Read Something Like Fate for Free Online

brain cells.
    I can’t eat anything.
    Danielle’s like, “Can you even brush your teeth with only six brain cells left?”
    “I don’t think you can recognize your toothbrush,” I say. I’m not really paying attention, though. I keep looking over at Jason’s table. He’s laughing with the Golden Kids every time I look.
    “Oh, I finally got Good to Go on board.” Danielle and I have been working on an initiative to get delis and fast-food places to stop automatically dumping a pile of napkins and stuff in every to-go bag. We’ve already gotten a few places to agree to ask if you want anything extra.
    “That’s awesome,” I say.
    “Yeah, but we still have a lot of places to contact.”
    When lunch is almost over, I get up to throw out my garbage. Jason gets up with his tray at the same exact time.
    I’m separating my regular garbage from the things to recycle, but Jason doesn’t do that. He just tosses everything into the garbage can.
    I go, “Uh, excuse me?”
    “Hi.”
    “What are you doing?”
    “Throwing out my garbage. Unless, do you want it, or—”
    “Ring ring! Clue phone!”
    Jason stares at me.
    “The clue phone is ringing! It’s for you!”
    “Oh, right. Uh . . . hello?”
    “Hi. Is Jason there?”
    “Speaking.”
    “Are you aware that you’re supposed to put your empty water bottle in the blue recycling bin?”
    “This one?” Jason points to the bin. “Oh, sorry, I forgot you can’t see me. I’m currently pointing to the blue recycling bin.”
    “You mean the one marked bottles and cans?”
    “That would be the one, yes.”
    I wait.
    “So I guess I should take my water bottle out of the trash,” he concludes.
    “That would be a start.”
    Jason peers into the gross garbage can. “It has noodles on it.”
    “Do you want to be responsible for completely destroying the only planet you can possibly live on?”
    Jason crinkles up his nose. He slowly extends his arm down into the garbage can. He picks up the bottle and shakes some noodles off.
    “See?” I go. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
    “It kind of was.”
    “How can you not recycle?”
    “Oh, I recycle.”
    “Yeah? Then what about that bottle?”
    “Okay. See I recycle? But just not every single thing every single time.”
    “Did you know that landfills produce thirty-six percent of all methane emissions?”
    “I did not know that.”
    “And that methane is a major greenhouse gas? Twenty times more powerful than carbon dioxide?”
    “That I knew.”
    “So when you throw something in the garbage that could have been recycled and it becomes part of the landfill mass, you’re contributing to human-forced global warming and, ultimately, environmental demise.”
    Jason considers this. “Tell you what. You convince me that recycling this bottle would make that much of a difference, and I’ll promise to recycle everything recyclable for the rest of the year.”
    “The rest of the school year?”
    “Yup.”
    “But that’s only two more months.”
    “Exactly!” And then he smiles like he just solved the global-warming problem all by himself.
    “How about for the rest of your life?”
    “Whoa. Isn’t that a little extreme?”
    “Less extreme than destroying the Earth.”
    “Hmm. Okay. You’re on.”
    “Great.” I put my tray on the rack and head back to my table.
    “Hey!”
    I spin around. “Yes?”
    “What about convincing me?”
    “I’ll have it ready for you soon.”
    “Why can’t you just tell me?”
    “How lame would that be? No, I’m doing graphs and charts and whatnot. It’ll provide a much more compelling argument.”
    This will be fun. Here’s a chance to show Jason what I know. And maybe even change his life.

9
    Sometimes Erin and I go into town together. It’s this ritual we’ve had since forever. Our moms used to take turns driving us. Now that Erin drives us, the ritual feels completely different. It used to be like this special treat I’d look forward to. But now we can go