Perfectly Good White Boy
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- $9.99
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- $9.99
Publisher Description
"You never know where we'll end up. There's so much possibility in life, you know?" Hallie said. Sean Norwhalt can read between the lines. He knows Hallie's just dumped him. He was a perfectly good summer boyfriend, but now she's off to college, and he's still got another year to go. Her pep talk about futures and "possibilities" isn't exactly comforting. Sean's pretty sure he's seen his future and its "possibilities," and they all look DISPOSABLE. Like the crappy rental his family moved into when his dad left. Like all the unwanted filthy old clothes he stuffs into the rag baler at his thrift-store job. Like everything good he's ever known. The only hopeful possibilities in Sean's life are the Marine Corps, where no one expected he'd go, and Neecie Albertson, whom he never expected to care about. Carrie Mesrobian follows her critically acclaimed debut, Sex & Violence, with another powerful and wrenching portrait of a teenage boy on the precipice of the new American future.
PUBLISHERS WEEKLY
As his junior year ends, people keep asking Sean Norwhalt what he'll do next. But it's hard to focus on that, when his alcoholic father is gone and he's living with his mother in a crappy rental. Then a pretty senior's Frisbee hits in him the face, and suddenly he has a girlfriend his first. Mesrobian, who took on hookup culture in her acclaimed debut, Sex and Violence, excels at conveying the awkwardness and wonder of sex, and the erotic life of a teenage boy (in this case featuring Sean's constant, albeit inconvenient hormonal companion, "The Horn"). Sean's not interested in college, and the main events of senior year are his job at the Thrift Bin; his growing friendship with Neecie, a classmate and co-worker with her own sex quandary; and deciding whether to join the Marines. As Sean comes to some peace with his family, spends time with Neecie, and makes some decisions, nothing very dramatic happens. Yet Mesrobian deftly conveys just how much drama there is in the everyday, especially for a 17-year-old trying to figure out not just what's next, but what's happening right now. Ages 13 up.