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

sad and regretful and jealous. I should be the girl under his arm. I should be at that cafeteria table, smiling up at him. He told me he loved me. How could he have his arm around someone else?

I’ve read all the novels and seen all the shows that tell me how I should feel, if I was a healthy and whole person. I should be standing tall and knowing I’m better than they are. I should feel happy I’m not the one sitting at that table with him, falling for his lies. I know I should gather my dignity around me and move on. But here’s the thing . . . I haven’t got any dignity left. And I’m not healthy. Or whole.

“Get up!”

I groan and roll over. I am so not in the mood for this.

“I just got off the phone with your history teacher,” Madge announces, whipping the covers off of me and throwing them on the ground. “You’re lucky I hadn’t left for work yet. Her next step was to try your father at the office.”

My whole body aches.

“You need to pull yourself together, Anne. This is getting out of control.”

I sit up and rub my eyes, my fingers coming away black from the makeup I didn’t bother to take off last night. I know I should feel some sense of urgency, but mostly I just feel annoyed. I was planning on staying home today, and there’s no way Madge will let me get away with that now.

“What did you tell her?”

“That we’re aware you’re having difficulties and we’re handling it. I covered for you this time, Anne. You’ve got to drop this whole depressed teenager thing, though, and pull yourself together, or there’ll be more phone calls and meetings. Do you want your father getting involved? Is that what you want?”

I shrug and lie back down. I don’t care anymore. Everything is shit already.

“No way!” she shouts. “Get out of that bed right now. I stuck my neck out for you. I took you to that godawful clinic and fixed everything for you, and this is the way you repay me?”

“Repay you?” I can’t believe I’m hearing this right. “You pushed me into the worst day of my life before I was ready, and you want me to repay you? This is all your fault!”

I’m awake now, anger coursing through my body. I can feel it all the way to my fingers and toes. It feels strangely good. Like I’m alive.

Madge rolls her eyes. “Don’t you dare try to pin this all on me. I’m not the one who got pregnant at fifteen. You got yourself in trouble. If you want to be mad at someone, be mad at yourself.”

“Don’t you think I am?” I shout, the words exploding out of me before I can stop them. “Don’t you think I hate myself for what happened?”

Madge falters a bit, gripping my bed frame for support. “Anne,” she says softly.

But it’s too much to bear. I don’t want her pity, and it’s too late for her to show compassion. The time for kindness was when I was limping home from the clinic. Not now. Not when I’ve had to beg for it.

“It is your fault that you pushed me into that abortion,” I shout at her. “I wasn’t ready, Madeleine. I needed time to figure things out. But like everything else, you just pushed and pushed to get your own way. You went barreling ahead and booked the appointment and loaded me into your car like I was nothing. Like I was a problem to be fixed. You’ve never seen me as a person. I’m just the shit you got stuck with when you married my dad.”

“What did you want me to do? I can’t win with you. It doesn’t matter what I do. When I try to help you, I’m interfering, and when I leave you alone, I’m ignoring you. I was trying to help, Anne. I was trying to be a stepmother to you. Sophie told me how girls were tormenting you at school and that you were all alone with no one to help you. Do you really think I wanted to be calling and faxing abortion clinics, for Christ’s sake? No! I stepped up because you needed an adult in your corner and I wanted to be that person for you.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “You said it yourself. You only helped me because you think I’m a screwup and you don’t want my mistakes ruining everything. You’ve hated me since the day you met me, so don’t try to pretend you were helping me out of the goodness of your heart.”

“Is that really what you think? That I hate you? Because I see things differently.”

“I’m sure you do. And let me guess: I’m in the wrong.”

She groans and pulls at her hair. “You’re maddening, you know that? And the crazy part of it is that you remind me of me. You’re stubborn and confrontational, and you don’t let anyone push you around.”

I clench my jaw and stare at the ceiling. I am nothing like her.

Madge rubs her hands over her face. “Whether you want me in your life or not, Anne, I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere. I care about your father and this family, and—I’ve got a news flash for you—I care about you, too. So even though this is going to make you hate me even more than you already do, I’m making sure you get yourself out of this bed and off to school today. Not because I’m a bitch, but because it’s what’s best for you.”

She looks at her watch. “You have exactly twenty minutes to get ready for school, and I’ll give you a ride. Any later than that, and I’ll phone your dad to come pick you up. I’m done with worrying about whether he’ll find out about all this. If you want to tell him, then come out with it and tell