How It Ends by Catherine Lo (classic novels to read .txt) 📗

Dr. Morgan nodded. “I also want to know that you’re going to keep doing the hard work of getting control of your anxiety. That means admitting when you need help, booking appointments with me or your therapist, and challenging yourself to face your anxiety rather than avoiding situations that make you feel anxious.”

I felt a little twinge in the back of my mind. Avoidance works for me. Avoidance is my friend. “I promise,” I said, with more conviction than I felt.

“And just because your mother is going to take a step back doesn’t mean she’s going to stop monitoring you. She’s still your mother, and it’s her job to keep you safe. Mrs. Avery, if you notice her consistently avoiding social situations or exhibiting extreme symptoms of anxiety or depression, I want you to drag her back in here, even if she’s kicking and screaming.”

My mother smiled for the first time. “You know I will.”

“This is an experiment in seeing how well you can manage yourself at this stage, Jessie. I want you to take it very seriously.” He handed me my prescription. “If you find that you’re taking an Ativan daily or if you feel like you need it to face certain situations, you need to come back in so we can adjust your primary medications. Agreed?”

“Agreed.”

The minute we got home, I packed the Ativan in my bag. I love the way the pills rattle together reassuringly. It’s like I have a bottle of confidence stashed away. I feel like I can tackle anything.

I texted Annie straightaway: Let’s do lunch with Courtney and Larissa tomorrow. I’m ready.

Her reply was almost instantaneous. You are THE BEST.

Yes. Yes, I am.

Annie

Jess is at her locker. Perfect.

I race up alongside her and wait for her to notice I’m different.

“Holy crap, you scared me,” she breathes, pushing her hair back from her face before resuming her struggle to free a book from the stack in her locker.

I roll up onto my toes, willing her to take a closer look.

She stumbles backwards as the book finally comes loose, then stows it in her bag. “Did you study for the science quiz?” she asks.

Seriously?

I shake my head and widen my eyes at her.

“Why are you being all weird?” she says, examining me closely.

I shrug. “I’m just . . . happy,” I tell her, wanting her to ask me why.

“Well, cut it out, it’s creepy.”

I frown at her, and she laughs. “I’m just teasing,” she says lightly, handing me her science notebook. “Quiz me before class?”

This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. I’m supposed to saunter up to her locker, and she’s supposed to take one look at me and say—

“You look different.”

I turn around to find Courtney strolling up to us. Finally. Someone who’s not completely blind to the fact that everything’s changed.

“You noticed,” I gush.

Courtney looks confused. “I meant you, Jessie,” she says. “Nice jeans.”

Jess’s eyes widen. “Th-thanks,” she stutters. “They’re new.”

Courtney gives me a pointed look. One that says, See, I can be nice to Jessie.

My shoulders slump. It’s not that I expected my friends to be able to see that I’m not a virgin anymore, but I did expect them to notice that I’m different. It’s like someone’s flipped on a light switch inside me, scattering the darkness.

I fall into step between Courtney and Jess as they head off toward class. I’m dying to tell them, but I feel weird bringing it up. It would be one thing if they noticed and convinced me to spill, but it’s completely different to bring it up out of the blue. What am I gonna say? Hey guys, guess what! Scott and I did the nasty, and it was freakin’ awesome. A giggle escapes me as I imagine the look on Jessie’s face.

“What the hell?” Courtney asks, watching me crack up over nothing. “Are you even listening to me?”

“Sorry, Court,” I say, catching sight of Scott up ahead. “I was thinking of something else.”

She follows my gaze and heaves a sigh. “You’re so boring since you hooked up with him.” She taps a perfectly manicured fingernail against my forehead and says, “Lunchtime, bitch. You and me. I have stories, and I want your undivided attention.”

I’m dimly aware of her sauntering away while Jessie starts in on how rude she is, but it’s all background noise, because Scott looks up and our eyes connect and it’s like an electric current is running down the hallway between us.

Every little detail comes back to me in a rush, and I feel all lit up inside.

I read a gazillion things about sex before saying yes. I checked out so many novels about people losing their virginity that I was sure the librarian would phone home. I scoured the Internet . . . I even bought an issue of CosmoGirl that had the article “How to Know When You’re Ready” advertised on the cover. So I was pretty much prepared for my first time to be disappointing. And painful. But it was neither of those things. The only ridiculous thing was that I started crying afterward because I was so overwhelmed. And then I felt like a total loser because really, who cries during sex? Not to mention that I had to spend a good half hour reassuring Scott that it was wonderful and that I had no regrets and that I didn’t feel pressured. Tears after a debut performance turn out to be stressful for a guy.

Since that first time, we can’t seem to stop. I’m almost embarrassed about how many times we did it this weekend. Almost. We’ve now had sex in Scott’s basement, in my garage, in the dugout at the park, and in the men’s bathroom at the library. We can’t spend more than five minutes together without wanting to get naked. And I’m incapable of stopping at just kissing anymore. Once we start fooling around, it’s an inevitability that we’ll end up having sex. If Mrs. Hutchins ever catches us, she’ll kill