Hot Dog Girl - Softcover

Dugan, Jennifer

Softcover

ISBN 10: 0593857062 ISBN 13: 9780593857069

Verlag: G.P. Putnam's Sons Books for Young Readers, 2024

Inhaltsangabe

A fresh and funny contemporary YA rom-com about teens working as costumed characters in a local amusement park.

Elouise (Lou) Parker is determined to have the absolute best, most impossibly epic summer of her life. There are just a few things standing in her way:

She's landed a job at Magic Castle Playland . . . as a giant dancing hot dog.

Her crush, the dreamy diving pirate Nick, already has a girlfriend, who is literally the princess of the park. But Lou's never liked anyone, guy or otherwise, this much before, and now she wants a chance at her own happily ever after.

Her best friend, Seeley, the carousel operator, has always been up for anything, but she's decidedly not on board when it comes to Lou's quest to set her up with the perfect girl or Lou's scheme to get close to Nick.

And it turns out that this will be their last summer at Magic Castle Playland—ever—unless she can find a way to stop it from closing.

Jennifer Dugan's sparkling debut coming-of-age queer romance stars a princess, a pirate, a hot dog, and a carousel operator who find love—and themselves—in unexpected people and unforgettable places.

Über diesen Titel

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Jennifer Dugan is a writer, a geek, and a romantic who writes the kinds of stories she wishes she’d had growing up. She’s the author of the graphic novel Coven, as well as the young adult novels Playing For Keeps, The Last Girls Standing, Melt With You, Some Girls Do, Verona Comics, and Hot Dog Girl, which was called “a great, fizzy rom-com” by Entertainment Weekly and “one of the best reads of the year, hands down” by Paste magazine. She lives in upstate New York with her family, their dog, a strange kitten who enjoys wearing sweaters, and an evil cat who is no doubt planning to take over the world. You can visit Jennifer at JLDugan.com or follow her on Twitter and Instagram @JL_Dugan.

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Chapter One

Everybody seems to think the summer after your senior year is the stuff of legends. That it’s two months of pure teenage bliss or something. It’s almost as if there’s this big conspiracy surrounding it, like, sure, kid, throw your cap in the air, cue up that hit pop song you will definitely hate by fall, and then you, too, will be guaranteed the most epic summer of your life. I mean, we all know that’s not how it actually goes down, right?

Even though I won’t kick off my own senior year for another couple of months, I’ve already witnessed way more than my fair share of post-senior summers. It’s a hazard of attending a tiny school—you can’t really be picky about how old your friends are. But yeah, I think I can conclusively say that frantically searching Target for extra-long twin bedsheets while freaking out about what to major in does not an epic summer make.

So no, I don’t buy into that whole post-senior-year magic thing. I think pre-senior year is where it’s at, and for me, that starts right here in this tiny breakroom—with a stomach full of butterflies and a brain full of fireworks.

This is going to be my summer, no doubt about it.

I take a deep breath and slide my finger down the crisp page in front of me, searching for my name on the corkboard of destiny. Seriously. That’s what we call stuff like this at Magic Castle Playland. It’s not a bulletin board; it’s a “corkboard of destiny.” It’s not a list of job assignments; it’s a “character reveal chart.” I swear to god everything here is about as whimsical as it is rusty.

I look lower, past the names of the ride operators and the food service people, over housekeeping and maintenance, until I get to the costume crew. I pause at the listing for princess. It’s not my name. Okay, that’s fine, disappointing but fine. I knew it was a long shot when I put in for it. My finger dips even lower, gliding past the prince, and the pirates, and all the furry park mascots, until it hits my name: Elouise May Parker. I drop my head against the board. No, no, no. Not again. I can’t. This has to be a mistake.

My best friend, Seeley, nudges me out of the way. “What’s it say?”

“I’m the hot dog.”

Pity flashes in her hazel eyes. “It could be worse.”

“Could it, See? Could it really?”

“Yeah! What if they put you in housekeeping and you were stuck in the bathroom by Swashbuckler Bay?” She shudders, cracking herself up.

“It’s not funny.” I pout, but technically, yes, that would be worse. I mean, the bathroom crew finishes every shift smelling like mildew and old diapers, so . . .

Seeley holds up her hands. “Hey, I’m just kidding, but it’s going to be okay, Lou, promise.”

She’s right. I know she is. This is a minor speed bump. I mean, it’s not like anybody died or there’s a giant meteor about to strike Earth or anything. But still, there are so many things I have planned for these last few months before we’re sucked up in the frenzy of senior year, and playing the hot dog isn’t one of them.

I glance back at the list, letting out a little humph, and then look back at Seeley with an exaggerated frown. She bursts out laughing, shaking so hard her teal hair tips right into her sun-kissed face. Seeley’s always got it a different color these days, almost like a mood ring. The happier she is, the brighter her hair gets.

Meanwhile I’m her slightly duller, significantly paler sidekick. My skin doesn’t tan—it just burns—and my hair is this permanent mousy brown color because it doesn’t hold dye. My dad calls it “caramel brown,” which makes me think it’s been way too long since he’s actually seen any caramel.

Seeley grins and shoves her bangs out of her face as we start to walk toward the main stage for orientation. “Seriously, what are the odds that a vegetarian ends up in a hot dog suit two years in a row?”

“Shut up. What did you get?” I almost hope it’s something awful like the Scrambler, where she’s guaranteed to clean up tons of puke on the daily. It’s only fair we both suffer.

“The carousel.” She shrugs, her lips twisting into a smirk.

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t.” She laughs. “Besides, would you honestly rather have Marcus or Brynn in charge of the carousel? They’d have Butters and Racer scratched all to hell from day one.”

“I would kill them.”

Seeley crosses her arms. “Exactly. So really, you should be thanking me for helping you avoid a lengthy prison sentence.”

I snort, running my hand along the rock wall. This is the only time of year I even dare to touch it, the only time when it’s still sort of semi-clean—well, as clean as the filthy old rock wall of a run-down amusement park can be, anyway. But tomorrow the gates will open, and everything will be sticky from the sweat and garbage of our less-than-stellar clientele.

I drop my hand, smiling at the familiar sight of co-workers finding seats and talking excitedly to everybody they haven’t seen since the last time the cold broke in our unforgiving little mountain town. Most of them aren’t townies like me; some of them live in neighboring areas, and some of them—the lifers, as I like to call them—follow the seasons. They spend their summers up here where it’s a little bit cooler, and the winters down south where the weather is mild.

You don’t realize how many people it takes to run an amusement park, even an old midsize one like ours, until you try to cram them all into the seats at Mr. Johnny’s Magic Emporium. Even though our little rust bucket can’t compete with the corporate giants, we have some cool stuff here—a couple roller coasters, some games, enough rides to pass an afternoon, and, of course, our namesake: a tiny pink castle smack-dab in the middle of the park—and it takes tons of people to keep it going each day.

Tons of people who are currently causing a human-shaped traffic jam right ahead of me. I take a sharp right and turn down the lower path to hit up the amphitheater’s side entrance. Seeley follows close behind me, stepping hard on the back of my sneaker, so hard my heel pops out. I glare at her, grabbing onto her arm for support as I fix my shoe.

“Sorry.” Her voice lilts up like this isn’t an offense punishable by death.

“Hey, Seeley,” a boy says, nodding at her as he walks by. It’s Nick, because of course it would be Nick when I’m hunched over looking like I don’t know how to operate a shoe. Seeley lifts her hand to wave and nearly sends me sprawling. Thanks for that, universe.

“Hey, Nick.” I smile, jumping forward as I regain my balance.

“Hey, Elouise.” He nods.

“Elle, Nick, call me Elle.” I grit my teeth.

He clamps his hand on my shoulder, and I praise the gods that I decided to wear a tank top today. “If ‘Elle’ hasn’t stuck by now, it’s never going to. But I applaud your determination.” He squeezes his fingers a little like he’s giving me a massage and oh, okay, no big deal. I’ll just be over here dying because Nick’s skin is touching my skin and that’s—

“Have you guys seen Jessa?” he asks.

Oh, right. Jessa. His super beautiful,...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: G.P. Putnam's Sons Books for Young Readers
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2024
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 0593857062
• ISBN 13: 9780593857069
• Einband: Taschenbuch
• Anzahl der Seiten: 309
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: Nicht verfügbar
• Verantwortliche Person: Nicht verfügbar