How It Ends (23 page)

I'd faked a stomachache so I could stay home while my parents went out to dinner. As soon as their car pulled out of the driveway, I turned their room upside down looking for the key to the medicine cabinet. I finally found it under my mother's table lamp.

I was practically hyperventilating, worried that Mom might have thrown out the old prescription when I got my new one. It was right there on the shelf, though. Twelve pretty little white pills. I took five of them and put the rest back. I could make five last.

I'm not proud of myself. This isn't the person I want to be. I want to be honest and trustworthy. Not the kind of girl who steals drugs and breaks the trust of her only friend.

Annie.

I was so scared to go to school this morning. In my rage last night, I felt totally justified telling Scott about Annie. When I woke up this morning, though, I wasn't so sure.

I had a feeling things were going to get ugly today. What if they fought in the cafeteria? What if Annie came to me crying? What if she found out that I stabbed her in the back and she confronted me?

Not to mention my panic about the whole anxiety thing getting out. I was sure everyone would be talking about how I barfed all over Courtney after mixing alcohol with my
crazy girl
medication. Who could resist repeating a story like that?

I spent all night on Facebook and Twitter, searching compulsively for any references to me. Were people laughing at me? Were they saying I'm crazy?

I couldn't find anything, though. It was as if Saturday night never happened. Which was even freakier, somehow. At least if I'd found evidence, I'd know what to expect.

By the time I got to school, I was a jumpy mess. I tried to put my head down and ignore everyone, but all my senses were heightened. I was aware of every whisper, every averted gaze, and every bout of laughter in the halls. My therapist would say that I was interpreting people's actions through the lens of my anxiety and that I should use my strategies to remind myself that their behaviors likely had nothing to do with me at all. But my therapist is pretty much full of crap, because she's never had to walk a high school hallway after being exposed as a freakshow mental case.

The only thing worse than the stares of my fellow students was my worry about the Annie situation. I expected her to be depressed or hysterical or angry. I expected drama. But when I caught sight of her in the hallway, she was walking along with Courtney, laughing.

My first thought was, S
he hasn't talked to Scott yet.

My second thought was,
What a bitch.
Because she should be mad at Courtney for what happened to me at the party. Courtney shamed me and betrayed Annie's confidence. Why were they walking along like nothing had happened?

So much for Annie's whining messages about how much I mean to her.

The anger calmed my nerves, and some of my guilt evaporated.

By second period I was slumped in my seat in history, staring at the back of Annie's head and hating her. She'd been ignoring me the whole class. For someone who claimed to be sorry, she sure wasn't showing it.

My anger bottomed out and was replaced by cold fear when she suddenly went rigid in her chair and started texting frantically. When the bell rang, she gathered up her stuff and made a beeline for the door.

I swung out of my desk and followed her into the hallway, where a familiar-looking girl stepped into my path, making me trip and drop my books everywhere.

“I'm so sorry, Jessie,” she said, bending down to help me gather my stuff.

“It's okay,” I muttered, searching up and down the hallway for Annie. I had no idea which way she'd gone.

I took the last of my books from the girl and started toward the cafeteria, hoping to find Annie there, but the girl stepped back in front of me. “Jessie?”

Oh, great,
I thought as I recognized her. It was the new girl—Charlie's girlfriend. “Yeah?”

“Um . . . my name's Jody. Charlie said he told you about me? I was just wondering if you wanted to sit with us at lunch today.”

“What?” I needed to find Annie, and this Jody girl was seriously starting to annoy me.

“I know you normally eat with Courtney, but I thought you might need someone to sit with today.”

I felt my chest constrict. “Why would you think that?”

She shrugged. “I heard about what happened over the weekend, and I thought you might need a friend today.”

“Thanks anyway,” I said, skirting around her. “I'm good.”

I raced to the cafeteria but couldn't find Annie anywhere. She wasn't in line or at Courtney's table. I scanned the other tables, wondering if she and Scott were sitting alone together, but there was no sign of either of them. Where could they be?

I checked every stairwell, peeked into the bathrooms, and scoped out the field. I was frantic all afternoon. Annie didn't go to any classes after lunch. I waited outside each of her classrooms until the bell rang, hoping to catch a glimpse of her.

I checked her Twitter account on my phone, but she hadn't tweeted since the weekend. I even trolled Courtney's Facebook for any gossip, but there was nothing.

Not even the whispers of
freak
and
psycho
I heard in the halls could distract me from my thoughts about Annie. I needed to know what was happening, but I was locked out of her life.

After the final bell rang, I came home and lied about having a big assignment so I could monitor her online activity. But Annie is completely silent. I even tried re-adding her as a friend on Facebook, but she hasn't responded. No one is saying
anything
online.

I've never been more aware of how isolated I am than tonight. It's as if I have absolutely no connection to the world outside my head. There are life-changing things happening, but I'm so far adrift that the ripples don't even reach me.

You're being paranoid,
I tell myself, hunching my shoulders and scanning the hallway for Scott. I have that ticklish feeling I get on the back of my neck whenever people are staring at me.

I wasn't ready when I talked to Scott yesterday. Everything came out all wrong. I need to find him this morning and make things right.

I head toward his locker, trying to shake off the sensation that people are whispering about me.
No one else knows,
I remind myself.
Stop freaking out.

I yelp as a hand reaches out of the crowd and grabs me. “Holy shit, Larissa,” I squeak out. “You scared me.”

She searches my eyes and I feel my stomach hit the floor.

“What?” I ask her.

“Is it true?” she whispers dramatically.

“Is what true?”

“Are you
pregnant?
”

“What? Where did you hear that?”

“It's all over school! Didn't you check Facebook this morning?”

Larissa pulls me into the nearest stairwell. “Late last night, Scott changed his Facebook status to single.” She pauses, searching my face for a reaction. “So everyone started commenting and asking what happened. He put up a status that said ‘Don't believe anything Annie says.' So I had Jonathan call and get the scoop. He told Jon that you got pregnant on purpose to try to trick him, and that you're some kind of psycho girl who wants to drop out and get married.”

“He's lying,” I whisper. “I don't want to get married, and I wasn't trying to trick him.”

“So you
are
pregnant?” She has an expression on her face that I can't read. But I'm so confused. So alone. I need someone to know my side.

“Yes.”

“Oh. My. God. Annie! How?”

I just stare at her.

“Okay. I get the how. But didn't you guys use stuff?”

“He used a condom forever, but then he said he wanted to stop. I agreed, and he says it's my fault because he figured I would only agree if I was on the Pill.” I want her to rant and rave over the injustice of it. I want her to take my side.

“Didn't you guys ever
talk
about it?”

“Not enough, apparently.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I don't know!” I wail. “Larissa, what can I do? How do I fix this? I'm scared, and I don't have anyone to help me.”

Larissa takes a step back, shocked by my sudden outburst. “You'll figure something out, Annie, I know you will.” She gives me a quick hug and heads for the hallway. “Maybe talk to your guidance counselor?” And then she's gone.

I sink to the floor and sit under the stairs, still wearing my coat.

Everyone knows. Scott opened his big fucking mouth and told everyone.

He's such a coward,
I think as tears of frustration well in my eyes. I know
exactly
why he did this, and I could claw his lying eyes out of his face over it. He was scared I'd tell everyone how he abandoned me when he found out I was pregnant. He was scared of being the “bad guy,” and he didn't want anyone thinking that he'd been part of this willingly. So he lied and said I got pregnant on purpose.

Feelings rush through me in waves. I'm angry and sad and ashamed and afraid. I pull my jacket up around my ears and wish I could make myself invisible forever.

It seems like only minutes have passed, so I'm startled when feet start pounding on the stairs above me. I check my phone to find that first period evaporated while I was hiding here. I wait for the halls to clear and then stand up on stiff legs. I'm suddenly sweltering in my jacket, so I slip it off, a loose plan forming in my mind. I head for my locker to drop off my jacket. Then I'll go and make an appointment in the counseling office.

When I reach my locker, though, I'm gripped by nausea. Someone has taken a bright red lipstick and written the word
SLUT
all over my locker door. I reach out and touch the oily surface of the letters and then turn around and run.

The drama on Facebook was out of control tonight. Actually, drama sounds too benign. It was a train wreck. It was a massacre.

It started right after school, when Courtney posted the status
I wish a certain slutty ex-friend would quit messaging me. I hate LIARS.
A flurry of responses ensued, mostly from wannabes hoping to endear themselves to Courtney.

*Hugs* Courtney.

Who's the ex-friend? I hate liars too!

Oooh! Sounds like a good story!

Then Larissa weighed in, unable to contain the fact that she knew who Courtney was talking about:
Don't tell me you haven't heard about Annie yet??

That's when the rumors got out of control. First, people swore they'd seen her sneaking around with other guys, cheating on Scott. Then someone claimed that they'd walked in on her having sex with a senior in the boys' bathroom. And then the big bombshell came.
Annie is pregnant! I bet she doesn't even know who the father is.

I couldn't stop reading. It was like some gruesome accident that you know you don't want to see but can't resist peeking at. I kept refreshing the feed, even while it made me feel sick.

I never understood what Scott saw in her. She's so UGLY.

She puts out, obvs! Why else would he waste his time with her?

How can you even tell she's pregnant? She's FAT already!

I imagined Annie sitting in front of her computer, unable to tear her eyes away from the comments. I felt sorry for her and angry with her all at once. If she'd just listened to me about Courtney, she wouldn't be in this situation. Courtney is evil. She's always just one step away from turning on people. Why didn't Annie
listen
when I told her not to trust Courtney?

I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do.
What the fuck am I supposed to do?

This is all so fucked up. I can't even believe it's happening. I knew—I
knew
—it would be bad if people found out I was pregnant. But I never expected
this.

I've avoided the Internet for days. After what happened at school on Tuesday, I knew that Facebook would be exploding with the news. I made a promise to myself that I would ignore, ignore, ignore. I told myself it would all blow over in a few days.
Don't read it—it will just upset you.
But here I am, glued to the computer screen, hitting Refresh over and over again.

I shift in my seat as the page reloads. It's after midnight, and I've been in front of this computer for hours.
Just one more refresh,
I promise myself.
Then I'll go to bed.
There are more than a hundred responses to Courtney's original status now. Imagine that. Over a hundred comments about how ugly and slutty and fat I am.

I break my promise and refresh the screen for another half hour before finally turning off the computer and crawling into bed.

I burrow under the covers and try to wrap my mind around what just happened. It's bad enough that people I thought were my friends are saying horrible things about me, but almost worse that people I don't even know have mean things to say. Why would someone who has never even talked to me take time out of their day to rip me apart online?

More than one hundred comments, and not one person defended me.

Just as I'm finally drifting off to sleep, my cell phone dings. I almost ignore it, desperate for the nothingness of sleep. Curiosity gets the better of me, though, and I lean over to find a text from a number I don't recognize. I slide my thumb across the screen to unlock the phone, and there it is.
Fucking bitch.
My eyes snap open and I stare at the screen, wondering who sent it and how they got my number. I'm about to respond when another text comes in from another unknown number:
Ugly slut! Everyone hates you.

Text after text arrives. I stop reading them. I just let the number of messages climb higher and higher. Tears stream down my cheeks as the phone vibrates in my hand over and over. My mind is screaming at me to shut it off and put it away, but I can't. I lie there noting each message that comes in. Counting them without really counting. Accepting them like blows.