diaamandis: переводы

→He deserves it, she remembered saying mere days ago. Everyone hates him. They’re all just too scared to admit it. We’d be heroes.

→They’d been friends for years, but after that night, he never spoke to her again. He pretended as if she didn’t exist. And meanwhile, it was all his fault. If he hadn’t given her those pills, things would be different now. She would be her old self. Undamaged. Beautiful, full of life. Present. Perfect.

→Parker’s memory began to spin with thoughts of Nolan. Climbing in the car with him. Laughing at his dirty jokes. Driving fast along the coastal road to chase away the fear. The shiny feeling from drinking almost a whole bottle of vodka between the two of them. And then, that last night, when he slipped OxyContin into her drink without telling her. Afterward he’d said, Isn’t it amazing? No charge. My gift to you.

→Irony of ironies, considering Nolan had been the biggest bully of all.

→And then came the kicker: the image of Nolan that Mackenzie had posted online shortly after the party, the one with the writing on his face. The picture was mostly blurred out, but the comments below—a long paragraph telling the world how horrible Nolan was—were not. So it was going to be a bullying assembly, too.

→Parker flinched. Ava’s words from that day in film studies floated up so naturally in her mind that it was as if Ava were right beside her, whispering in her ear. She looked at the stage again. Mr. Obata, the principal, was flipping through some slides for the presentation he was about to give. Some were pictures of Nolan through the years—winning the lacrosse state championship, being crowned homecoming king, holding court in the cafeteria. Parker was even in a few of them, from back when she and Nolan had been friends. Other slides were generic images of prescription pills. So this was also going to have an antidrug message, since all the rumors said he’d accidentally overdosed on OxyContin, his drug of choice.

→They swept down the hall, passing by Randy, the hippie janitor, who was working his hardest to keep the school squeaky-clean at all times. The auditorium was ahead, and Julie pushed open the heavy wooden door. The large room was filled with kids, yet it felt eerily quiet. A lot of people were sniffling. More shook their heads. A knot of girls hugged. As soon as Parker saw the big picture of Nolan on the stage, her blood pressure dropped. The letters RIP were spelled out in flowers beneath his photo.

→Parker rolled her eyes. Her friend was in what Parker had always called Mama Bear Mode, fierce and protective. Parker had to keep remembering that it was endearing, especially because no one else cared whether she lived or died. Julie was the only remaining vestige of Parker’s old life, and now that Parker was shrouded in shadow, Julie was Beacon’s new It Girl. Not that Parker begrudged her the title. Julie had her own demons to battle; she just wore her scars on the inside.