How It Ends by Catherine Lo (classic books for 13 year olds .TXT) 📕

I take one look at her pissed-off expression, and I can’t help it—I burst out laughing.

Courtney tries to keep a straight face, but a smile tugs at the corners of her mouth, making me laugh even harder.

“You’re crazy,” she mutters, and a little snort escapes as she pulls her head back inside. I fall to the floor, clutching my sides and trying to catch my breath.

“I can’t believe you threw my remote out the window,” she says, giving in to the laughter.

“It bounced!” I squeal. “Who leaves their window open in the middle of winter, anyway? And where the hell is the screen?”

“It . . . was . . . hot in here,” she manages. “And I took the screen off because that’s how I sneak out at night.”

“Well, next time you sneak out, just grab the remote on your way.”

She grabs a pillow and thwacks me on the head with it, and we both lose it completely.

It takes forever for the laughter to subside enough that our breathing returns to normal and we can talk again.

“So tell me about the Jess thing.” She groans softly. “I’m all ears.”

“And open-minded?” I prompt.

“Don’t push your luck, Miller.”

“Right.” I sit cross-legged on the floor and consider my options. I know I promised Mrs. Avery that I wouldn’t say anything about Jessie’s anxiety, but here’s the thing: Courtney’s not the bitch everyone thinks she is. I’ve seen the real her underneath all that.

“What if I told you there was a good reason why Jess does all that stuff that annoys you—” I begin.

“This should be good,” she quips. “Like, she was abducted by aliens and is suffering the effects of mind control?”

“Good one. But no. Remember when you told me that the thing that bugs you the most is how sensitive Jess is, and how much you hate it when she overreacts?”

“Mmhmm.”

I take a deep breath and push back my feelings of guilt before telling Courtney about Jess’s anxiety.

Courtney listens to it all, then lies back on her bed and stares up at the ceiling. “Why did you tell me all that?” she asks.

“Because I trust you. I knew that if I told you the truth, you’d help me help Jessie.”

She bites her lip, thinking hard. “Okay,” she says finally. “I’ll try.”

Jessie

I’ve fantasized about Annie and me making up a million different ways, but I can safely say that none of those scenarios took place in a high school bathroom.

So imagine my surprise when after almost three weeks of not talking, Annie waltzed into the washroom while I was fixing my hair today, smiled at me, and said, “Hi, Jess, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

I thought I was dreaming.

And after all that time spent thinking about what I’d say in the event that she spoke to me again, the best I could come up with was “What?”

She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “I owe you an apology.”

I had to brace myself against the sink. It was so bizarre. Annie was standing there like she was making a presentation in class, and her words were all wrong. It didn’t even sound like her. My Annie would have said, “I’m sorry,” or “Can you forgive me for being such a bitch?”

“I owe you one too,” I said, cringing at the distance between us.

“Thanks. I guess we both kind of freaked out, right?”

“Right.” It came out in a whoosh of feeling, and Annie seemed to relax a bit.

“I’ve missed you,” she said, running up and giving me a tight hug. “Friends again?”

I forced a smile onto my face and allowed myself to believe this was really happening. “Friends. My mom will be so relieved to see you after school. I think this fight has been even harder on her than on me.”

Annie laughed. “I miss her too, but I’m going over to Scott’s today. I want us to hang out soon, though. What day is good for you?”

Any day. Every day. “How about Friday?”

“Hmmm . . . Friday I’m going to the movies with Scott, Larissa, and Jonathan. Do you want to come?” Her voice trailed off, making the invitation sound as insincere as it was.

I wanted to joke with her about me being the loser with no boyfriend, but instead I said, “Nah. I have . . . I mean, I was going to invite you back to Avery Family Games Night.” My heart constricted at how pathetic my Friday night sounded.

“Holy shit! I forgot about tacos and games! We should so do that again sometime.”

It happens every Friday night, I thought to myself. “What day is good for you?”

“What about Sunday afternoon?”

“Sure! My house?”

“Absolutely! I miss hanging out at your place.” She paused to check her reflection and smooth her hair. “Listen, I had a long talk with Courtney about the way she was treating you, and things are going to be different from now on, I promise. Please say you’ll sit with us at lunch today, okay?”

She didn’t even wait for a response. She just flashed me a quick smile and walked out, leaving me standing there with my mouth hanging open.

I was relieved we made up, but it seemed so anticlimactic. After weeks of worries and tears and gnawing sadness . . . after all the panic and self-doubt and desperation . . . to have Annie just toss an “I’m sorry” at me and then go about her day as if nothing had ever happened . . . it was so unsatisfying. I felt like all that time was a complete waste, because I was right back to where I started before our big fight. Maybe even a step or two back.

I spent the rest of the morning stressing about what to do at lunch. I didn’t want to eat with Courtney and the others, but I did want to spend time with Annie.

I had absolutely no idea what made her apologize. It felt so tenuous. I was afraid that if I ditched her at lunch, she’d get mad again. So I swallowed my fears (and more