How It Ends (18 page)

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 shake my head, frustrated. “It wasn't right. I couldn't capture you.” This feels important somehow. “It's like you have a shield up. Like I can't crack through to the real you.”

“Or maybe you just never looked hard enough.”

I let my head fall back. Here it comes. The guilt trip.

“I just don't get it, Annie,” she says. “I don't understand why you don't miss me the way I miss you. And I really don't understand why you'd rather hang out with Courtney and Larissa than with me.”

“Jessie, give me a break.”

“What? I'm being serious. I just want to know!”

“I didn't choose them over you. You're choosing avoiding them over me!”

“That doesn't even make any sense.”

“It does! You're the one who walked away. You're so stubborn about not forgiving them for something that happened in seventh grade that you would deny yourself all the fun just to make a point.”

“They're horrible to me, Annie. I don't know how you can just forgive them for that. If someone had tormented you throughout middle school, I wouldn't betray
you
by going out and making friends with them.”

“I'm not
betraying
you, Jess. You're so melodramatic! Court and Larissa
apologized
to you and are trying to make it up to you. You just refuse to listen.”

“Yeah, right. You
heard
what Courtney said to me. You see how she treats me. And you think I should be okay with it just because she's
Courtney.
I'm sorry, Annie, but I don't see this fabulous person that you claim is underneath all her bitchiness. I just see a bitch.”

I look at her, standing there with her hands on her hips, full of self-righteous anger. She suddenly feels so far away, and it makes me sad. “You want to know the truth, Jess?” I ask softly. “I
do
miss you. But not this you. I miss my friend from the beginning of school. The one who knew how to let loose and have a good time. The one who was adventurous and smart and funny. We don't
laugh
together anymore. Doesn't that bother you?”

Her lips go white. “We don't do
anything
together anymore, Annie,” she says. “
That's
what bothers me.”

“How can you even say that? I'm here
right now,
Jessie. Right now! And all you want to do is talk about Courtney and make me feel guilty for having other friends. You make it so much
work
to spend time with you. I feel like I'm always walking on eggshells—like if I do or say the wrong thing, you'll get upset. And it's not fair that you're making me choose between spending time with you and being friends with Courtney and Larissa. If you weren't so stubborn, we could all be friends.”

“They don't want to be friends with me, Annie! And I don't want to be friends with them. Why can't you see that? Why are you trying so hard to force me to play nice with people who have been awful to me? I don't
want
to forgive and forget. I just want to move on and make friends I can trust.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“You see it, Annie. I know you do. You sit by and watch Courtney treat me like garbage and you do
nothing
about it. No, sorry—you make
me
feel guilty and like it's my fault. I don't like them, Annie, and I don't like who you're becoming when you're around them.”

My whole body goes cold. “What I
see,
Jess, is a bunch of people who are bringing you into their group and treating you like anyone else. They're not handling you like you're fragile or damaged goods, which seems to be what you want in some kind of fucked-up way. You need to stop playing the victim all the time and crying every time someone looks at you sideways.” I'm so furious with her that my hands are shaking. “You're right, I don't rush to defend you or fight your battles for you. And do you want to know why? Because I see you as a strong and capable person, Jess, not as a pathetic loser who can't stand up for herself.”

Her head snaps back as though I hit her. “I'm not
playing the victim.
I
am
the victim. And I can't believe you're blaming me for getting picked on. You're not the person I thought you were, Annie.”

“You know what, Jess? Neither are you.”

I want to throttle her for being this way. I storm to the door, bumping her shoulder on the way. “You're being a baby,” I tell her. “I hope you know that.”

“And you're ditching the best friend you'll ever have. You know, this pathetic place you want to escape from was here for you when you were lonely and sad about how things were going at home. I can't believe you'd just leave me and forget all the times I was there for you.”

I go still, my hand on the doorknob. “I'm not forgetting those times at all. I wish you were still that same friend, but you're not. You've changed, Jessie. You're so busy keeping score of all the ways people are doing you wrong that you have no time left to be a friend to anyone.”

I wrench open the door and walk out of her room without looking back. I'm done with feeling guilty.

I was drifting in and out of sleep when the lights suddenly snapped on and my mother's voice filled the room.

“We need to talk.”

I forced one eye open and groaned as the light assaulted my tired brain. “I'm napping.”

“I can see that. It's four thirty in the afternoon and you've been in bed all day. Enough of this. What's going on?”

“It's nothing, Mom.”
It's everything.

Ever since my big fight with Annie, the days have been sliding past each other. It's like I'm floating above myself, watching some girl who looks like me screw up her life. Second semester is turning into an unholy mess, and yet I'm just drifting through the days without really caring.

“It's
not
nothing,” my mom snapped, her arms crossed over her chest. “It's Annie, isn't it?”

I rolled over, hiding my face from her. “No.”

“Jessie. You know, we're not blind here. Annie hasn't been over since she ran out of here weeks ago. What's going on?”

I considered my options. What answer would make her go away soonest?

“We're just having a fight. It's not a big deal, and I can handle it myself.”

She sat down beside me on the bed. I felt almost repulsed by her and wondered what was wrong with me. “What did you fight about? Talk to me, Jess.”

Yeah, right.

That was a minefield I didn't want to navigate. There were too many areas for her to find fault with. I wasn't ready to hear that I was wrong. Not even a little bit.

“It was stupid. We'll work it out.”

“I don't think so. I've spoken with Dr. Morgan, and we feel you're showing signs of depression.”

That woke me up fast. “What happened to you taking a step back and letting me manage myself? You have no right to talk about this stuff behind my back.”

“I have
every
right, Jessica. When you stop taking care of yourself and start letting your health suffer, it's my job as a parent to step in. Now, you're either going to talk to me, or I'll book you an appointment with Dr. Richards, but I will
not
sit back and watch you let your health suffer.”

“This is exactly the kind of thing that makes me not want to talk to you!”

“What kind of thing? Me
caring?
You talk all the time about how no one in Annie's family cares about her. You'd think you would be appreciative of having a family that
does
care.”

“You go beyond caring, Mom.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“You interfere. You've interfered since day one. I just want to handle this on my own.”

“You're doing a fabulous job,” she said. “You've stopped eating, studying, and interacting with other people. Clearly I'm not needed here.”

“You have no magic cure, Mom. What are you going to do, call up Annie's parents and tell them to make her play with me? It's complicated, Mom. It's high school.”

“I'm aware of high school, Jess. I went there myself, you know.”

“Yeah, like five hundred years ago.
And
you were pretty and popular.
And
you had a boyfriend. Your life was easier than mine.”

The fight went out of her a bit. “I'm not saying your life isn't hard, Jess. I
know
it is. That's why I want to help.”

I stared hard at her, seething.

“It's incredibly painful when friendships fall apart. But I know one thing: you and Annie fit together so well. You really care about each other. Things will work out.”

“How? How will they work out?”

“I think it might be time for you to tell Annie about your anxiety.”

“What? God, no!”

“I don't know what you girls fought about, but I'm sure there are many things about you that are puzzling for Annie. She's expecting you to react like anyone else, without understanding your situation or limitations.”

“My
limitations?
” My fury was white-hot. “I'm not a
freak,
Mom. And there's no reason Annie needs to know anything about my anxiety. It has nothing to do with why we fought. Telling her about that stuff wouldn't fix anything. It would just complicate things.”

“Just hear me out. You and Annie are like puzzle pieces. From the first time I met her, I saw how well the two of you fit together. You snapped into place and complemented each other perfectly. High school is a messy time, and your puzzle has gotten all jumbled up. But I have every faith that with a little effort, the pieces will fall back into place. For you, that effort might mean being brave enough to show Annie the real you. Annie loves you. I know that. Telling her about your anxiety will show her that you trust her, and it'll give her the chance to understand you better.”

Things are so simple in my mom's world. “I'll think about it,” I lied. I didn't bother to tell her that the real reason our pieces don't fit together anymore is that pieces from other puzzles have snuck their way into our box. Courtney, Larissa, Scott . . . they don't belong in our puzzle, and it's become impossible to sort it all out and see what belongs and what doesn't. Annie is stubbornly holding on to all these misfit pieces, trying to force them to fit. She won't listen to me when I tell her it's not right.

My heart plummets as Mrs. Avery swings her car into my driveway. I really, really,
really
don't want to do this.

I take deep breaths as I walk down the front steps and climb into her car. This is going to be a disaster. I'm sure Jess has told her about all the things I said during our fight, and I'm so ashamed that I can't even look Mrs. Avery in the eyes.

“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me,” she says. “I thought we'd go back to the same coffee shop we went to in the fall. Does that sound okay?”

I nod and squirm in my seat. She doesn't
seem
angry with me. I sneak a peek at her as she drives and silently curse Jess for crying to her mom about our fight. How am I going to explain myself to Mrs. Avery?

By the time we sit down with our drinks, my heart is beating so fast that I'm afraid I might faint.

Mrs. Avery frowns at me over the top of her coffee cup, and I'm convinced that she hates me. “I don't know if I'm doing the right thing talking to you, Annie,” she begins, “but I feel like there are some things about Jessie that you should know.”

I blink in confusion. “Is she okay?”

“She's taking the fight you two had very hard, but that's not the reason I brought you here to talk. I'd like to explain some things about Jessie that might make you understand her a little better.”

“So . . . so you're not mad at me?”

“Mad at you? Of course not. Did you think I brought you here to lecture you about the fight?”

I shrug and try to swallow the lump in my throat. “I thought you might be disappointed in me.”

“I was sorry to hear that you and Jessie fought, but I'm not disappointed in you at all. In fact, I think I probably understand where some of the tension between the two of you is coming from.”

She tells me about how Jessie had a kind of breakdown in seventh grade after everything fell apart with Courtney and Larissa. Jess started having panic attacks and refused to go to school. Things got so bad that her parents had to take her to a doctor, and that's how they found out that she was depressed and that she has an anxiety disorder.

“Jessie's social anxiety makes her see judgments from other people even when there are none,” Mrs. Avery explains. “She gets fixated on all the negative things people might think about her, and then she has trouble sorting out whether her fears are realistic or not.”

“So that's why she's always so worried about what Courtney and Larissa think.” I breathe a sigh of relief. “I thought she was just being paranoid. They apologized, and we were all trying to convince her to move on, but she just couldn't let go of the idea that they hate her.”