Read The Everafter for Free Online Page B

says it. And to make things worse, her mother adds something like, “I’m feeling so sick, darlin’, that I can understand why you’d rather be at a friend’s house than here keeping me company. But I’ll miss you so much while you’re gone. Who will bring me my cup of tea when I don’t even think I can make it out of bed?”
    That just sort of kills any desire Sandra has to stay at my house.
    Sandra and I have been fighting about this stuff a lot lately. I keep saying she should stay at my house even though her mother doesn’t want her to. She says she just can’t, not when her mother needs her so much.
    Two days ago, when Sandra invited me to her house fora birthday sleepover, I was crazy excited. It’s been ages since we’ve spent the night together.
    I should have known better. Mrs. Simpson is a mastermind at ruining my time with Sandra, and I should have expected her to pull it off tonight, too. Except I guess I thought that, this being a birthday, her mother would go out of her way to make it a nice night for Sandra.
    No such luck.
    Five minutes ago, Sandra’s mom knocked on the bedroom door, stuck her head inside, and said, “I’m so sorry, girls, but I have a migraine coming on. I’m afraid that Madison is going to have to go home.”
    “Please, Mom,” Sandra begged. “We’ll be quiet. I promise. We haven’t had a sleepover in ages.”
    Mrs. Simpson started crying. “I’m so sorry, darling. I wanted so badly for this to be a perfect night for the two of you. Maybe Daddy can take me to a motel so I can have enough quiet to recover. I’d just be so lonely there all by myself. Your dad would have to come back here to check on you. And I get so scared when I’m so sick. I can’t get up by myself if I need to. But I’ll call Madison’s mom and tell her not to come get her if your father says—”
    “No, Mom,” Sandra said. “We understand. We’ll do it again some other time.”
    Except I definitely don’t understand. I want to cry. I’m feeling ripped apart inside. My best friend isn’t really mybest friend. My best friend wouldn’t let her mother do this to her. How can Sandra not see this is all an act on her mother’s part? That her mother wants to ruin our time together?
    Sandra’s mother leaves the room, and I look at the devastated expression on Sandra’s face. Her brownish-green eyes are wide and glittering. She’s holding her own arms like she’s hugging herself. Even her normally bouncing, curly hair seems to drag along the side of her face. Guilt washes over me.
    None of this is Sandra’s fault.
    The doorbell rings. My mother is here. I still haven’t found my socks. I don’t want to leave Sandra here by herself wearing that desperate expression…on her birthday of all days. But now I can hear my mother’s voice in the entryway. She’s asking for me. Forget the socks. I know it’s a bizarre idea, but I figure that they can stay here and keep Sandra company for the night.
    I give Sandra a hug. A sob starts to wrack her body, but as her mother walks back into the room, she chokes it down.
    “Bye,” I whisper, letting go and rushing from the room.
    age 16
    I pull some books from my locker, and a pen slides out. I try to catch it, but my hands are full. It lands on the floor and makes a rolling escape toward Sandra, who’s standing right next to me at her locker. She yanks hard on the handle of the locker’s jammed door. It suddenly gives up its fight to protect her books from the odious duty of accompanying her to class. But lockers are not above simple revenge. Books, notebooks, even a pencil case, slide off the top shelf. She jumps back to avoid the avalanche.
    I’m laughing at the bizarre look on her face when I hear a voice behind me say, “Hey…”
    Ohmygod. Go away, I think. Thankfully, I have the presence of mind not to let the idea slip out of my mouth. Nausea rises in my stomach at the sound of Gabe’s voice. Must be the memory of Kristen’s