Sometimes Never, Sometimes Always Read Online Free

my broken ass. At least I’m not a Vomit Vixen. Their newspaper may look good on my college applications, but is it worth this? Is it worth this to me, to Cassandra?
    “No, we don’t have any of those,” says the nurse. She sighs. “Look. You ladies need to head to class. You’re already tardy.”
    “ What? We were helping our friend get here after she fell! You have to give us a pass to homeroom.” Britney is indignant. I can see her writing up the story now—a shockingly honest exposé on the woeful state of the health care system at Gordon High.
    The nurse sighs again, dragging a small blue pad of passes out of the drawer of her desk. “You could ask ,” she says, her cursive angry and cramped.
    “And you could take some lessons in bedside manner,” snaps Britney.
    The nurse doesn’t respond; in fact, she looks past Britney as though she’s not standing there. Then her apathy slips away into a warm concern, and she stands up and starts toward the door. “Oh, Drew honey, you poor thing. Need your pills again today?” Am I imagining the smug look the nurse points at the perky twins? “I’ll get you a glass of water right away, hon, and let me know if you need anything else.”
    Seriously? Drew is here? Eff my life, I can’t escape this girl.
    “Hi, Cassandra,” she says. Her voice is small and her eyes dart over at Britney and Annika nervously. “Are you all right?”
    I smile. “Yeah, I fell on the stairs in the junior hall.” Lame .
    “Drew Godfrey?” Annika’s voice is syrupy. “How are you?”
    Drew’s answering smile is thin but hopeful. “I’m okay,” she says. “It’s just … normal stuff.” She waves a pudgy hand in the air aimlessly. For a moment her sleeve falls up around her elbow, and the skin on her arm is red and scabby. Quickly her fingers tug the sleeve back down, over the backs of her hands. I try to remember if I’ve ever seen her arms before.
    “Oh, good ,” says Annika, smiling even more. “I was worried for a minute that you might have head lice again.” She and Britney take the blue pass and they both waggle their fingers at me. “See you soon, Cassie!” they say in perky harmony.
    “Sorry you got injured on the stairs!” says Annika.
    “Maybe you should sue the school,” says Britney. “They totally didn’t have a wet floor sign out!” And then they’re gone. And Drew and I sit here in the hard plastic chairs, both of us nursing our humiliation in silence.
    “I never had head lice,” she says after a while.
    Okay. I try to think of something to say. “So you’re taking some pills?” Obviously, I don’t think long enough before speaking.
    Drew is one of those people who never look you directly in the eye; instead, her eyes search and search along my hairline like a confused newborn. “It’s my eczema,” she says. “It’s all over my body. It’s itchy, and I have anxiety, and then it gets itchier, so then I scratch, and it gets scabby, and that makes me anxious, so I pick at it, and that makes it get itchier.” She rubs her hands over her arms.
    Gross. I struggle for an appropriate response to this level of oversharing. “Um. That sucks.” I mean, it’s not like I’m judging her for having eczema. She can’t help that, I guess. But … I don’t know. I didn’t really need to know about her scabby rash, that’s all. I feel terrible, but seriously, do I need to know about anyone’s scabby rash? I’m not a freaking dermatologist.
    The nurse hands her a paper cup of water, and Drew swallows two pills before her eyes roam my way again. They’re muddy eyes, a leftover color like dried paint stuck to the art room tables, a color without any brightness in it.
    “Yeah,” she says. “It does suck.” She crushes the paper cup in her fist. “But I never had head lice.”

7. In your spare time …
    The pain is less by math class, and my butt is only slightly sore by the time English rolls around. This is the first class I have with