I was so pleasantly surprised by this one. It was an excellent choice to be reading on my birthday* to make up for the fact that my body is slowly succumbing to the forces of entropy.
*Which was now over a month ago, whoopsie.
I’m wary with YA these days, especially contemporary YA, because I want a good story and good characters, not plot gimmicks and sensationalism, and books that are read by people like I used to be as a teenager (no discernment whatsoever). This book absolutely delivers. It’s so full of all these wonderful specifics. The main character is a such a huge, procedural kind of nerd and the story is formatted like it is her school project, because it is. There are transcripts of phone calls and chat logs, and interviews. The story is also extremely emotionally affecting, and perfectly balances between that excitement that good mysteries give you where your brain wants to go oOOoOOh that’s neat, and also your brain wants to feel feelings.
Literally the only reason I didn’t give this book five stars is that it features the absolute WORST attempt at Americanization I have ever heard of from a British author. It was so BLATANT. Like, did you guys even try, American publishers? Also, why was this even set in America if the author is British? Set it in the UK! Or get whatever the equivalent of a fanfic Brit-picker is for Americans (Britpickers are people who essentially beta read Americans’ Sherlock fanfics to make sure we’re not making stupid American mistakes, and no I’m not telling you where my Sherlock fic is, you can’t make me–anyway, I’m one of those a-holes who didn’t get their fics Britpicked because I’m antisocial, mostly, not bc I think I know British culture all that well). I do not “ring” my friends, I call them. I do not go anywhere on the Saturday. I go somewhere on Saturday. Those are just two very small examples; there were a bunch.
Anyways, ultimately, I super enjoyed this and will be reading the second two books in the trilogy later this year. My TBR is crying.
