How It Ends Catherine Lo (the first e reader TXT) 📖

I was the best thing that ever happened to her. She used to come up with all these little adventures we’d go on. Like, this one time she bought a map of the city and designed a scavenger hunt for us. We rode the subway all afternoon, checking items off her list, like getting a picture of a pigeon, picking up five pieces of litter, and finding a street performer who played the harmonica.”

“She sounds very special.”

“She was. Now I feel like someone has pressed the Pause button on my life. No one in my family even notices me anymore, let alone makes me feel important. I feel like the best part of my life died with my mom.”

Mrs. Avery crosses her arms on the table in front of her. Our drinks have gone cold. “Why don’t I talk to your dad?” She holds up a finger when I start to protest. “Not to tell him what you’ve told me. That’s just between us. But to see if he’d be okay with you spending some extra time with us. I’d be happy to do some of the things that you’re missing a mother for—like shopping and talking about school and boys. And if you’d like to trust me with those things, you’re welcome to join Jess and me. What do you think?”

I’m worried that Dad won’t react well to Mrs. Avery telling him I miss my mom, but what the hell, it’s the truth. “Okay,” I say finally.

Jess has no idea how lucky she is. I wish I could trade places with her for just one day. Her mother is fucking unreal.

Jessie

This week was a complete disaster, and it’s left me feeling like the slightest thing might break me.

I skipped science on Monday after seeing Annie and Scott kiss. I just couldn’t face sitting next to him, knowing there was no hope. I’d skip the whole rest of the semester if I could, but my geeky heart hurt from missing class, and I was paranoid that the school would call home. So I gathered my courage and walked into class on Tuesday with as much dignity as I could muster.

I was prepared for Scott to be awkward with me. Or maybe even a little distant. I wasn’t prepared for him to act as if nothing had changed.

“Jess!” He greeted me with a smile that made his eyes sparkle. “Thank God you’re back. There’s a test next Monday. Can we study later this week?”

I will fully confess that I forgot all about Annie in that moment. One look in those deep brown eyes and I had to fight the impulse to crawl into his lap.

“Sure!” I practically yelped, feeling the stirrings of possibility.

“Great. I already asked Annie, and she can make it too,” he said, turning to face Mr. Donaldson as though he hadn’t just ripped my heart out and stomped on it.

On Wednesday, he called me a “good friend” before asking me nine questions about Annie within the first twenty minutes of class. What’s her favorite movie? What kind of music does she listen to? Does she ever talk about me?

On Thursday, Annie went home sick, and Scott put his arm around me and said he loved me before asking what kind of flowers he should send her. Okay, so his exact words were something along the lines of You’re the best, Jess! I love how smart you are, but I got fixated on the love word for so long that I didn’t hear a word Mr. Donaldson said all period.

And then Friday. Friday we ate lunch together, like the messed-up little love triangle we are, and then hit the library to study. Or, rather, I hit the library to study, while Scott and Annie snuck flirty little looks at each other and found about a million reasons to touch. I wanted to stab myself in the eye with my pencil.

I blame the tension from having to deal with them all week for what happened tonight.

Annie and I were playing Would You Rather while we settled in to sleep in my room.

“Would you rather kiss Mr. Donaldson or Miss Donaghue?” Annie asked, laughing.

“Easy. Donaghue.” I dodged the pillow she threw at me.

My turn. “Would you rather wear the exact same clothes to school all week or make out with Andrew Larson?” Andrew Larson has a hideous case of what Annie calls summer teeth—summ’er here, summ’er there.

“Ugh!” Annie groaned. “Good one. Would I have to wear the same underwear too?”

“Yep.”

“How long would we have to make out?”

“Twenty minutes. With tongue.”

“Same clothes all week. No question.”

“Gross!” I teased. She laughed softly and then yawned. I felt so deliciously happy. It was a perfect moment in time plucked out of a hectic and unsettling week. I should have just luxuriated in that moment and fallen asleep content. But I am me, and it seems that I am incapable of just enjoying life.

“One more,” I said, my brain screaming at me to shut up. “Would you rather be best friends with me or with Courtney?”

I don’t know where that came from. I’d intended to say Scott’s name, but Courtney came out instead.

“Jess,” Annie groaned. “Don’t get all weird about Courtney again.”

“Again? When have I been weird about Courtney?”

“Oh. Hmmm . . . let me see . . . how about every day?”

She rolled over so she was facing away from me, and I lay back on my pillow, stewing. Let it go. Let it go. Let it go. I took a few deep breaths and tried the relaxation exercises my therapist showed me years ago. All to no avail. I could feel the sweat beading around my hairline. I dug my fingernails into my palms and tried to hold back the compulsion to continue the conversation. All the words I knew I shouldn’t say were tearing through my brain, howling for escape. It was useless trying to fight it. I knew I’d be up all night if we didn’t talk right then.

“Annie? . . . Annie?”

“Mmmhmmm