The After Girls Read Online Free PDF

spotted her bra and dress in the corner and pulled them on quickly. Then she looked at herself in the mirror; her hair was a mess, her mascara was smudged underneath her eyes like she’d been prepped for a
Maxim
photo shoot.
    When she stood up her head started screaming at her, as if her brain was peeling away from her skull. She stared down at Max, wondering why she’d been so stupid, so pathetic. Knowing that he didn’t want anything more. That he didn’t want the real thing. Just the other things.
    Wondering if it would happen again.
    She walked away slowly, getting her balance, and headed down the stairs. The living room was strewn with plastic cups and a few people still passed out, using a castaway jacket or each other for cushion from the floor.
    Sydney found her purse tipped over on the kitchen counter. She scooped the contents back into it and headed out the door, stepping over Carter’s sleeping body as she left.
    Outside, dew kissed the grass, wetting her sandaled feet. There was a calm breeze, and Sydney gulped in breaths of fresh, real air. She walked along the side of the road; it was a straight-shot from here to her house. Her mother would likely be up with Darcy in two hours. As long as she was in bed by then, she wouldn’t ask any questions. She was sure that her mom knew that she went out sometimes, but if she said goodnight and was there in the morning, they seemed to have an unspoken agreement. Especially now during her “time of grief,” as her mother liked to call it.
    It was quiet out, as if Sydney were the only person in the whole world. If her head weren’t pounding, it would have almost been peaceful.
    She walked around her house until she reached the backyard. She’d always been the best one at climbing trees, better, always, than the boys in the playground. Better, for sure, than Astrid or Ella, though, with practice, they’d mastered the technique, as well.
    The oak tree was a good friend. It was covered in knobs and indents that made climbing an easy task. She slipped off her sandals and hooked them around her wrist. Her bare foot grasped the bark, and she felt, for a second, in control. She grabbed onto branches, shimmying herself up. The tree was old and strong; it had only failed her once, and that was when it was younger and so was she. Her arm had taken six weeks to heal.
    When she was high enough, she scooted onto the branch that nearly touched her window. It gave a little beneath her — that was normal — but her stomach seemed to twist, to knot, to rise up to her throat: Jack and Coke and bad decisions and an image of Astrid, a cigarette to her lips, swishing around inside.
    She’d left the window open; she only needed to push up the screen. With one leg still wrapped around the branch, she leaned forward and pulled herself inside, ducking her head so she wouldn’t hurt it anymore. But once she was in, her stomach contracted, and Sydney whipped around, leaning back out the window.
    Her body lurched. One time. Two times. Three times. Her throat burned bitter and acidic as her stomach emptied itself. She lurched forward one more time, hard; the motion brought tears to her eyes.
    She shook her head and wiped her hand across her eyes, spitting out all that was left in her mouth. Then she drew the curtains closed, collapsed on her bed, and shut her eyes tight, curling her body in on itself, praying at least for a little more sleep, a little more escape, before the brightness and the realness of the day inevitably took her over.

CHAPTER THREE
    Trail Mix smelled the same.
    Hazelnut coffee and floury pastries. The chairs were stacked on the tables, and the cash register sat on the counter. Just as if they were opening for any other day. Ella almost wished it was destroyed like her room. That it could show how messed up things were. But it looked like any normal coffee shop.
    The sun was already up, streaming through the windows. The world was moving again. A world without