. "What are you doing here?"

"Transfer student." He smiles, and it doesn't reach his eyes. Never did when he was lying. "Surprised to see me?"

Surprised. That's one word for the feeling of your entire chest cavity collapsing.

"Thrilled," I say coldly. "Welcome to Thornhill."

The freshmen are watching this exchange with confused interest. The other orientation leaders too. Everyone can feel the tension, thick and dangerous and completely inappropriate for a welcome event.

Ethan's smile sharpens. "Thanks. I'm sure I'll be seeing a lot of you."

I wonder if I can slap him.

"I'm sure you will. Campus is only so big." I turn back to my group, dismissing him. "Anyway, as I was saying—"

"Actually," Ethan interrupts, moving closer. "I'm supposed to shadow a junior mentor today. Get the campus tour, learn the ropes." He holds up a paper. "They assigned me to... let me see... Ivy Chen." He says with a smile.

No.

Absolutely not.

"That's a mistake," I say immediately. "You should request someone else. I'm sure Dylan or Marcus would be happy to—"

"But you're my assigned mentor." His expression is innocent. Mocking. "And I wouldn't want to break protocol on my first day. Would you?"

Asshole. He's doing this on purpose.

"Fine." I force a smile. "Everyone, this is Ethan. He'll be joining our tour. Try not to let his presence lower the collective IQ too much."

A few people laugh nervously. Ethan's jaw tightens, there's the crack in his perfect facade.

Good. If I'm uncomfortable, he should be too.

I finish with the freshmen quickly, answering questions on autopilot while hyperaware of Ethan hovering nearby. He doesn't say anything else, just watches me with those dark eyes that used to know every secret I had.

When the freshmen finally disperse, heading to their next orientation event, I'm left alone with him.

"So," Ethan says casually. "Where should we start the tour?"

"How about we start with why you're really here?"

"I told you. Transfer student—"

"Cut the bullshit." I step closer, lowering my voice. "Berkeley is a better school. You're from California. There's no reason you'd transfer across the country to Thornhill to finish your senior year, unless—"

Unless he came here for me.

The thought is terrifying.

"Unless what?" he challenges. "Unless I wanted to see you? Is that what you think? That I'm still obsessed with the girl who couldn't take a hint three years ago?"

The words land like a physical blow.

The girl who couldn't take a hint.

That's what he called me that night. In front of everyone. When he told me I'd been "following him around like a lost puppy" and he was "tired of being nice about it."

"Fuck you, Ethan."

"Ah, there she is. The real Ivy." He leans against a nearby tree, completely at ease. "For a second, I thought Thornhill had turned you into one of those fake-nice campus ambassadors."

"And for a second, I thought maybe you'd grown up, but you're still the same asshole who—" I stop myself. Won't give him the satisfaction. "You know what? I'm done. Find another mentor."

I turn to leave.

"Can't." His voice stops me. "I specifically requested you. Well, my family made a generous donation and I specifically requested you as my mentor."

I spin back around. "Your family, you told them I'm here?"

"My mother did her research." He shrugs. "She likes to know where everyone from my past ends up. Control issues."

His mother. The woman who always looked at me like I was something stuck to her shoe. The woman who smiled to my face and called me "that restaurant girl" when she thought I couldn't hear.

"So what, you're here to what? Torture me? Remind me I'm not good enough for your world?"

"I'm here for a good education at a prestigious university." He pushes off the tree, closing the distance between us. "The fact that you happen to be here is just an unfortunate coincidence."

"Unfortunate," I repeat. "Right."

"Unless..." He tilts his head. "Unless you're still not over what happened. In which case, this might be awkward."

"I'm completely over it."

"Then there's no problem." He smiles again, sharp and cutting. "We're just two people from the same hometown who happen to attend the same school. Adults. Mature. Capable of coexisting."

He's baiting me. Trying to get a reaction.

I won't give him one.

"Fine. You want the tour? Let's go." I start walking toward the academic buildings. "Try to keep up."

"Oh, I'm very good at keeping up." He falls into step beside me, close enough that I can smell his cologne. Something expensive and unfamiliar. "I've gotten much faster since high school. In a lot of ways."

I ignore the innuendo and launch into my scripted tour spiel. "Thornhill was founded in 1889 by—"

"I read the website. Skip the history lesson."

"The history is important—"

"What's important is where I need to be and when. I don't care about dead founders." He pulls out his phone. "I have Business Administration, Statistics, and Mandarin this semester. Where are those buildings?"

Business Administration. Of course. The same college as me. We'll have overlapping classes, requirements, and professors.

This is a nightmare.

"Business is in Sterling Hall. That building—" I point across the quad. "Statistics is in the math and science complex. And Mandarin is in the language center."

"Show me Sterling."

It's not a request.

I lead him to Sterling Hall, keeping several feet of distance between us. Students pass by, some waving at me, others curious about the new guy. Ethan garners attention, he always did. That particular combination of attractive and untouchable that makes people want to get closer.

"You're popular here," he observes. "Friends with everyone."

"I'm social. Unlike some people."

"I'm plenty social. Just selective about who deserves my time."

"And I didn't deserve it, right? That's what you said. In front of everyone at winter formal."

The words are out before I can stop them.

Ethan goes very still. For just a second, something crosses his face, pain? Regret? Before the mask slides back into place.

"You remember the exact wording. Flattering."

"Hard to forget when someone humiliates you in front of your entire school."

"Maybe you should have taken the hint earlier. Would have saved us both the embarrassment."

I stop walking. Turn to face him fully. "You're really going to pretend that's how it was? That I was some pathetic girl throwing herself at you?"

"Weren't you?"

The question hangs between us, ugly and devastating.

"Go to hell, Ethan."

"Already there, thanks. You're making it very authentic." He brushes past me into Sterling Hall. "I can find my own way from here. Thanks for the tour."

He disappears inside, leaving me standing on the steps, shaking with rage and something dangerously close to tears.

I will not cry over Ethan Zhang.

Not again.

Not ever again.

I pull out my phone and text the group chat with Isla and Lennox: Emergency meeting. My room. Tonight. Bring wine.

Isla: What happened?

Me: Ethan's here. At Thornhill. And he's exactly as horrible as I remember.

Lennox: The ex-best friend? The one who destroyed your senior year?

Me: That's the one. And I think he transferred here specifically to make my life hell.

Lennox: We're on our way. And Ivy? Whatever he's planning, you're not facing it alone.

I stare at the message, something warm and painful lodging in my chest. Because that's the difference between now and three years ago.

Back then, after Ethan's betrayal, I had no one. I was alone, isolated, convinced I'd never trust anyone again.

Now I have Isla and Lennox. Friends who show up. Who believe me, who have my back.

Ethan thinks he can break me again.

He's about to learn I'm not the same girl he destroyed and this time, I'm ready for war.