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

along, but that seemed far too pathetic. It would look like I was waiting for Annie to come back to me, and I could just imagine Courtney’s comments. There was always the old table from last year, too. I could try to slip back into my old group and pray they’d take me back. Kevin would make a scene, but back in October, Charlie had practically begged me to join them. I thought about the day he’d found me in the library, right before my study session with Scott. He gave me that comic he drew and told me I should come meet the new girl at their table.

As soon as I got home from school, I turned my room upside down, hunting for Charlie’s comic. I finally found it under a stack of textbooks and flopped onto my bed to read it. I figured I’d return it tomorrow at lunch as an excuse to join them.

He’s talented, I thought as I took a good look at the cover. He’d drawn the outside of our school, with a crowd of students in front. I recognized Charlie and Kevin with the new girl, and I found Annie and me, our heads bent together as if we were sharing a secret. I felt a throb of sadness at the sight of us looking so happy together, and I fought the urge to text her a picture of the drawing. I knew she’d go wild for his artwork.

I held the book closer to my face and found Courtney and Larissa in the center of the crowd, surrounded by a group of goggle-eyed boys. Typical. Except . . . I squinted at the page. Courtney and Larissa were wearing superhero costumes. Ridiculously over-the-top superhero costumes, replete with sequins, capes, and boob-enhancing tops. Then I noticed the name on the side of the school: Sir John A. Macdonald School for Superheroes in Training.

The story started with Charlie and Kevin sitting in the cafeteria. Charlie had the power to turn invisible, and he was using it to check out his classmates without their noticing. Everywhere he looked, he saw people with incredible powers, like super speed, flying, and telekinesis. He slumped in his chair and moaned to Kevin about how lame his own superpower was in comparison. When he caught sight of me, though, his mood changed. My ability was empathy.

Hardly able to believe his eyes, Charlie found himself drawn to me. “You can see me,” he marveled as he sat down at my table. “You’re the only person who’s ever been able to do that.”

I didn’t share his enthusiasm. “I don’t belong here,” I told him. “This is all a huge mistake.”

As far as I was concerned, empathy was a useless superpower. If anything, it made me miserable. All around me, I could feel the suffering and insecurity and worries of others.

But, it turned out, empathy was something sorely lacking at Sir John A. Macdonald High School. Everyone was so competitive that they’d lost connection with one another. They’d all been so focused on being the hero that they’d lost sight of the fact that they were far more powerful as a team than they ever could be on their own.

I came to the end of the comic and felt surprisingly sad that it was over. I flipped the last page, hungry for more, and found a note Charlie had penned on the back cover:

Jess,

Admit it . . . I was right: one good comic can change your mind.

I see the superhero in you, and I’d love to be your sidekick.

Charlie

He’d written his number under his name, and I ran my fingers over the digits, amazed at how badly I suddenly wanted to call him. My brain was buzzing, and I had so many questions. I wanted to ask him how he did it. How he drew me in and made me believe. And with a comic book, no less. Not to mention the ending. How did he figure out such a perfect ending?

But . . . I’d love to be your sidekick.

I flashed back to the day in the hallway when Charlie interrupted my conversation with Annie to ask if I’d read this comic. What did I say? I remember lying and saying I’d read it. I think I called it interesting. And then I never talked to him again.

Oh God.

He thought I’d read it and dismissed it. He thought I wasn’t interested.

My stomach churned. I couldn’t call him now. He gave me this comic book in October. That was almost three months ago. What would I say to him?

Besides, I thought miserably, he’s with that new girl now. I pictured them sitting in the cafeteria together and felt a wave of jealousy wash over me. How could I have missed this? He’s a storyteller, like me. Or, at least, like I want to be.

I hugged the comic to my chest and wished I could go back and do everything differently. I wasted so much time trying to impress people who hated me that I never gave a second glance to someone who actually liked me.

Annie

I perch on the edge of Jessie’s bed, fighting back tears. I want to ask her why she won’t try harder. Why she’s letting her insecurities about Courtney come between us. I want to ask her why she disappears every day at lunch and has stopped sitting with us entirely. I want to ask her why she messages me and calls me and begs me to come over, then sits there and pouts like I’m the worst friend in the world.

I open my mouth to say all those things, but what comes out instead is “You know, I’ve never been able to draw you.”

“What?”

“I’ve been trying on and off almost since the day we met, but I can’t do it.”

Jess looks confused. “But you did draw me. I saw it. It was the first time you came over here.” She gestures at her bookcase, to where we had sat that afternoon.

I