She picks my covers up off the floor and drops them onto my bed.
“I’ll walk,” I tell her. I don’t want to be stuck in that SUV with her again.
“Fine. And I’ll phone the school to make sure you get there.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
She can force me to go to school, I decide, but she can’t force me to attend classes. I ditch second period and hide out in a stairwell, blaring my music in an attempt to keep Madge’s words out of my head. She’s not allowed to be reasonable right now. I want to fight. I want to yell and scream. Why can’t she just stick to her role as the wicked stepmother, and I’ll stick to mine as the fucked-up stepdaughter?
With my music blaring, I don’t even hear Jess sneaking up until she sits down right across from me and tugs my earphones out of my ears.
What the hell? Why won’t everyone just leave me alone?
“I want to talk,” she declares. “I know something’s wrong, and I want to help you.”
What a joke. I look at her, with her preppy clothes and painted fingernails, and I suddenly feel a thousand years old. What would an overgrown child like Jess know about my problems? Her biggest worry is whether she’ll get an A or a B on her next test.
“Go away, Jess. I don’t want to talk to you.”
“I’m not leaving. You need help, Annie. I’m really scared for you.”
“Scared for me? Don’t insult me. You just can’t stand to be on the outside of anything. You want to play the big hero swooping in to save me, but you never even bothered to find out what’s wrong.”
“We both made mistakes,” she says evenly. “But I’m here now. You’re my friend and I want to help you.”
“You’re not my friend.” My voice is an icy knife. “When I told Courtney about your anxiety, I did it to help you. I did it because I cared. You turned your back on me when I needed you the most. That’s not friendship. Do you really expect me to believe that you of all people can’t see how bad things are for me right now?”
Jessie goes quiet. She bows her head, and big tears drop into her lap.
“You gave up the right to say you care,” I say, reveling in the sensation of finally letting all my anger loose. “You gave up the right to talk about me like you know me when you turned your back on me and spent your days laughing with your new friends. You’re not helping me, so just leave me alone.”
She looks up then, fire in her eyes. “I didn’t think you needed my help, Annie. I didn’t think all . . . this . . . would happen. This isn’t you! How can you just put your head down and give up? You’re supposed to fight! You’re not supposed to let Courtney win.”
“You think all this is about Courtney? Jesus, Jess. You don’t know anything. You never did.”
“I know that girls like you don’t just roll over and take crap from girls like Courtney.”
I shake my head at her stupidity. “That’s the most fucked-up thing I’ve ever heard. Girls like me. You just want me to fight your battles from years ago, don’t you?” I ask, realization dawning. “I’m not a plot device in the story of your life, Jessie. I’m a person. And I’m just as fucked up . . . no, make that more fucked up than you or anyone else. There’s no such thing as girls like me. That’s a fantasy.”
Her eyes are wide. “I don’t want you to fight my battles. I want you to fight yours. And you’re right that I don’t know what you’ve got going on. Because you won’t tell me. How am I supposed to be there for you when you won’t let me in?”
I shrug and shake my head at her. “It’s too late, Jess. I don’t want to talk about this with you. I don’t want to let you in. Go back to your friends and leave me alone.”
Jessie
“You’re gonna say yes, right? Say yes.”
I smiled and shook my head at Charlie. He was being ridiculous. “I don’t dance.”
“I’ll teach you.”
“I thought we were cool hipster rebels who don’t buy into the trappings of conventional teenage life.”
“We’ll be ironic about it,” he said with a wicked gleam in his eye. “We’ll expose the ridiculousness of the teen dance trope by playing it out to its fullest. I’m thinking corsage, photos in your living room, first kiss on the dance floor. The whole nine yards.”
He gave me his best pleading look but then pulled back abruptly and looked over my shoulder.
I followed his gaze to see what had wiped the smile off his face.
It was Courtney and Scott. Making a scene in front of Annie’s table.
“C’mon,” Charlie said gently, pulling at my sleeve. “You don’t want to see this.”
I shook him off and watched as Courtney set her tray down on Annie’s table with a clatter. Annie just held her book up higher in front of her face, ignoring Courtney the way she does every day. Today, though, Courtney would not be put off.
“Who’s prettier?” she asked Scott loudly. “Me or your ex-girlfriend?”
I could see Annie’s book wobble a bit, but she pretended she couldn’t hear.
Scott looked queasy. “C’mon, Court, cut it out.” He pulled on her arm, trying to end the scene.
“No.” Courtney pouted. “I really want to know. You think I’m prettier than her, right?”
“You’re beautiful. Now let’s go.”
Courtney leaned over and yanked the book out of Annie’s hands. “I need your help, Annie,” she sang. “I want to get Scott something really special. You know what he likes, right?”
I watched Annie raise her eyes to meet Courtney’s, and I searched her face for any signs of fire. Come on, Annie, I willed her. Fight.
But Annie just looked back