The S-Word by Chelsea Pitcher

Author:Chelsea Pitcher
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Gallery Books

seventeen

ISPEND ALL DAY Sunday cramming for finals. Most of mine fall at the beginning of the week. Wednesday’s the last official day of school, and by then I’ll only have two tests left: History and Drama. So I’ll worry about those last.

Monday morning I stroll into English and churn out an essay about overarching themes in American literature. I’m pretty sure I nail it. I’m great at making stuff up. After that, there’s my oral exam in French, followed by an “interpretive drawing” in Art class.

Seriously, they should just give me the As now.

After school, I get to the coffee shop just in time to find Kennedy dozing off. Maybe I’m not the only one who’s afraid to sleep at night. Her eyes are red, like she’s been crying. She looks like a child who has a monster under her bed.

She looks like she knows she’s about to wake it up.

“First things first.” She sets some pages on the table. She’s wearing her Verity High sweatshirt and jeans. Nothing flashy. “Someone was passing them around in Cara’s third period. I told the girls to give me any they can find.”

“Thanks,” I say without emotion. I already know the pages are from Lizzie’s diary. And if I’m supposed to show gratitude toward the people who wrote SLUT on her car, well . . . maybe they should hold their breath.

“They are sorry, you know,” she says.

“I’m sure they are.” I sip my latte. It tastes like nothing. A lot of things do lately.

“If they’d had any idea—”

“I didn’t come here to talk about this.” The last thing I want is to hear about the innocence of her friends. Of course they knew their attack would hurt Lizzie.

That’s why they did it.

“Okay,” Kennedy says. “I guess that’s fair.” She dumps some fake sugar into her coffee. Her flask is nowhere to be seen. Maybe she’s started thinking about the reason she drinks so much.

Maybe I need to stop reading Psychology Today.

“I have some ground rules,” she says.

“I heard.” My eyes stray to the empty space beside her. Jesse’s late or else he’s not coming. Not that it matters, I tell myself. It’s better for everyone if I don’t care.

Kennedy nods slowly. “You have to understand I’ve never told anyone about this. Not the details.” She takes a sip. “But if you need to know about Lizzie . . .” She trails off.

“I do,” I say. Then, not to appear greedy, I add, “I feel like I do.”

“Okay.” She nods again. Her hair has fallen into her coffee. I wait a minute, contemplating moving it, when she finally notices. She squeezes the excess liquid with her fingertips. “I was so mad at her for so long. Then she killed herself and I . . . I wanted to feel relieved, you know?”

“Why would you feel relieved?” I lean back. I’m trying to distance myself from her confession. But I can’t separate from it; those words wrap themselves around me. The idea that anyone

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