How It Ends Read Online Free PDF Page B

She just doesn’t want to spend the money on my supplies, and it’s totally unfair. How come Sophie gets to spend two hundred dollars on a pair of jeans and I can’t buy new supplies
for school?
”
    â€œWhoa!” Sophie says. “Don’t drag me into this mess. Besides, I have an interview at the mall next week anyway. I can pay my own way, thank you very much.”
    â€œBut Sophie, your schoolwork!” Madge cries.
    â€œRelax, Mother, it’s a part-time job, not a career choice.”
    â€œI’ll get a job too, then,” I say, turning to face my dad. “I’ll pay you back every penny, but I really want new supplies. This is
important
to me.” I widen my eyes at him, willing him to understand. Art is sacred to me. It’s what ties me to my mom. I don’t want to use Madge’s cast-off leftovers for this project. I don’t want Madge involved at all.
    â€œEnough with the job talk,” Madge snaps, slapping her hand down on the table. “This isn’t about jobs
or
money. It’s about entitlement, Annie. We all know you’ve had to make adjustments, but just because your life is hard, that doesn’t mean you get to do whatever you want and get whatever you ask for.”
    I grip the edge of my chair to prevent myself from launching across the table and slapping the smug expression off her face. I can’t believe she’s calling
me
entitled.
    â€œDad,” I say, ignoring her, “you
know
I never ask for anything. I’m not being unreasonable here. I’m asking for stuff for school.”
    â€œYou girls are killing me,” my dad groans. “You know that, don’t you?”
    Madge and I both sit on the edge of our seats, waiting to see whose side he’ll take.
    â€œOf course you can have the supplies you need, Annie. We are not in such dire financial straits that we can’t afford materials for school.”
    I beam at him.
    â€œHowever,” he says ominously, “Madeleine does bring up an important point. You can’t just ignore everything she asks you to do. We’re a family now, and you need to show Madeleine the appropriate respect. It’s not fair to her that you don’t follow the rules she sets out.”
    I can feel Madge’s gloating eyes on me, and I refuse to give her the satisfaction of a reaction.
    â€œThe plan she’s proposing seems perfectly reasonable to me,” he goes on. “No one is forcing you to use old materials that don’t meet your needs, but it’s only logical that you should at least look through what we have to see if there’s anything worth saving . . .”
    â€œFine,” I say, knowing I won’t find anything useful.
    â€œAnd I want to see you put a genuine effort into reusing anything that might work,” Madge lectures, unable to hold back. “In fact, I plan to compare your shopping list to what’s down there to make sure you’re keeping up your end of the bargain.”
    I glare at her before turning to my dad. “Are we done here? I’d like to be excused.”
    Dad looks to Madge for approval, making my blood boil.
    â€œShe hasn’t finished her dinner,” Madge says disapprovingly, “but I suppose if she clears her space and agrees to make more of an effort . . .”
    I stand up before she can finish her sentence and gather my dishes with a clatter.
Make more of an effort.
What a bitch. Madge hardly even
talks
to me, except to order me around and remind me that she’s in charge. She slobbers all over Sophie, giving her every little thing she asks for, and then ignores me ninety percent of the time.
    Back in my room, I flop onto my bed and fumble with my headphones, pushing them into my ears and cranking up the volume on my iPod until the music is punishingly loud. Three Days Grace’s “I Hate Everything About You” slams into my brain, obliterating the image