OCD Love Story by Corey Ann Haydu (review)

Bea first meets Beck at a school dance, and she's delighted with their meet-cute (she helps him get a grip when he starts having a panic attack after the power goes out). They meet again, much to her horror, when he turns up in the group therapy session her therapist insists she join. Bea's fine with helping Beck with his anxieties, even resignedly enabling him as he compulsively hits the gym and washes his hands (always in sets of eight), but she's not ready to admit to herself, let alone to him, that her compulsions drive her life too. She organizes her life (all sharp objects put away) and her driving (30 miles per hour max) to make sure she couldn't hurt anybody, and she obsessively, stalkerishly, documents the activities of a couple who share her therapist. Bea is a completely endearing original, and the book manages to subtly steer her narration through denial of her condition to acceptance without ever losing her essential charisma; her set of compulsions is particularly apt for illustrating how easy it can be to defensively rationalize problematic behavior (safety is important, right?). While her relationship with Beck is touching, it's her relationship with her long-term best friend, Lisha, that offers the most complex commentary: Lisha loves Bea to pieces, but she's fed up with a friendship that's dominated by Bea's compulsions and unhappy about the level of stigma that an alliance with Bea means embracing. Bea remains witty, affecting, and ferociously individual throughout, and readers will delight to know her as they understand her—and possibly themselves—better.