Paradoxically the first volume in a series called "masks" this idiotic and utterly predictable story is another example of YA at its worst. It's first person so the main character is unnaturally describing herself with ridiculous terms from the off: "I patted the back pocket of my pale denim, skinny jeans." Nobody talks like that. When did your friend last say to you "I thought I'd lost my phone so I patted the back pocket of my pale denim, skinny jeans"? It's idiotic, inauthentic and completely unnatural. It sounds so fake and self-obsessed and snotty, that it's nauseating.
Here's another: "I ran my hands through my long curls" Barf! If the author can't put in better descriptions than this (and forget the tired trope of looking in a mirror) then she needs to find another profession. Maybe a fashion runway commentator? Here's another: "I should have gone back in to find a handbag. Every girl in the world seemed to wear them" Since when do you 'wear' a handbag?
The last straw was this tired bitch-in-heat trope: "I tried not to look, but couldn't help stealing a few furtive glimpses as he got out of his black Jeep shirtless and reached for the surfboard attached to the roll bars. His straight hair was wet, droplets hanging from the long ends before dripping onto his shoulders. I watched one droplet glide over his hard chest and perfect abs and couldn't help scraping my teeth over my bottom lip." Barf.
Because every girl is constantly desperate and needy for a man, and only one kind of man will ever do. Good luck with getting guys to respect girls when female authors are routinely putting this shit out there in a steady regular diet telling guys who can't think for themselves that every young girl desperately wants them, right now, and the most physical way possible. And why is his hair still dripping water? Is the beach next door? Or did it rain on the way home? And what the fuck difference does it make what color his jeep is?
This is one of the worst examples of a generally poorly-written genre, and no. Just no. Warty to the max. These colors are about as tired and faded as you can get.
