How It Ends (13 page)

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 together 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.

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.”

“Why? Why would you need more? You had an anxiety attack, didn't you? Why didn't you tell me?” She was getting hysterical, and my heart started to pound.

“Stop it, Mom! You're freaking me out!”

“I'm freaking
you
out? I catch you in here breaking into the drugs you
know
you're not supposed to take without supervision and
I'm
freaking
you
out?”

I sat down on the side of the bathtub, trying to breathe slowly. Two attacks in two days was more than I could handle. I looked at the bottle in my hand and wondered how ballistic my mother would go if I popped a pill right in front of her.

“Stephen!” she screamed, dropping to her knees in front of me. “Are you okay, honey? Are you having an attack? Do you need an ambulance?”

“No!” I whisper-screamed. “This is
nothing,
Mom. Just leave me alone for two seconds.”

The thought of my dad coming made my heart clench alarmingly in my chest. I needed to be alone, but I was afraid that if I ran off, my mom would call 911 or something equally ridiculous.

My dad sauntered into the bathroom. He knows my mother and her hysteria too well to get worked up until he sees the sight of blood. “Meredith, I swear to God! I was on a conference call. What is the problem?”

“Look at her!” my mother screeched, pointing at me as though I was at death's door. “She's having an anxiety attack and she's sneaking pills.”

“Jesus Christ,” my dad muttered, snatching the pills out of my hand and reading the bottle. “This is her own medication, Meredith. If a doctor prescribed it, she can take it. Do you need one?” he asked me.

I nearly snapped out of the attack from sheer surprise. My dad does not believe in anxiety. He thinks my
issues
are all in my head and that I need to toughen up instead of making excuses and hiding behind imaginary problems.

I shook my head at him. “I'm okay.”

“Good girl.” He turned to my mom. “You. Out!”

“I don't think you understand what's happening here . . .”

“We'll discuss it
in the other room.
”

My dad rarely yells, but when he does, we listen. Mom pursed her lips and looked at me disapprovingly, then relocked her medicine cabinet before following my dad out of the room.

I put my head between my knees and took deep breaths. I could hear Mom and Dad fighting in the next room.

“She's having a
panic attack.
We can't just leave her in there alone.”

“She's having a
panic attack
because you're panicking her. You were so hysterical that I'm pretty sure the neighbors have called the police by now. You need to calm yourself down. Jessica is just fine until you start freaking out.”

“She was sneaking pills, Stephen. Those pills are supposed to be given only under supervision.”

“And did you
ask
her why she was sneaking them?”

“It's because she had a panic attack! I need to find out the details.”

I heard my dad sigh and then I heard the squeak of their mattress as he sat down. “Meredith, I'm going to be very clear about this, and it's something you're not going to want to hear. Jessica is just fine. She's a shy, nervous teenager, not a deranged lunatic. You're turning her into a bundle of nerves with your overreactions. This is a crisis entirely invented by
you.
You're the one who dragged her to the doctor and had her put on medication, and now you're freaking out that she's taking it.
You
are the one with the issues here, not Jessica.”

“You have
never
been supportive of Jessie's mental health issues.”

“Because she
doesn't have any mental health issues!
” Dad roared. “This is getting ridiculous. I have never, not once, seen Jessie out of control. I have, however, seen you out of control when it comes to her. I think
you
are the one who needs a visit to the doctor. Now, I don't want to hear another word about this nonsense. And if you don't stop pathologizing our daughter, I'm going to drive you to the therapist myself. Deal with your own shit, Meredith, and stop dumping it on Jess.”

The door slammed, and I could hear Dad storming down the stairs.

My heart was hammering, but not in an anxiety-attack way. I found that I could breathe deeply, and that my brain was strangely quiet.
My dad thinks this is all my mother's fault.
It was a confusing and depressing thought. Do I blame my mom? That was a question that hurt my heart to ask. So instead I cleared my mind and waited for my mom to come back in.

It took ages.

When she finally walked into the bathroom, her eyes were rimmed in red. She pasted a smile on her face as she picked up the Ativan bottle Dad had left on the countertop. “I'll make an appointment with Dr. Morgan on Monday,” she said brightly. “I think it will work out best if we discuss this with him.”

I nodded, blinking back tears.

Mom kissed me on the forehead. “I'm sorry I got so worked up. I just worry about you.” She brushed her fingers through my hair and looked me hard in the eyes. “Why don't you splash some water on your face and brush your hair. Annie came to the door a few minutes ago, and I told her she could wait in your room.”

My heart wrenched as she walked out of the bathroom. I wanted to talk about what happened—about the things my dad said—but my mom would never do that. She pretends my dad's opinions don't matter, but they do.

I stumbled out of the bathroom, wishing Annie wasn't waiting for me. I was sure she would see the crisis all over my face. I gave her a halfhearted smile as I walked in, waiting for her to ask what was wrong. Instead, she came running up and gave me a huge hug. “I have the
best
news for you. But first I have to tell you something that's gonna piss you off.”

Great.

I blinked at her as she barreled ahead, oblivious to the fact that I'd just had a complete meltdown two rooms away.

“I didn't have a family thing last night,” she confessed. “I spent the night at Courtney's house.”

I felt myself give up. It was the strangest sensation. I'd feared Annie abandoning me for Courtney for so long, and now that it was happening, I couldn't muster the energy to care. All the fight had left me.

I walked over and sat on my bed, looking at Annie through tears of resignation.

“I knew you'd be pissed. I should have just told you the truth. But here's the thing: Courtney and Larissa feel bad about everything that happened in the past, and they agreed to try again.”

Her words made no sense. “Try what again?”

“Being friends. Getting over the past. I know a lot of shitty stuff happened, but I want us all to be friends—to spend time together.”

“And they agreed to that?” I had a feeling Annie wasn't telling the whole story.

She smiled hard. “Yes! That's my great news. We can all eat together and hang out.”

I looked at Annie's bright eyes and wished I could be more like her. In Annie's world, people like me can be friends with people like Courtney. I knew she was wrong. But like I said, I had no more fight left in me.

I'm like one of those bouncy rubber balls I used to get out of the gumball machine at the supermarket. I'm hurtling out of control, bouncing off other people, with no ability to control my own direction.