Anything but Normal by Melody Carlson Page A

She looked him in the eyes, and he actually seemed relieved.
    “That’s what I suspected.” He smiled. “If it’s any consolation, these things always get better with time.”
    “Thanks.” But all she could think was that this particular thing would only get bigger with time—and much, much worse.
    “And sometimes the best medicine is to lose yourself in something you love, like journalism. It’s a good distraction.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “So, what do you think? Do you want to be this year’s chief editor?”
    Whether it was the kindness in his voice or the touch of his hand, something in her just shattered, and she knew she was about to cry. Without answering him, she turned and dashed from his office, tore out of the journalism room, and headed straight for the bathroom and into a stall. Not to barf but to bawl.
    As Sophie was blowing her nose, she heard a tapping sound. “Huh?”
    “It’s Justina,” a quiet voice said. “Mr. Young sent me to check on you.”
    Justina Coughlin was another journalism geek. Shy and unsure of herself, she sometimes loomed behind Sophie, quietly observing as Sophie worked on something. She reminded Sophie of a shadow.
    “I’m fine,” Sophie said.
    “Are you sick or something?”
    Sophie opened the door and stared at Justina. She was about the same height as Sophie, but stick-thin and not in the model-cool way. With stringy, dishwater-blonde hair and a complexion that resembled a childhood disease, Justina wasn’t exactly a head turner. “I’m fine,” Sophie said again.
    “Were you crying?”
    Sophie shrugged as she went for the sink, ran cold water, and splashed it onto her face.
    “Did Mr. Young say something mean to you?”
    Sophie tore off a paper towel, dried her face, and turned back to Justina. “No, he didn’t say anything mean . Not that it’s any of your business, but he asked me to be chief editor.”
    “Oh.” Justina looked confused and hurt, and Sophie felt guilty.
    “I’m sorry,” Sophie said quickly. “It’s not your fault.”
    “So . . . you’re upset because Mr. Young asked you to be chief editor?”
    “Not exactly.” Sophie sighed. “Maybe I’m just hormonal.”
    “PMS?” Justina pressed. “I know what you mean. I get it really bad too. My mom’s the same way.”
    “Yeah.” Sophie nodded as if that was the problem. If only that was the problem.
    “Do you want to go back to class now?”
    “Not really.”
    “Yeah, I don’t blame you. It’s probably pretty embarrassing.” Justina brightened. “Want me to get your stuff for you?”
    Sophie considered this. It’s not like she could just skip out on class and expect no consequences. What if someone called her parents? The last thing she needed was for them to be questioning her.
    “I can tell Mr. Young that you’re not feeling good.”
    Sophie nodded. “Yeah, would you do that?”
    “If you go to the counselor and tell her you have a bad case of PMS, she’ll write you an excuse.”
    “Seriously?”
    “Yeah. I had to do that once. Actually, this girl had teased me, and, well, I was already having a crappy day and I kind of fell apart. But Mrs. Phelps was really nice about it. She’s really understanding.”
    Sophie waited in the restroom while Justina returned to get Sophie’s things. She wondered what exactly Justina would say to Mr. Young. Hopefully she wouldn’t mention hormones or PMS. And what if Wes asked what was up? What would Justina tell him?
    As embarrassing as it would be, maybe the smartest thing would be for Sophie to simply return and face the music. She could make a joke about it. Act like she’d been so touched by being asked to be chief editor that she’d gotten emotional. Of course, then she’d need to respond to the offer. Was she willing to be chief editor? Would it be better to just pass? Or would that draw even more unwanted attention?
    “Here you go.” Justina handed Sophie her bag and the hoodie that she’d left