screamed. I hadn’t had an anxiety attack in more than six months, and I’d never had one in the middle of a class.

I could feel the sweat beading on my face. I had to escape. I had to get out of there.

I was sure all eyes were on me, but I couldn’t stop to explain. I grabbed my bag and ran for the door, holding my hand over my mouth like I was going to be sick. Miss Donaghue could draw her own conclusions.

I heard her shouting after me, but I burst through the classroom door and ran down the hallway. I had no idea where to go. I just knew I needed to be away from everyone. I had an Ativan in my bag. The emergency pill my mother lets me carry. I just needed a private space and the magic pill, and I’d be okay.

I ran down the stairs and out onto the field. Under the bleachers was perfect. No one would find me there. I skidded into a far corner and wrenched open my bag. I knew the pill container was tucked away in there somewhere.

I dumped everything out onto the dirt. My binders, wallet, textbooks, tampons . . . everything lay jumbled among the candy wrappers and cigarette butts that littered the ground. No pill container. Crying in great, heaving gasps, I shook my bag and heard the reassuring sound of the little pill rattling. My fingers found the zipper to an inside pocket and yanked it open. Thank God.

I wrenched the top off the bottle, and the pill flew out.

“Fuck!” I screamed so loud I’m sure they must have heard me back at school. I groped around in the dirt and found the tiny pill under a gum wrapper. I snatched it up and pushed it under my tongue before I could think about the disgustingness it had been sitting in. Then I sank to my knees and waited, trying hard to take breaths as deep as I could muster.

It took about twenty minutes, but eventually my heart slowed down and my sobs subsided. I had the lingering feeling that I might throw up, but the panic was gone.

I looked around drowsily, fresh tears in my eyes. Why was I so messed up? How did I go from sitting in English class to sobbing under the bleachers, eating a pill out of the dirt?

God, I hate being me.

Annie

I’m packing up to head to Jessie’s house when Larissa’s text comes in:

911. Meet at Court’s in 1 hour.

I squint and double-check the message. 911? I really hope she’s exaggerating.

I fire off a text to Courtney. Plans tonight. What’s L’s emergency?

I’ve been looking forward to sleeping over at Jess’s house all week. We have a hardcore movie night planned—chick flicks from dusk till dawn. We’re in competition to see who can choose the cheesiest romantic comedy ever made, and I’m pretty sure I’ve got this locked down after raiding Madge’s stash of old DVDs. My overnight bag is packed full of junk food and fashion magazines, and Jess has promised a full-on girly spa experience, with mud masks and manicures. Our goal is to have the world’s most stereotypical slumber party.

No clue, Courtney writes back. But she was crying when she called to come over.

I toss my phone onto the bed and pace my room. I can’t just cancel on Jess. She’s expecting me any minute. But this isn’t like Larissa. God, what if Jon broke up with her? My stomach clenches thinking about how heartbroken she’d be.

If we meet at Courtney’s at seven, I could probably stay till eight or eight thirty and still make it to Jessie’s before nine o’clock.

I text Courtney back. I’ll be there, but I can’t stay long.

L’s sleeping over. Stay as long as you can.

I take a deep breath and pull up Jessie’s number, then freak out before dialing. I hate lying, but there’s no way I can tell her that I’m going over to Courtney’s. She’ll never understand the reasons why. I send a text instead: Family crap here and I’m stuck for a bit. Be there by 9?

My hands sweat while I wait for her reply.

Everything ok? she asks.

I am the worst friend in the world. Yeah. Just annoying. I’ll be there as soon as I can.

Admit it . . . you’re just having trouble coming up with cheesy movies and you know you’re gonna LOSE.

I laugh. No way, Avery. You’re going DOWN.

I look up and down Courtney’s street while I wait for her to answer the door. I’m terrified that Jess will spot me somehow. She lives only a few blocks away.

Courtney whips open the door, and I can hear Larissa’s sobs all the way down the hallway.

“Oh, thank God,” Court says, spotting my overnight bag. “I’m so glad you decided to sleep over. She’s a wreck.”

Shit.

“This?” I ask, sizing up my bag and stalling for time. “I just . . . it’s for just in case.”

“Yeah, well, this is officially the ‘just in case’ situation. Larissa’s slobbering all over me, and I can’t get her to calm down enough to tell me what’s wrong. I don’t do this emotional shit. You need to get back there now.”

It takes us twenty minutes and two rum and Cokes to calm Larissa down. I’m watching the clock and freaking out, murmuring encouraging words out loud while screaming in my head.

“What happened, Liss?” I ask, rubbing her back and praying it doesn’t set off another round of sobbing.

She hiccups and swipes at her tearstained cheeks. “It’s . . . it’s . . . my mom.”

She sits up straighter and takes a long sip from her drink.

“You know how my mom’s been working a lot, right?”

Courtney nods her head in response. They’ve obviously had this discussion before.

“Well, I wanted to Google showtimes for the movies tonight and her phone was on the coffee table, so I figured I’d just use it instead of hunting for mine.” A tear rolls down her cheek. “There was a text sitting

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