Cancelled - Hardcover

Penn, Farrah

Hardcover

ISBN 10: 0593528301 ISBN 13: 9780593528303

Verlag: Viking Books for Young Readers, 2024

Inhaltsangabe

With its clever snark and searing perspective, Cancelled is a funny, fearless novel about the realistic pitfalls and unforgettable moments high school has to offer, perfect for fans of Jenny Han and Emma Lord.

Not to brag, but Brynn Whittaker is basically killing her senior year. She's got the looks, the grades, and a thriving "flirt coach" business that will help pay for her ultimate dream school: Stanford University. 

But when a highly incriminating video goes viral after the first rager of the year, Brynn finds herself at the center of a school-wide scandal of catastrophic proportions. She knows she's not the girl in the video hooking up with her former best friend's boyfriend (While wearing a banana costume, no less. Hey, points for style), but adding that to her reputation of being a serial dater, she quickly starts losing friends and customers. On top of that, the scorn she receives exposes the culture of misogyny that is rampant at her school . . . and Brynn and her three best friends are determined to take down all the haters. 

But as she gets closer to identifying the person in the video that got her cancelled, Brynn must decide—is exposing the girl worth losing everything she's worked so hard for?

This witty, unapologetic novel by Farrah Penn boldly tackles the problematic double standards that seek to bring girls down, and shines a light on the loving, uplifting friendships that can help them make it through those brutal four years.

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Farrah Penn is an author and writer living in Los Angeles whose work has appeared on Buzzfeed, Bustle, and more. Follow her on Twitter and Instagram @FarrahPenn.

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Last night I’d broken up with my boyfriend. In a banana costume no less.
I think about texting Otto to make sure he’s okay but reconsider. I shouldn’t open that line of communication. I’m sure he doesn’t want to hear from me.
It wasn’t an awful breakup. In fact, none of my relationships—­flirtationships, situationships, whatever you want to call them—­have ended in a dramatic demise. They have, however, all ended because of me.
Well, except for one.
The thing is, I can sense impending disappointment like a dog sensing an earthquake right before it hits. And when I do, I get out before there’s lasting damage. Heartache isn’t an experiment worth repeating. It’s mentally taxing and extremely unfun. I’d rather be alone until I can chase another heart-­pattering high that will eventually peter out.
Anyway, feelings don’t fix problems. Look at my mother. My dad left, my brother is never around, and whenever shit hits the fan, who has to fix it?
Me.
I’d felt the familiar disappointment sink in last night. Otto drove us to Keith Whittle’s after-­party once the school’s Halloween dance came to a modest end at nine-thirty, but not before we stopped at the abandoned car wash off Clifford Avenue—­aka our usual hookup spot.
Otto’s BMW was tight quarters, but it was better than my nonexistent vehicle that provided exactly zero privacy.
I was straddling Otto in his back seat as he desperately tried to find the zipper for my banana costume. (Spoiler alert: No zipper. You literally had to peel that thing off me.)
“Why’d you have to wear this thing?” Otto mumbled, his lips vibrating against mine.
“Because I like it. It’s very a-­peeling on me.”
My pun went over his head. “No, it’s not. It’s really baggy.”
I flattened my palms over both sides of my head as if to cover its ears. “Shh, you’re going to hurt its feelings.”
He just stared at me. “Whose feelings?”
I theatrically looked up and sighed. My sense of humor was wasted on him.
“Never mind.” I pulled myself into the passenger’s seat, readjusting my bold outfit. “Let’s head out.”
Keith’s house was located right in the center of the Palisades suburban paradise, where the homes were more like modern villas than standard two-­stories. Keith had it all. Backyard basketball court. Ocean view. A pool. The dream.
We found liquor and mixers in the kitchen, and I made myself a drink before I went looking for my best friends. I found them dancing in the living room with some tipsy classmates. Tahlia was dressed as Winifred Sanderson, her orange hijab wrapped in a braided knot. And Marlowe, who’s unapologetically loud and trans, had acquired sunglasses identical to Lady Gaga circa 2008.
I joined them, warm and silly from the liquor, shamelessly incorporating bits of flossing and dabbing into my dance moves. Ironically, obviously.
Otto watched me from the kitchen with Duncan Rowe and Thomas Randkin, two of his football buddies. I didn’t exactly love Otto’s friends. All they talked about was televised sports and overpriced sneakers. Also? They thought making fun of people was a personality trait.
Duncan was dressed as Batman. His arm was wrapped around his longtime girlfriend—­and my ex–­best friend—­Lenora Kahue, who made the perfect Moana. Part of me wished I could compliment her choice of costume, but I knew she would only slight me. We caught eyes for a second before she flicked her gaze away, scoffing. I swallowed. It hurt more than I thought it would.
Still. I wasn’t going to let Lenora ruin my night.
“Otto, c’mon!” I called, fully tipsy now. I rubbed my hands up and down my banana bod in a movement that would make grandmothers everywhere clutch their pearls.
From across the room, Faith Tobinson snorted. She was dressed as an angel (for the third year in a row) along with my former friend Katie Delcavo, who went to Jesus camp with Faith the summer of eighth grade and then ditched me to be part of Faith’s Lord-­loving friend group.
Perhaps I wasn’t the greatest influence.
Duncan and Thomas laughed, but Lenora pretended not to notice. I didn’t care. I was having a good time. Marlowe encouraged me, twirling her blond hair as she shimmied her hips. 
All of a sudden, Otto’s hand was at my elbow, pulling me outside.
I did not enjoy being led around like some kind of leashed Pomeranian. I tugged out of his grip once we’d crossed into the backyard.
“What’s your problem?” I asked, annoyed.
“Can’t you just act normal?” he muttered.
I blinked at him. That’s when I understood. In front of his football buddies, Otto was embarrassed by me.
How had I not noticed it before? It wasn’t just this scenario. It was when I talked too animatedly about product design, my dream major. Or when I laughed too loudly at someone’s jokes. Or when I called his friends out for saying something sexist. When I got passionate, I got loud. Otto suppressed that. Rejected it.
My personality wasn’t for everyone, sure, but I knew your person was supposed to love the things that made you,you.
Otto and I had been together for a few weeks, but I realized we wouldn’t last much longer. We didn’t click.
“I can’t do this anymore.”
He snort-­laughed, his upper lip doing that weird curl thing. It used to be charming to me. Now it wasn’t. Otto told me to be normal when I was doing the most normal, cliché thing I could think of: participating in underage drinking and dancing at a high school party.
To him, I was doing it all wrong.
“You’re serious?” he finally said when my expression didn’t change.
“I’m sorry, Ottoman.” I tried to soften the blow by using the nickname I gave him, but I quickly realized that wasn’t the move. “I don’t think we’re meshing together in the ways we should be meshing.”
“Brynn, c’mon,” he pleaded. “We’ve been drinking. We can talk about this tomorrow.”
But I knew in my gut I’d feel the same way when I woke up. This wasn’t fun anymore, and I wasn’t going to be with someone who dimmed my light. “It won’t change how I feel now, though.”
He let out a hiss of air. “You know, people warned me this would happen. That you’re so fucking fickle in relationships.” He downed the rest of his beer. “Guess they were right.”
I felt my eyebrows shoot to my hairline. I mean, sure. It’s not exactly false information, but spewing it in such a vitriolic way to get a rise out of me was plain shitty.
“I’m letting that comment slide because you’re clearly upset, but I’m not going to stand here and apologize for knowing what’s best for me. You’re not it.” He opened his mouth, but I was already taking off. “Don’t follow me.”
I rejoined Marlowe and Tahlia where I’d left them in the living room. I tried to shake off his words, but it wasn’t as if I was immune to hurt. I wasn’t a soulless person. Every side of a breakup sucks.
We didn’t stay much longer after that. Mostly because I was sobering up and didn’t feel like dancing with Otto lurking around. It killed the vibe.
I’d woken up a little sad but not regretful. It was the right decision.
I down the rest of my Cocoa Pellets and rinse the bowl in the sink. As I’m...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: Viking Books for Young Readers
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2024
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 0593528301
• ISBN 13: 9780593528303
• Einband: Gebundene Ausgabe
• Anzahl der Seiten: 368
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: Nicht verfügbar
• Verantwortliche Person: gpsr@libri.de; gpsr@libri.de; ; Friedensallee 273; Hamburg; 22763; Deutschland