Punk 57 by Penelope Douglas
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
Loved it! I had been putting this one off for some reason, but I’m glad I finally dove in! The setup for the secrets and backgrounds was done so very well. The author also really captured the angst and misery of being/feeling like an outcast. That was my experience for many of my school years, and man- she really nailed it. I am thankful on a pretty regular basis that I got through school before social media was a thing. I don’t know that I would have made it without begging to transfer. And the author’s statement at the end about it getting better? Thankfully, it does. There is life after high school. And for most people, it is SO much better. It probably won’t be better for Trey, but I digress.
I loved the letters, and the sharing of lyrics. I loved that they could be more honest with one another in those letters than they could be in their real lives. I even loved that Ryen used those letters and that friendship to be the better person that she wished she actually was in real life. Sigh. So much self-awareness for a high school kid.
There some reveals toward the end that I did not see coming, so that was exciting. I was also super excited about the final graffiti.
All in all, a solid standalone read from Penelope Douglas. I should have picked it up earlier.
Recommended!
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Misha
I can’t help but smile at the words in her letter. She misses me.
In fifth grade, my teacher set us up with pen pals from a different school. Thinking I was a girl, with a name like Misha, the other teacher paired me up with her student, Ryen. My teacher, believing Ryen was a boy like me, agreed.
It didn’t take long for us to figure out the mistake. And in no time at all, we were arguing about everything. The best take-out pizza. Android vs. iPhone. Whether or not Eminem is the greatest rapper ever…
And that was the start. For the next seven years, it was us.
Her letters are always on black paper with silver writing. Sometimes there’s one a week or three in a day, but I need them. She’s the only one who keeps me on track, talks me down, and accepts everything I am.
We only had three rules. No social media, no phone numbers, no pictures. We had a good thing going. Why ruin it?
Until I run across a photo of a girl online. Name’s Ryen, loves Gallo’s pizza, and worships her iPhone. What are the chances?
F*ck it. I need to meet her.
I just don’t expect to hate what I find.
Ryen
He hasn’t written in three months. Something’s wrong. Did he die? Get arrested? Knowing Misha, neither would be a stretch.
Without him around, I’m going crazy. I need to know someone is listening. It’s my own fault. I should’ve gotten his number or picture or something.
He could be gone forever.
Or right under my nose, and I wouldn’t even know it.
