How It Ends by Catherine Lo (classic novels to read .txt) 📗

I look at Jess and make a decision. If I don’t talk about this, I’ll explode.

“Can I tell you a secret?” I ask, leaning in close to her.

“You know I love secrets,” she says, nodding her head excitedly before noticing something behind me. Her eyes go wide, and I turn to see what’s wrong.

Some random guy has appeared, and he’s shuffling his feet, waiting to talk to us.

“Yes?” I ask impatiently, annoyed at having my big revelation interrupted.

He peers up at Jess, and she smiles awkwardly. “Hi, Jessie,” he says, fidgeting with the strap of his backpack. “I was just wondering if you had a chance to look at the comic I gave you.”

She blushes so hard she almost starts to glow. “Yeah . . . I mean, a little bit.” She looks down, and I can tell she’s lying.

“Well . . .” he says softly. “What did you think?”

“It’s . . . interesting—”

He nods his head slowly, as if he’s trying to decode her answer. I look back and forth between them. What the hell is going on here? How have I never heard of this guy before?

“Hi,” I interrupt, holding out my hand. “My name’s Annie.”

“Charlie,” he says, shaking my hand. Then he turns back to Jessie and opens his mouth to say something else, but he’s interrupted by the bell.

“I have a science test,” she blurts just as he says, “Martins will lock me out if I’m late for math.” They both laugh, and I decide that I’m either in the Twilight Zone or I’ve been living under a rock.

“Who was that?” I ask as we make our way to science.

Jess shrugs and stuffs her notes into her bag. “Just some guy I know from last year.”

“You mean, just some guy who’s totally in love with you.”

She looks at me like I’m nuts. “Bless you for even thinking a guy would be interested in me, but you’re so incredibly wrong that it’s not even funny.”

“Are you blind? He was practically falling all over you.”

Jess gets a weird look on her face and shakes her head. “I think he’s just one of those guys who look like they’re flirting when they’re just being friendly.” She mutters something that sounds a lot like, That’s the only kind of guy I seem to meet.

“What?” I ask.

“Nothing. Besides, I’m pretty sure he has a girlfriend. I’ve seen them eating together at lunch.” She gives her head a little shake and stops walking right outside the science room. “Didn’t you have some big secret you wanted to tell me?”

“Yeah,” I say, my heart sinking as Donaldson appears in the doorway. “But it’ll have to wait till later.”

Jessie

Annie should’ve tried out for the track team, I thought as I trailed her through the cafeteria in my new pair of high-heeled boots.

We arrived at Courtney’s table, and I eased my tray down before collapsing into a chair. The boots are only one of the ways I’m off balance these days. I’ve officially graduated to the cool table in the cafeteria. Well, technically, Annie is the one who graduated, but Courtney has tolerated my presence for a full two weeks now. Being tolerated is a heck of a lot better than being tormented, so I’m doing my best to stay positive.

Which brings me to confession time: I’ve been cheating. There was no way I could’ve pulled off the first few days at Courtney’s table without pharmaceutical support. My mother’s head would explode if she knew, but I’ve taken an Ativan every day before lunch for the past two weeks.

I know, I know. I’m doing all that crap I’m not supposed to do. I’m letting down Dr. Morgan, I’m deceiving my mother, and blah blah blah.

But it’s not like I’m planning on making a habit out of this or anything. It’s been a temporary measure to get me settled in with Courtney and Larissa. I’m already starting to feel more comfortable, and that’s all I needed. Starting tomorrow, I’m going back to my No Ativan rule and no one will be the wiser.

I still have ten pills left. That’s enough for ten anxiety attacks, and there’s no way I’ll have ten anxiety attacks at school this year.

Plus, the way I figure it is, I can only realistically work on one major goal at a time. Dr. Morgan said I should stop avoiding situations that make me anxious, and I’ve made major progress on that goal this week.

The first day I sat at Courtney’s table, I was a nervous wreck. My hands shook so hard that I spilled my Coke, and I was sweating so much that Larissa took one look at me and said, “Ew,” before turning back to Annie and ignoring me for the rest of the lunch period.

I went home in tears and decided it was too hard. There was no way I could go back to sitting with Courtney and Larissa. But I didn’t give up. With the magic of Ativan, I calmed my panic enough to come back a second day, and then a third . . . and now here I am two weeks later, still braving the lion’s den every single day.

“Are you high?” Courtney screeched, shocking me out of my reverie. My heart thudded, and I looked down at myself to see what my latest offense might be. Finding nothing, I peeked in her direction and found with relief that she was tearing into a freshman, and not into me.

Courtney put her fingertips to her temples as though the poor girl’s presence was causing her physical pain. “Where’s the rest of the decorating committee? Get them here now.” The terrified girl scampered off, and Courtney threw her folder full of decorating ideas down on the table in disgust. “Am I the only person with taste in this school?”

I looked away, but not before she caught sight of my horrified expression. “What?” she demanded. “You think I’m being mean?”

I shook my head so fast I made myself dizzy. Proximity to Courtney has not lessened