Populazzi - By Elise Allen Page 0,29

And from now on, that's exactly what I'd do. I'd keep my head down, study, and work like crazy so there was no doubt I'd get into Northwestern.

That's when everything would change: college. I was done with the social scene at Chrysella, I was done with banging my head against the wall, and despite what Claudia wanted, I was definitely done with the Ladder.

Chapter Ten

Claudia wasn't happy when I told her I had no intention of ever getting back on the Ladder again. I drove to her house to let the bomb drop, then watched her do a ten-minute dumb show of frustration. She threw her arms in the air and stormed away just far enough that it seemed she was leaving me forever—despite the fact that I was in her house and sitting on her bed, so that clearly wasn't an option—then turned her head to me and stared daggers. She stalked back and eyed me appraisingly, twitching her braided loops in a way that should have been physically impossible. She reached her arms to the sky, imploring the Lord Above to help her, help her save this lost and confused soul. She paced in front of me, arms clasped behind her back, and discussed me as if to a jury.

"I ask you," she asked no one, "what am I supposed to do with this woman? How do you help someone who has no idea what's truly good for her? What more can I do?"

I piped up and entered into evidence one fact I hadn't mentioned: that I'd managed to strike up what could conceivably be called a friendship with a member of the Happy Hopeless.

Claudia fell to her knees in shock.

All told, she reveled in her outrage for about a half hour. Then she brought out the Uno cards. After she beat me, I borrowed her mom's old bike and we made the several-mile trek out to Core Creek Park, where we cooled off with an easy cruise by the lake before turning around and cranking it back to Claude's. The fall air was just crisp enough to burn my lungs each time I strained uphill, standing in the saddle and fighting to keep my momentum. I wasn't the most coordinated rider—I had to look straight ahead or I'd veer off in whatever direction my gaze wandered. Still, I couldn't help letting my eyes roam the trees that lined the streets. Every leaf had exploded into color—huge, beautiful flakes of red, orange, and yellow. With each gust of wind, they burst off their branches and rained down on us. It felt like riding through confetti.

That was Sunday, and Sunday was fantastic.

Monday, however, was a misery. I knew I'd have to see Archer. I considered playing sick, but that would only postpone the agony. I reminded myself school was a job, not a social opportunity, and it was time to go to work.

The whole drive there, I fantasized about getting into a car crash. It couldn't be my fault, of course, and I wouldn't want to get hurt in a life- or long-term-quality-of-life-threatening way, but if the crash put me into a coma until after graduation, that would be good.

They say people can hear things in a coma, and I had faith that my mom would read textbooks to me so I'd stay up to date on schoolwork. By the time I woke up, I could ace a GED and go right on to college. Northwestern would go crazy for me. The "I Spent Junior and Senior Years in a Coma" story would make a great application essay. Karl would burst with pride. Maybe I'd even end up on The Today Show. Then I could land a motivational speaking tour and make so much money I wouldn't even need college. I'd still go, of course, but money wouldn't be an issue. I'd even give Karl a monthly allowance so he could hit the blackjack tables guilt-free.

Unfortunately, by now I was pulling into school, and since I was decidedly not in a coma, I had to deal.

I saw Archer within two seconds of walking in, but he wasn't waiting for me at my locker. He was back by his old window seat with Ember, Sue, Dinah, and the rest of the gang. He stood in the middle of their group, making them all laugh, but he froze when he saw me.

Of course he did. He had thought it was perfectly clear we were just friends, and I'd thrown myself on

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