How It Ends Page 9

  I could feel the sweat beading on my face. I had to escape. I had to get out of there.

  I was sure all eyes were on me, but I couldn’t stop to explain. I grabbed my bag and ran for the door, holding my hand over my mouth like I was going to be sick. Miss Donaghue could draw her own conclusions.

  I heard her shouting after me, but I burst through the classroom door and ran down the hallway. I had no idea where to go. I just knew I needed to be away from everyone. I had an Ativan in my bag. The emergency pill my mother lets me carry. I just needed a private space and the magic pill, and I’d be okay.

  I ran down the stairs and out onto the field. Under the bleachers was perfect. No one would find me there. I skidded into a far corner and wrenched open my bag. I knew the pill container was tucked away in there somewhere.

  I dumped everything out onto the dirt. My binders, wallet, textbooks, tampons . . . everything lay jumbled among the candy wrappers and cigarette butts that littered the ground. No pill container. Crying in great, heaving gasps, I shook my bag and heard the reassuring sound of the little pill rattling. My fingers found the zipper to an inside pocket and yanked it open. Thank God.

  I wrenched the top off the bottle, and the pill flew out.

  “Fuck!” I screamed so loud I’m sure they must have heard me back at school. I groped around in the dirt and found the tiny pill under a gum wrapper. I snatched it up and pushed it under my tongue before I could think about the disgustingness it had been sitting in. Then I sank to my knees and waited, trying hard to take breaths as deep as I could muster.

  It took about twenty minutes, but eventually my heart slowed down and my sobs subsided. I had the lingering feeling that I might throw up, but the panic was gone.

  I looked around drowsily, fresh tears in my eyes. Why was I so messed up? How did I go from sitting in English class to sobbing under the bleachers, eating a pill out of the dirt?

  God, I hate being me.

  Annie

  I’m packing up to head to Jessie’s house when Larissa’s text comes in:

  911. Meet at Court’s in 1 hour.

  I squint and double-check the message. 911? I really hope she’s exaggerating.

  I fire off a text to Courtney. Plans tonight. What’s L’s emergency?

  I’ve been looking forward to sleeping over at Jess’s house all week. We have a hardcore movie night planned—chick flicks from dusk till dawn. We’re in competition to see who can choose the cheesiest romantic comedy ever made, and I’m pretty sure I’ve got this locked down after raiding Madge’s stash of old DVDs. My overnight bag is packed full of junk food and fashion magazines, and Jess has promised a full-on girly spa experience, with mud masks and manicures. Our goal is to have the world’s most stereotypical slumber party.

  No clue, Courtney writes back. But she was crying when she called to come over.

  I toss my phone onto the bed and pace my room. I can’t just cancel on Jess. She’s expecting me any minute. But this isn’t like Larissa. God, what if Jon broke up with her? My stomach clenches thinking about how heartbroken she’d be.

  If we meet at Courtney’s at seven, I could probably stay till eight or eight thirty and still make it to Jessie’s before nine o’clock.

  I text Courtney back. I’ll be there, but I can’t stay long.

  L’s sleeping over. Stay as long as you can.

  I take a deep breath and pull up Jessie’s number, then freak out before dialing. I hate lying, but there’s no way I can tell her that I’m going over to Courtney’s. She’ll never understand the reasons why. I send a text instead: Family crap here and I’m stuck for a bit. Be there by 9?

  My hands sweat while I wait for her reply.

  Everything ok? she asks.

  I am the worst friend in the world. Yeah. Just annoying. I’ll be there as soon as I can.

  Admit it . . . you’re just having trouble coming up with cheesy movies and you know you’re gonna LOSE.

  I laugh. No way, Avery. You’re going DOWN.

  I look up and down Courtney’s street while I wait for her to answer the door. I’m terrified that Jess will spot me somehow. She lives only a few blocks away.

  Courtney whips open the door, and I can hear Larissa’s sobs all the way down the hallway.

  “Oh, thank God,” Court says, spotting my overnight bag. “I’m so glad you decided to sleep over. She’s a wreck.”

  Shit.

  “This?” I ask, sizing up my bag and stalling for time. “I just . . . it’s for just in case.”

  “Yeah, well, this is officially the ‘just in case’ situation. Larissa’s slobbering all over me, and I can’t get her to calm down enough to tell me what’s wrong. I don’t do this emotional shit. You need to get back there now.”

  It takes us twenty minutes and two rum and Cokes to calm Larissa down. I’m watching the clock and freaking out, murmuring encouraging words out loud while screaming in my head.

  “What happened, Liss?” I ask, rubbing her back and praying it doesn’t set off another round of sobbing.

  She hiccups and swipes at her tearstained cheeks. “It’s . . . it’s . . . my mom.”

  She sits up straighter and takes a long sip from her drink.

  “You know how my mom’s been working a lot, right?”

  Courtney nods her head in response. They’ve obviously had this discussion before.

  “Well, I wanted to Google showtimes for the movies tonight and her phone was on the coffee table, so I figured I’d just use it instead of hunting for mine.” A tear rolls down her cheek. “There was a text sitting there from a guy named Josh. I just had this feeling, you know? So I opened her messages, and there were a ton from him. You guys, she’s having an affair. For real.”

  I can’t think of a single thing to say. I just sit there blinking at Larissa in shock. Luckily, Courtney is as unfazed as ever. “What do you mean for real? Are you absolutely positive?”

  “Um, yeah. I’m gonna need therapy for the stuff I saw on there.”

  “Like sex talk?”

  “And pictures.” Larissa shudders.

  “All right, Mrs. Riley!” Courtney jokes, bumping her shoulder against Larissa’s. “Is this Josh guy hot?”

  Larissa laughs through her tears. “Not funny, Court! This is my mom we’re talking about. What do I do? Do I tell my dad? Confront my mom? Pretend like nothing’s wrong?”

  “You do nothing,” Courtney says, like it’s obvious. “It sucks you saw that, but you have a good thing going with your parents still together. You don’t want to mess with that.”

  “So I just ignore the fact that my mom is cheating and pretend everything is fine?”

  Courtney shrugs. “The worst thing that ever happened to me was my dad leaving. I haven’t seen him in years. It fucked everything up—for me and for my mom. You don’t want to go through that, Liss. I say you just let things play out between your parents and stay out of it.”

  “What would you do, Annie?” Larissa asks.

  “I don’t know,” I say honestly. “I mean, if it was my stepmother, I’d happily tell my dad. I’d love to find a reason to break them up. But if it was my mom, it’d be another story. I’d feel like she cheated on me, too. Like she’d cheated on our whole family.”

  “Exactly!” Larissa cries. “That’s exactly how I feel.”

  I go on, feeling like I’m helping. “Maybe tell your mom you found the texts and see what she says. Maybe things aren’t as bad as they seem.”

  “Maybe . . .” she says doubtfully. “My mom’s not the sit-down- and-talk-about-it type, you know?” She takes a deep breath and forces a smile onto her face. “Sorry for bumming you guys out. You probably both had plans for tonight. It means a lot to me that you dropped everything to be here.”

  She gives us each a sloppy hug, and the bottom drops out of my stomach. I check the clock: eight thirty. I can still make this work. We just have to keep her calm until all that rum hits her. I’ve seen Larissa drunk often enough to know th
at she’ll pass out on the couch, and then I’ll be able to make a break for it, guilt-free.

  “You’re not bumming us out,” I assure her. “It’s actually kind of a relief to know that my family’s not the only messed-up one.”

  “Your stepmother sucks, huh?” Courtney says.

  “Pretty much. She kind of swooped in on her broom and took over the family.”

  “Bitch,” Courtney pronounces, clinking her glass against mine. I look down at my untouched rum and Coke and check the clock again. Maybe just one drink before Jessie’s. The stress of trying to keep everyone happy is killing me tonight.

  “What’s Sophie like?” Larissa asks. “She’s so ridiculously gorgeous. Don’t you just hate her?”

  “Sometimes.” My mind wanders back to the night of the party. “But sometimes she surprises me, you know? I wish we were closer. It’s just weird becoming insta-sisters. There are all these expectations about how we should be, and we’re not like that at all.”

  I settle back on the couch and pull my feet up. It feels good to talk about this stuff.

  We chat about Sophie for a while, then about how creepy Courtney thinks her mom’s new boyfriend is, and then about the counseling sessions Larissa’s little brother has to attend for anger management. I feel the pressure in my chest loosening as I listen to them bitch about their family dramas. It’s such a relief to talk with people who get dysfunction. Jessie’s fairy-tale home life makes me feel like shit sometimes. Jessie.

  Oh my God.

  I root around in my bag, hunting for my phone. “Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit!”

  It’s 10:13, and there are five texts from Jessie.

  You still coming?

  It’s getting late.

  You ok?

  Where are you?

  Text me back—I’m worried about you!

  I let out a low moan that makes Larissa giggle. Clearly we should have cut her off several drinks ago.

  “I have to go,” I tell them, scrambling to get my stuff together.

  “What’s wrong?” Courtney asks, eyes narrowed. “You’re not ditching us to go out with Scott, are you?”

  “What? No! I was supposed to . . .” I consider making up a lie, but I’m so damn tired of lying. “I was supposed to sleep over at Jessie’s tonight, but I came over here first to make sure Larissa was okay, and now I’m so late and she’s gonna be pissed.”

  I text Jess back while I talk. SO SO SO sorry. Things are dragging on longer than I thought. Can you forgive me?

  Larissa looks like she’s going to start crying again. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

  I shrug and check my phone. Nothing from Jess.

  “Okay,” Courtney says, putting her drink down and leaning forward. “This is going to make me sound like a total bitch, but I have to ask: What’s the deal with you and Jessie?”

  “What do you mean?” I ask absently, staring at my phone and willing a response to come up. Please please please.

  “Why are you freaking out? So you came over here to hang out with friends and got caught up. Who cares?” Courtney gathers up our glasses and heads for the kitchen.

  I send another text. Jess? You there?

  “Sorry, Liss,” I say, giving her a hug. “I really have to go.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m glad you came.”

  Courtney comes back in just as I’m hoisting my bag onto my shoulder. She has three fresh drinks in her hands, and she rolls her eyes when she sees me getting up to leave. “Just text her back and tell her you can’t come,” she says. “It’s so fucked up that she has you on such a short leash.”

  I blink in surprise at the nastiness of her tone. “I’m not on a short leash,” I say as my phone dings. “I had plans with her. I wouldn’t ditch you or Liss, so why should I ditch her?”

  I check my phone for Jessie’s reply. Sorry! Dozed off. Everything ok?

  Tears well in my eyes. Everything’s fine. I can come now if you want.

  Everyone’s asleep here. Things ok at home?

  Yeah. Feel terrible about tonight.

  Just glad you’re ok. Talk tomorrow?

  Love you, I write, choking on a sob. Jess is the most purely good person I’ve ever met, and I’m a total shithead for tonight.

  Love you too.

  “Seriously?” Courtney snaps, looking over my shoulder.

  I throw my phone down, suddenly furious. “Why do you hate her so much?”

  “Whoa!” Courtney says, putting her hands up in defense. “Who said I hated her? I’m just pissed because this is the shit she always pulls. We’ve known Jess a lot longer than you. She even used to be friends with us a million years ago, did she tell you?”

  “That’s not the way she remembers it. She said you guys bullied her back in middle school.”

  Courtney groans. “Of course she did. She’s so melodramatic. Do you want to hear what really happened?”

  I flop down on the couch, my heart throbbing. I don’t really want to sit here and listen to Courtney badmouth Jess, but I do want to fix what’s broken between them. This all seems so stupid, hanging on to petty shit from years ago. I just want everyone to get along so I don’t need to sneak around anymore.

  “Look,” Courtney says, offering me a drink as a peace offering, “I know Jessie’s your friend. I get that. She’s nice, and she means well.”

  I take the drink and nod at her to continue.

  “She’s just not my kind of person. I find her really annoying and clingy, and I can see her getting that way with you and it bugs the shit out of me.”

  I raise an eyebrow at her, but she continues before I can object.

  “You have to admit that she doesn’t fit in with us,” Courtney says. “She’s too . . . sensitive. She gets offended by the tiniest things, and she blows everything out of proportion. We tried being friends with her in middle school, but she was just such a drag all the time. She used to make us feel guilty about everything. So we started hanging out without her and giving her signs that we didn’t want her around. She wouldn’t take the hint, though, and would still tag along no matter what. So we started to get more and more obvious to push her away.”

  “It wasn’t nice, some of it,” Larissa said. “I still regret that. But at the time it seemed like the only way to get through to her.”

  “I’m not saying we handled it in the most mature way,” Courtney says with a laugh. “But at the time it seemed nicer than just saying ‘Get lost, we don’t want to be friends with you.’ When she finally clued in, though, she went nuts. She told her mother we were bullying her, and I got hauled into the office with my mom. It was awful. Mom was still depressed about my dad leaving, and she totally lost it on me. I wanted to smack Jess, I was so mad.”

  Courtney sets her drink down and gives me a searching look. “I don’t want to be a bitch about someone you like, but I can’t stand her. I haven’t liked her since that day in seventh grade, and I don’t like her now.”

  I rub my hands over my face. “You guys are killing me with this drama.”

  Courtney shrugs. “I just thought you should hear both sides of the story.”

  “I’m not saying you’re wrong or that Jessie’s right. You’re both hurt and pissed off for legit reasons. But people change, Court. Maybe it’s time you gave her another chance.”

  Larissa nods, but Courtney shakes her head.

  “Just hear me out. I love Jess. Yes, she can be needy and she’s not into some of the things we’re into, like parties or hanging out at the mall—”

  “Or basically anything fun,” Courtney interrupts.

  I shoot her a look. “But she’s a great friend. She’s loyal and smart and so, so funny.”

  I look at their dubious faces. “Listen, I really like you guys and I really like Jess. Life would be a hell of a lot less awkward if you could all try to like each other. You don’t have to be her best friend, or even invite her to parties or anything, but it would mean a lot to me if we could all eat lunch toget
her and play nice.”

  Larissa bites her lip and looks at Courtney. “What do you think?”

  “Please, Court?” I say. “Give her a chance. Things are different now. It’s not seventh grade anymore.”

  “Oh, fine,” Courtney huffs. “I’ll play nice with Jess. But I’m doing this for you, Annie. I don’t like her, but I can be pleasant.”

  “Yes!” I squeal as Courtney shoots me an exasperated look.

  I settle back on the couch, feeling infinitely better. Maybe tonight worked out for the best. Yes, I missed the sleepover at Jess’s, but I managed to smooth things over with Courtney. Now I just have to work on Jess, but that should be a walk in the park.

  Jessie

  All I wanted was two more pills. Just two. I didn’t even plan on using them. I just needed to know I had them.

  I waited until after dinner to sneak into my parents’ room. Mom was doing dishes, and Dad was on the phone in his home office.

  Mom keeps my prescriptions locked in the medicine chest in their bathroom, but I know exactly where she keeps the key.

  I tiptoed over to her jewelry box, listening to the noises in the kitchen that told me I was still safe. In the bottom drawer, the lining pulls away, and that’s where she hides the key. I noticed her putting it away months ago and stored the memory away in case I ever needed it.

  I stole into their bathroom and slipped the key into the lock. I hadn’t realized how tense I was until the key turned with a little click and relief flooded through my body. Just two pills, I decided. Mom will never notice two pills.

  There was a jumble of prescription bottles on the top shelf—mine, my mom’s, and my dad’s. I fumbled through them as quickly as I could, nervous that I’d be caught before I could find the Ativan. My fingers closed around the bottle when—

  “What are you doing in here? Oh my God! I knew it! I knew those pills were a bad idea!” Mom’s shriek was like an explosion in the tiny bathroom. You’d think she’d caught me shooting up heroin, the way she was freaking out.

  “It’s not what you think, Mom,” I said, holding up the bottle and backing away from her. “I just need another one or two for my emergency pill bottle.”