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overly interested in what I’m doing.”

Scott put his arm around her consolingly. “Poor you,” he joked. “Stuck here with me and Jess.” He leaned over and winked at me, turning my insides to liquid fire.

“I guess I’ll just have to cope,” Annie said, laughing.

I pulled an envelope out of my bag and presented it to her with a flourish. “Happy sixteenth!”

Annie’s eyes went wide as she opened the card and found the gift certificate to Morton’s Art Supply inside. “Jess!” she said, blinking back tears. “This is my favorite place in the world.” She gave me a long hug. “Thank you.”

I pulled back and searched her eyes. She’s been in denial about the whole pregnancy thing. She won’t even talk about it.

Annie winked at me and clutched the card to her chest before leaning forward and resting her forehead against mine.

“You okay?” I whispered.

She nodded. “This helps.”

I took another sip of my drink and settled back into the couch, feeling warm and . . . happy. The alcohol was starting to do its job, and I felt so wondrously relaxed and content. Prozac alone has never done this for me. Prozac mixed with alcohol was amazing.

And that’s where my memory gets choppy. The parts of the night I do remember are vivid, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t piece together what happened in between those memories. It makes me sick to think of what I may have forgotten.

After being on the couch with Annie and Scott, I suddenly found myself in a group of girls who had their claws out, gossiping mercilessly about our classmates. Emily was there, and Larissa, which is tragic, because I remember clearly how I bashed Courtney and called her a bitch. I felt like I was flying at the time, though, and I suddenly understood why Courtney is so mean. I felt powerful and beautiful and free. Being on the inside was like a drug, and when the other girls laughed at my impersonation of Courtney, the pure joy of it flooded my veins.

A heartbeat later and I was back on the couch with Scott. I don’t know where Annie was. I was sleepy, and I leaned my head on his shoulder. He was asking me something, but I couldn’t make out the words. I knew I should lift my head and look at him, but it felt so good to lean into his strong arm and pretend that he was my boyfriend for a few minutes.

“Are you okay?” he asked, moving away from me so that my head bobbed.

He caught hold of my chin and searched my face with those puppy dog eyes of his. “Mmmhmmm,” I said, smiling. “So happy tonight.”

His face melted into a smile that showed off his dimples. “Jessica Avery,” he scolded playfully, “you’ve been drinking.”

“Shhhh!” I said, flirting with him. “Don’t tell my mom.”

His laugh was deep, and I felt it vibrating in my chest. He was so perfect. I love you, I thought to myself.

But when his eyes widened and he jumped up off the couch, it dawned on me that perhaps I’d said the words out loud.

“I think maybe it’s time we got you home,” he said, backing away like I might leap on top of him. I definitely said them out loud.

Then I was dancing in a crowd by the speakers and the room was swirling around me in the most intoxicating way. I felt like I was one beat ahead of the music all the time, dancing the way I’d always wished I could. This must be the key to dancing, I thought. Letting go.

Then Courtney was beside me. “I see we’ve conquered our anxiety for the evening,” she shouted over the music. The words slithered out of her mouth and wrapped themselves around my chest, squeezing with that familiar pressure. I wanted to punch her for ruining my moment of freedom. I was suddenly hyperaware of my body, and I went from dancing with abandon to stumbling over my own feet.

I pushed my sweaty hair back and met Courtney’s gaze. “What did you say?”

“You know, your crippling anxiety that prevents you from being normal—it doesn’t seem to be a problem tonight. You seem super comfortable hanging out with all my friends and calling me a bitch.”

The room swayed while I tried to make sense of what she was saying. Now that I was standing still, the room should really have stopped moving. I opened my mouth to toss a witty comeback her way . . .

And instead I puked. All over Courtney.

Larissa screeched, the music stopped, and all of a sudden all eyes were on me. I swayed for a moment, and Annie was there to prop me up. Annie. Courtney. A horrible truth was revealing itself in my mind.

“Have you been drinking?” Annie asked, her face contorted with disbelief. I stared at her, letting Courtney’s words play back in my head. Crippling anxiety.

“Jessie,” Annie said slowly, looking worried, “is it okay to mix alcohol with your medication?”

My medication? I yanked my arm away from her and swayed dangerously, afraid I might throw up again. “What are you talking about—medication?”

Annie fidgeted, looking around for support.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Courtney yelled, pulling her soaking shirt away from her body. “Your crazy girl meds. The ones that keep you from being a complete and utter psycho like you are right now.”

The last thing I saw before the room went black was Annie’s guilt-ridden face.

The next thing I knew, I was being loaded into my mom’s car, and she was on the phone with someone asking about drug interactions. Annie was crying and apologizing over and over again. And that’s when I put it together. I heard my mother’s voice in my mind—I think it might be time for you to tell Annie about your anxiety. I leaned forward, puked all over her car, and then surrendered to the darkness again.

That’s all I remember before waking up this morning with a headache so intense I thought someone was

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