How It Ends (29 page)

“Nope,” I said, watching the shock register on her face. “You're just going to have to trust me.”

Back in the cab, I gave the address of the building and crossed my fingers that this would all work out.

The taxi pulls up outside a building I never wanted to see again.

I'm suddenly so mad at Jess, I could cry.

“Why?” I ask her in disbelief. “Why would you do this to me?”

She looks shaken for a moment, but then puts her hand on my arm to steady me. “We're going to get your mom's necklace back.”

I feel like throwing up. I love her and hate her, and I feel like I don't know how to get out of this car. What if it's not there? I can't walk through those doors for nothing.

“I'll be right beside you,” she says, leaning over and popping the door open. “Let's go.”

Inside the waiting room, my legs start to shake. I never imagined coming back here in a million years. Thankfully, the room is empty. I couldn't handle seeing anyone waiting for an appointment.

Jess leads me over to the receptionist, and I notice with some relief that it's a different one from the day I was here. I'm terrified of anyone recognizing me.

“Do you have an appointment?” the receptionist asks, looking from Jess to me and back again.

I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out.

“I called earlier,” Jess says. “About the necklace.”

The receptionist perks up, and my heart starts to beat fast. “Just a moment,” she says, getting up and scooting out of view.

I look at Jess, tears brimming in my eyes. “They have it?”

She nods, and bumps her hip against mine.

The receptionist comes back into view, looking excited. “Janet will be out in a moment.” She gestures at the chairs in the waiting room, but I'm too excited to sit down.

The door on the far side of the waiting room opens, and I recognize the social worker from the day of my . . . procedure.

She must recognize me, too, because she walks right up and shakes my hand. “We've been hoping someone would come back for this,” she says, patting the pocket of her jacket. “It seems very special.”

I nod, my mouth going dry.

“Just to be sure you're the right owner,” she says apologetically, “would you mind describing the necklace?”

“Um, sure,” I squeak out. “It's a single diamond. On a white gold chain.”

“We have a winner!” Janet booms, producing the necklace from her pocket and handing it to me.

I fall to my knees, I'm so relieved and grateful. I look at Jessie, tears streaming down my face. “You found it.”

Janet looks at Jessie and then at me. “I don't remember your name, I'm sorry. But I do remember speaking with you.” She looks at her watch. “I don't have another appointment for forty-five minutes, and I'd love to see how you're doing. Why don't you come back to my office for a bit?”

“My name's Annie,” I say, looking over at Jessie. “And thanks, but I think we should probably be going.”

Jessie looks at the social worker and then over at the waiting area. “Actually,” she says, “I haven't read that issue of
Us Weekly
yet. I'm cool waiting.”

I look at Janet and shrug. Might as well.

I follow her out of the waiting room, turning to look at Jess before I step through the door.

She gives me a wobbly smile, and I stumble a bit as I recognize the expression on her face. She's
proud.
Jess is proud of me.

“C'mon c'mon c'mon,” Annie urges, pulling me through the halls. It's my first day back from suspension. With the weekend falling in the middle of my time off, it's been almost a week since I've been at school. So much has changed that my head is spinning. Changed in a good way, that is.

Annie met me at my locker this morning, dressed in a kilt, crop top, suspenders, and combat boots. It's part of her new
artistic experiment,
she informed me. She's now taking classic looks and deconstructing them by adding unexpected touches. “You should see what I have planned for tomorrow,” she said, arching her left eyebrow. “Think zombie stewardess.”

Unfortunately for Annie, Vice Principal Anderson is not well versed in the arts. He caught sight of her on the way to first period and forced her to zip a hooded sweatshirt over her belly-baring top. At first Annie refused, ranting about the school stifling creativity. When faced with the choice between going home to change and donning the sweatshirt, she finally relented.

“I can't miss lunch,” she said, poking me in the ribs. “There's a big surprise.”

We reach the cafeteria, and Annie peeks in and waits for a thumbs-up from Jody before pulling me through the doors. Jody, bless her, stepped right up in my absence. She recruited Annie to our table and made her one of the gang. They texted me over lunch every day, giving me the blow-by-blow of what was happening at school.

That's how I found out that even though Courtney's nose was only slightly swollen the day after our fight, by Monday she had two black eyes and a bandage over her nose. Word on the street is, she used our fight as an excuse to get a nose job, claiming I'd broken hers and it had to be reset.

My knees wobble as we enter the cafeteria. People have been looking at me all day, whispering to one another in the halls, and nodding at me in silent recognition. Still, I'm not prepared for the way that heads snap in my direction the minute we walk through the cafeteria doors. I might as well be wearing a sign:
I'm the girl who decked Courtney Williams.
I put my head down to hide my smile and follow Annie as she weaves through the tables.

When we reach the back of the room, I look up to see Jody and Charlie standing in front of our table, blocking it from view. Jody vibrates with excitement, hopping up and down and clapping her hands. In contrast, Charlie slumps awkwardly, smiling up at me from under his floppy hair. The sight of him nearly sends me into cardiac arrest. Whoever coined the phrase
Distance makes the heart grow fonder
was definitely onto something. It takes everything I have not to leap into his arms.

“Welcome back!” Jody squeals, yanking Charlie to the side to reveal their surprise. Her eyes bulge as she catches sight of Kevin helping himself to a forkful of cake from the center of the table.

“Shit,” he mumbles as Jody rounds on him.

She's about to tear into him when Annie starts laughing so hard she snorts. “Don't encourage him!” Jody protests, her face flaming. “I wanted everything to be perfect.”

“It
is
perfect,” I tell her, taking it all in. There are balloons and streamers and little bits of confetti sprinkled all over the table. The best part, though, is the cake. It's decorated like a jail cell, with gray icing bars and the words
Welcome back, Slugger
scrawled in red.

I grab a plastic fork off the table and take a heaping bite of cake, earning a fist bump from Kevin and a groan from Jody.

“I have plates,” she wails as Annie and Charlie join us. Her shoulders slump as we destroy the cake one delicious bite at a time.

“You're a bunch of barbarians,” she says grimly.

Kevin slides a fork over to her. “You know you want to.”

She heaves a sigh and slides into the chair beside me. “You're a bad influence, Avery. First violence and now the corruption of youth.”

Charlie winks at me and slides a wrapped package across the table.

“Presents too? God, I missed you guys.”

Charlie and Annie exchange a conspiratorial smile, and I raise my eyebrows in suspicion. I unwrap the gift cautiously and find a pair of boxing gloves, which I stash under the table as the cafeteria monitor wanders by. “You guys are gonna get me suspended again,” I warn.

We're polishing off the last of the cake when Courtney walks by with Scott stumbling after her. I stiffen, bracing myself for a confrontation, but she walks right past, as if we don't exist, and finds her way to her table, where a group of minions receive her like royalty.

Some things never change, I guess. And I'm surprised by how little it bothers me. For the first time ever, Courtney doesn't feel like the enemy. She's just a girl I don't particularly like.

Annie's phone chimes on the table, and she looks at it scornfully.

“He's been texting me like crazy,” she says, flashing me the screen. Scott.

I blink at her in surprise. “Are you texting him back?”

“Only to torture him,” she says mischievously, standing up and unzipping her sweatshirt before giving a theatrical stretch that manages to show off her killer abs.

I sneak a look at Scott and see that he's practically drooling on his cafeteria tray.

“You're evil,” I tell her, impressed.

Her phone chimes again, and she shakes her head in disbelief. “He seriously thinks I'll take him back.”

Not in a million years,
she taps out on the phone, and then turns it off and stashes it in her bag. “He's not worth the time,” she tells me. “This is a special day.”

I laugh and bump my shoulder against hers. “I have a surprise for you, too.” I reach for my bag slowly, drawing out the suspense, and watch as Annie bounces in her seat, excited.

I pull out a stapled packet of typed pages and present them to her with a flourish. “Ta-
da!
”

“Seriously? I bring you a party and you bring me . . . your homework?”

“Not exactly,” I say, laughing. “But kinda. Remember that god-awful story I wrote for Miss Donaghue last semester?”

Annie rolls her eyes at me. “You mean the one she told you was
full of potential?
”

“Yeah. That one. I have a confession to make. I was really upset when she hated the ending.”

“You don't say.”

I smack her with the papers. “I'm being serious here.” I laugh. “Back then, I couldn't imagine any other outcome. I got stuck on one idea and couldn't see past it.”

Annie gives me a rueful smile. “I can identify with that. So what changed?”

I shrug. “I'm not sure exactly.” I look around the table, thinking of everything that's happened this year. “It was so strange, the way the story came together,” I tell her. “It's like . . . once I stopped trying to force things to happen the way I thought they should, everything sort of fell into place.”

“I like that,” Annie says, taking my story and hugging it to her chest. “I can't wait to see how it ends.”

I'm sitting at my desk, surrounded by crumpled-up papers, trying to find the words to express how very thankful I am. Beyond all my wildest dreams,
How It Ends
has been transformed from a file on my computer to the book you now hold in your hands, and I owe an enormous debt of gratitude to so many people for making this dream come true.

I want to thank my remarkable agent, Mackenzie Brady, who saw a spark of potential in an earlier draft of this story, and who helped me nurture that spark into something more. Mackenzie is everything you would want an agent to be—brilliant, intuitive, savvy, tenacious, patient, and kind. She works tirelessly to protect the interests of her authors, and I am thankful for her every single day.

Mackenzie works as part of a team at New Leaf Literary & Media—and what an incredible team it is! The day my name went up on the Authors page of New Leaf's website is one of my proudest, and I still can't believe I'm fortunate enough to be represented by what is hands-down the best agency out there. Thank you, Joanna Volpe (who knows the answers to all the questions), Pouya Shahbazian, Kathleen Ortiz, Suzie Townsend, Dave Caccavo, Danielle Barthel, Jaida Temperly, Jackie Lindert, Jess Dallow, and Chris McEwen for all your hard work.

I want to thank my editor, Sarah Landis, and the entire team at Houghton Mifflin Harcourt. I will never forget the first time I spoke with Sarah—she talked about my characters like she knew and loved them, and I couldn't wait to get started working with her. She is a truly phenomenal editor, and I have grown as a writer under her expert guidance. Her insights have taken this book to a whole new level, and there aren't enough words to express how grateful I am.

The more I learn about the world of publishing, the more I appreciate just how many people bring their expertise to each project. The team at Houghton Mifflin Harcourt is beyond compare, and I am thankful for all of their contributions—editors, copyeditors, proofreaders, production and design teams, cover designers (especially the talented Cara Llewellyn, who created my stunning cover), marketing and publicity, sales . . . the list goes on and on. Thank you all.

Thank you to my amazing support group of friends and fellow writers. Especially to Heather and Suzette, who always believed and who celebrated every step along with me, and to Janet Taylor, my fellow HMH author and debut buddy. I can't tell you how many times I leaned on Janet for support. She is one wise and talented lady. To all our fellow Sweet Sixteens: It is an honor to be debuting alongside talent like yours. I am grateful for your friendship and support, and I wish you all the success in the world.