Chapters (45)
- Cover
- Dedication
- Pulse
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY–ONE
- TWENTY–TWO
- TWENTY–THREE
- TWENTY–FOUR
- TWENTY–FIVE
- TWENTY–SIX
- TWENTY–SEVEN
- TWENTY–EIGHT
- TWENTY–NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY–ONE
- THIRTY–TWO
- THIRTY–THREE
- THIRTY–FOUR
- THIRTY–FIVE
- THIRTY–SIX
- THIRTY–SEVEN
- THIRTY–EIGHT
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- RESOURCES
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
- What’s next onyour reading list?
TROUGH OF SORROW • The period of struggle a startup faces after a significant setback, when quitting seems the most reasonable option
LUCY’S SHEETS TRAPPED HER like a straitjacket. Instead of sleeping, she’d turned this way and that, twisting her bedding around her. As the morning light filtered through the window, she clawed and kicked her way free.
None of them had slept much. Somewhere around midnight and again at about three, Delia had tried to get them to talk about what had happened, but Maddie just hugged the wall, her back to them, and Lucy remained quiet, knowing there was nothing to say.
Nothing she could say. Because this was all her fault.
It was the username. She’d recognized it immediately. “PissingInATinCan.” Aka Gavin Cox. Did he want her to know it was him? Or did he think she wouldn’t remember? She needed it to be the latter. The latter meant he was using any and every advantage to win; the latter at least she could understand even if she had no idea how he could have done it. But the former, being that mean, that vindictive against her, hurt in a place so deep Lucy didn’t have a name for it.
A Maddie-sized bundle lay buried under her covers, but Delia’s bed was empty. Lucy set her feet on the floor and unplugged her phone from its charger.
The ValleyStart daily text mocked her:
ValleyStart: Week 5 and still alive? Then tonight you better crack the whip, for tomorrow’s our Pulse field trip!
The tour of Ryan’s company. Lucy jammed her finger down and deleted the text.
She then opened her email. Only one new message downloaded, the bold lettering forming a word Lucy had been able to spell since she was four. Her heart wedged itself in her throat.
Please.
Her finger gently tapped the screen, and she closed her eyes, knowing when she opened them, her world would never be the same.
She opened. She read. She kept reading. She read again. And again. And again and again and again and it never changed.
How could it not change?
She ripped off her pajamas, wanted to keep ripping, right through her skin, this skin that was being eaten alive by something devouring it from the inside, something she couldn’t stop even if she wanted to. And she didn’t. She didn’t want to be in this skin any more than she wanted to be here in this room, in this dorm, in this life. She just didn’t . . . didn’t want . . . she didn’t have anything left to want.
She tore the pennant off her wall, jumped out of bed, and clawed through her closet, yanking her exercise tights and tank off the hanger so hard that she fell back against the bunk bed. The thud roused Maddie.
“I’m trying to sleep,” Maddie groaned.