by Natalie Standiford
ages: 14+
First sentence: “Goebbels materialized on the back patio, right before we moved to Baltimore, and started chewing through the wicker love seat.”
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The jacket-flap of this book says it’s for those who have experienced “the wonderful, treacherous, consuming, meaningful world of true friendship”. So, I think I expected something profound, something deep, something… less angsty. But then, it is a teen novel, and angst is the name of the game.

Bea Szabo has moved to Baltimore for her senior year. She’s moved a lot — her dad is a serial one-year college appointment professor — and so has some expectations about her new school. Then the alphabet conspires — they have to sit in alphabetical order for Assembly — to put her next to Jonah Tate, aka Ghost Boy, who hasn’t made a new friend since third grade. See, his mother and twin brother died in a car wreck, and he’s basically shut down. Until he meets Bea. Together these two loners find some kind of solace together in their not-quite-boyfriend/girlfriend-but-somehow-more-than-just-friends. There’s ups — the late-night call-in show that they both listen to, or the trip to Ocean City instead of going to prom. And there’s downs — if you’re not really boyfriend/girlfriend, is it okay to go out with other people? Not to mention the fights and disagreements.

Standiford takes us on an interesting, if angst-filled, journey with these two. There are humorous moments, and the overall story arc, especially involving Jonah’s family, was intriguing. Unfortunately, it was one of those books where I, personally, couldn’t divorce myself from my age and experience: I kept shaking my head because the two of them acted like the kids they are. Sure, I empathized: who hasn’t had an up-and-down relationship with someone, wondering if they’ll talk to you, wanting to help but being powerless. I understand feeling deeply, wanting more, and I even understand heartbreak. I just thought this all was a bit overmuch.

I have nothing wrong with angst. But then, too much of a good thing is always bad.