Free How It Ends by Catherine Lo Page B

sleep, around four a.m., I decided that things might not be as bad as they seemed. They were drunk; Annie had said that. Maybe it was just a drunken party thing. Maybe nothing would come of it.
    My psychiatrist would call that a defense mechanism—my brain’s attempt to soften the blow of difficult news by rationalizing it. After today, I just call it stupid.
    Today.
    I was running late this morning, so I had to send Annie on ahead and then bum a ride with my dad. By the time I raced through the front doors at school, the first bell had already rung, and I still had to get to the second floor to get my books from my locker.
    Which is why I got stuck in a stairwell during the national anthem.
    Which is why I saw it.
    I was just inside the upper stairwell doors, peering out into the hall beyond, when I caught sight of Annie. I was smiling to myself, thinking we’d both be late together, when I saw an arm loop around her waist and someone lean in to kiss her on the neck. I swear my brain froze. I felt like I was in the middle of some awful nightmare. My brain was wailing
No, no, no,
but there it was. Scott—
my
Scott—was sneaking kisses with Annie each time the hallway monitor looked the other way.
    My nose was practically pressed to the glass, so there was no mistaking what happened next. As the announcements ended, Scott gave her what looked to be the softest, tenderest kiss and then pulled back to look into her eyes. Since her back was to me, I had a front-row seat to the expression on his face. There was no explaining away the way he looked at her. I just stood there in the stairwell for the longest time. I didn’t feel like going to class. I didn’t feel like doing
anything.
    I’d love to say that I’m the sort of friend who can put her feelings aside and be happy for Annie. But it turns out I’m not. I wish I could turn back time and be honest with her. If I’d told her about my feelings for Scott, would she have stayed away from him? If I’d gone to the party, would he have kissed me instead?
    I didn’t realize it until today, but sometime during the last month, my days started to revolve around thoughts of Scott. When my mind wanders, it wanders to him. When I fall asleep at night, I think about his smile, and when I wake up in the morning, I count the hours till I get to see him. I choose my clothes more carefully, do my hair, and even put on makeup thinking of him.
    And now what?
    What do I do with my feelings for him now that the hope is gone? What do I look forward to? And how am I supposed to watch Annie live out everything I ever hoped for?

Annie
    Jessie’s talking, but I’m not really listening. I keep craning my neck to catch a glimpse of Scott. He has math first period, down the next hallway, and if Jess would hurry up at her locker, we could swing past there and run into him accidentally on purpose.
    I’ve been a hormonal mess all week, and I keep worrying that Scott is going to come to his senses and realize that he could do so much better than a head case like me. One minute I’ll be smiling uncontrollably, thinking about Scott, and the next I’ll be sobbing, thinking about the anniversary of my mom’s death coming up.
    â€œLet’s go,” I say, turning to Jessie. She’s fixing her hair in front of a little magnetic mirror stuck to her locker door. Wait . . .
what?
    â€œSince when do you have a mirror in your locker?”
    She jumps like I’ve caught her doing something wrong, and slams the door shut. “My mom gave it to me. It’s no big deal.”
    That’s when I see the highlights in her hair. Seriously. Jessie. With highlights. This is the girl who started the year without even brushing her hair some mornings. And the closer I look at her, the more I see. She’s wearing all new clothes from head to foot.
    â€œAre those new jeans?”
    â€œThis is what happens when my mom notices