Read The End of the World for Free Online

care, because they start talking again before the door shuts behind me.
    “Shaye McCormick was in here again last Friday afternoon. The principal’s making her come in later to discuss the incident. Did you hear about it?”
    I glance back to see the woman named Caroline shake her head. “No, but that girl is nothing but trouble, and I’ve said it from day one. Disrespectful, a string of boyfriends no girl her age should have. What she needs is a…”
    The door latches closed, and I’m on the other side of it, standing there with nothing but a stack of four papers and a pile of new questions. Questions I don’t know what to do with. Questions that I don’t think anyone will answer, including Shaye. With a churning in my gut that makes me think my breakfast might make a second appearance, I glance at my schedule and start looking for my first class.
    I spot Shaye on what I hope is my last turn, standing at her open locker, staring with the door open. Her long hair falls in front of her face, creating a barrier of sorts. From me, from the ladies in the office, from classmates…I can’t be sure. All I know is I want it to move so that I can see her face for myself.
    “Hey, why are you still standing here? Shouldn’t you be in class already?”
    Judging by the way her head snaps up and her hair whips backward, it might have been the wrong thing to say. But I’ve been on the receiving end of a bad conversation plenty of times; I can take whatever she dishes out. She scans my face and I prepare for battle, but her shoulders fall on a deep sigh and she turns back toward her locker.
    I try my best to shake off an uneasy feeling. Shaye was ready to fight—seemed to almost expect it. The relief on her face when she saw it was me…it breaks my heart a little.
    “If I needed a second father I would ask for it, Cameron. What are you doing still in the hallway? You need to get to class.”
    I just look at her profile. “And if I needed a mother…”
    I glance inside the parts of her locker I can see. It’s a mess of wrinkled papers and new-looking textbooks and discarded erasers and a few wadded up dollar bills piled in a corner. Someone told me once that if you wanted to see inside someone’s soul, you should look inside their car. Tidiness represents a person well put-together; dirt and disorder represents chaos.
    I’m not sure if the same saying holds true to a locker, but Shaye doesn’t have a car. And Shaye is definitely chaos. I didn’t need to see the locker to know that.
    “When is your lunch?” I say, scanning my schedule. “Mine is third. If you have the same one, want to eat together?”
    She looks over at me again and slowly shuts the locker door. “Mine’s third too. You sure you don’t want to wait and see if you make friends? You might want to eat with them.”
    Her tone is laced with self-doubt and a whole lot of insecurity. There’s no reason for it. Shaye is beautiful and confident, if a little sarcastic. At least the version of her I’ve seen so far at home. The women in the office are catty and spiteful and probably more than a little jealous. Old age and ugliness and can do that to some in the female set. Trust me, I had a social worker just like them once before she up and retired. Meanest lady I was ever around, and I’ve known some winners.
    A paper falls from Shaye’s hand and I lean over to pick it up. I make out a single word written in angry red ink before looking up from the paper: Die . I try not to show how much it bothers me and instead look her straight in the eye.
    “If I make friends, then all of us can eat together. Deal?” She takes the paper from my outstretched hand and tucks it inside a notebook. I can’t read the look on her face.
    “Deal, Cameron.” She smiles a very sad smile and looks at her shoes. “But I won’t hold you to it.”
    With that, she turns on her heel and walks away, leaving me to wonder what those last seven words even mean.
    *
    Shaye
    The