Possessing Jessie by Nancy Springer Page B

pressed slacks.
    A teacher.
    â€œJessie Ressler!” the man barked at her. “Jessica!”
    She looked up into the eyes of her brother’s wrestling coach, who also taught American history.
    He softened his tone slightly. “Jessie, I’m sure there is an explanation for this.”
    If there was, Jessie didn’t know, except–the way it had helped Mom, was that the reason?
    â€œJessie?”
    Feeling very tired, she let her eyes slip away from his.
    He turned stern again. “Jessica, I know you loved your brother very much.”
    He had no idea how much. Like a lot of other people, she had practically worshipped Jason. The whole school cheering for Jason, handsome Jason grinning after winning yet another wrestling trophy, his glance finding her in the stands so he could give her a wink … Jessie bit her lip to keep from crying. She had adored him.
    â€œBut if this is your way of honoring your brother’s memory, I must say it’s in very bad taste.”
    Dully Jessie wondered whether she was in trouble. She’d never been in any kind of trouble in school. But compared to Jason dying, it no longer seemed to matter much.
    â€œMay I go?” she asked almost in a whisper. “I have to get to class.”
    â€œI suppose.… I can’t think of any rule …” Grim-faced, Coach stood aside and let her pass.
    Some kids came up to her in homeroom and asked her “Why?” But she had no answer, no response, because something, maybe the angry voices and shouting, had started the tape, a sort of video in her mind, making her live through the accident again and again. It turned itself on whenever it wanted, and she could not turn it off. Vaguely she was aware of kids calling her crazy to her face, psycho, wacko. A few of them were the same kids who had texted her after the accident: 2 bad sory, i pray 4 U, so sad, hugs hugs hugs. But now they acted like they hated her.
    As if from a distance, like she was watching through binoculars, she saw one exception–Alisha, her best friend. Alisha stepped up to defend her. With her hands on her hips, Alisha growled, “Hey, Jessie, are these jerks bothering you? If you want, I’ll throw them out the window.” And Alisha might actually do it. She was a big girl, a tough girl. Nobody messed with Alisha.
    Jessie managed to smile and say, “Thanks, Alisha, it’s okay. I’m fine.” But she was not fine. She was sweating ice as the tape kept playing and the memories took over.

Chapter Three
    â€œI wish Dad were here” Jessie had muttered as she got into the car with Jason, and that had started the same old argument.
    Jason always got testosterone-prone when he was driving anyway. “Dad had a right to walk out. I mean, any man would get tired of Mom and her stupid backache.”
    â€œNo, he didn’t.” Jessie understood how her mother felt: betrayed. Jessie felt the same way; how could her father do that to her? Just leave her? Like she was worth nothing? Like throwing away a paper cup? “If he and Mom had problems, he should have tried to fix them.”
    â€œMaybe he did. How would we know?”
    â€œWe know they didn’t go for counseling–”
    â€œLike Dad would go to a shrink? Give me a break. Face it, Sis, Mom wasn’t giving him what a guy wants.”
    Ow. TMI. But Jessie pushed the thought aside and talked right past it, getting to the point she was trying to make. “But he walked out on her , supposedly. He didn’t walk out on you and me. Why doesn’t he call us once in a while?”
    â€œYeah, well, good question.” Although Jason tried to keep his studly tone, his voice lowered. “I don’t know the answer, Sis.”
    Silence, except for the rumble of the red car.
    I thought Dad loved me .… Jessie bit her lip. Sitting in the Mustang’s passenger seat, watching Jason lean too far back and hold the steering