Instructions for the End of the World by Jamie Kain

about because she’ll want to spend it on something stupid like economy-size bags of beans. But I could take ten dollars and hitchhike to town and buy myself some dinner.
    I look gross, so I wipe the sweat smell off as best I can with some facial cleansing wipes I have in my cosmetic bag, and I pull my hair back in a fresh ponytail and put on my favorite baseball cap. Then some fresh clothes and I almost look normal. I put on some deodorant and a spritz of the body spray my mom bought me for Christmas, even though Dad forbids us from wearing perfume, and I smell pretty normal, too.
    I can hardly believe I finally have some real freedom for the first time in my life and I can’t even take a shower before enjoying it. One thing’s for sure, though—I’m not letting it go to waste.
    When Nicole isn’t looking I slip out the front door, ease the creaky screen door shut silently, and head for town while it’s still light out.
    LAUREL
    I am riding in Pauly’s van with Pauly and Kiva when we spot the girl on the side of the road, her thumb stuck out halfheartedly, like she isn’t really sure if she wants someone to pick her up. She is young and pretty, maybe early teens, with a body that guys like Kiva find as distracting as shiny objects.
    â€œWhat have we here?” Kiva says as Pauly slows down and pulls to the side of the road where gravel meets grass.
    I roll down the window. “Want a ride?”
    She forces a smile. “I’m going into town, if you’re headed that way.”
    â€œIt’s your lucky day.”
    Kiva leans over and opens the rear door on her side for her, and I already know the scenario that’s going to play out. He’s going to do everything he can to get in her pants, and unless she’s got an iron will, he will succeed. He is, at the fully pubescent age of sixteen, ridiculously determined to put himself as far from virginity in the shortest amount of time he can manage.
    This girl, though, she looks fresh. Untouched. Close up, I’d guess she’s fourteen years old.
    I catch a scent of some kind of fake raspberry stuff when she gets into the car, and when I turn to look at her I realize she resembles one of the new girls Wolf described. Same olive skin, same dark, straight hair, same vaguely Asian features.
    â€œWhat’s your name?” I ask.
    â€œIsabel,” she says.
    â€œI’m Laurel, and this is Pauly,” I say, nodding toward him.
    â€œI’m Kiva,” Kiva says from the backseat.
    â€œThanks for picking me up.”
    â€œDidn’t your parents tell you never to hitchhike?” Pauly asks, peering at her in the rearview mirror, his tone slightly flirtatious even though he’s totally, one hundred percent gay.
    She shrugs. “Probably.”
    â€œYou must be new around here, or I’d recognize you,” Kiva says.
    â€œI’m just here temporarily. Do you guys go to the high school here?”
    â€œNot exactly,” I say. “There’s a school at Sadhana Village that we attend.”
    â€œI’m a graduate of the school of life,” says Pauly.
    â€œI’m studying the art of being,” says Kiva, which is pretty much true for him. I haven’t seen him crack open a book any time in recent memory.
    â€œWe decide for ourselves what we’re going to study at the World Peace School.”
    â€œThe World Peace School? Is that really what it’s called?”
    â€œYep.”
    â€œYou guys all live together?” the girl asks.
    â€œSomething like that,” Pauly says. “You should come over and see our place. It’ll blow your mind.”
    I refrain from an eye roll. I don’t know what about a bunch of hippies in dorms and cabins is supposed to impress anyone, but I’ve lived there almost my whole life, so I guess I’m a bit jaded. I know what the village is, and what it isn’t. I know it has never lived up to the spiritual