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384 pages, Hardcover
First published March 11, 2013
Get a grip, Jenna, I tell myself furiously. People’s lives depend on you tomorrow, and all you can think about is snogging Max.As a child, I read almost the entire Baby Sitter's Club books. Almost 20 years later, I am rather bemused and amused to realize that I've essentially just read another story about babysitting. Sure, the premise is different, there's a dystopian future (and by dystopian, I mean the let's-throw-random-dystopian-element-crap-at-a-wall-and-see-what-sticks), but really, this is a story about a "tough" teenage girl who acts, more or less, as a babysitter to a delicate, fainting, stammering, blushing little boy.
‘Shut up,’ he says. ‘I hate you. I HATE YOU!’Who throws one hell of a tantrum.
‘What’re you in here for, anyway?’ he mumbles thickly.And she never shows a single moment of remorse.
‘I killed my parents.’
My head lolls to the side and darkness rolls over my vision like a wave.Part II: Mia Richardson:
The face that stares back at me has brown eyes instead of grey. The nose is smaller, the chin rounder. The cheekbones are more pronounced. And all my scars are gone.Well, isn't that just lovely? Jenna is now rescued from prison, AND given an insta-makeover courtesy of plastic surgery within ONE day. She's even got her gorgeous hair back! In ONE day. Only now Jenna isn't Jenna anymore. She's involved in some kind of Super Secret Plan by the people who rescued her, and they won't tell her what.
I’m almost pretty, for God’s sake.
He’s not handsome, exactly, but he looks friendly and normal and nice; the sort of guy, if you were lucky enough to get Partnered to him, you could imagine curling up with and talking to until the small hours of the morning, and not even noticing what time it was.D'aww, isn't that just fucking cute. Until ever-so-conveniently, Max runs into her, tries to rob her in the world's most pitiful robbery attempt.
‘I – just – needed – some – stuff,’ he chokes.And promptly faints.
As he lurches towards me his eyes roll back in his head and his legs fold underneath him like a puppet that has just had its strings cut.Apparently, Max is an accidental drug addict. He didn't MEAN to become an addict, he was forced to be one (long story). And now "Mia" is his babysitter. Max is useless, because he's a recovering drug addict.
He’s fever-hot. Crap. Maybe he hasn’t just got a cold.Only to have him turn completely against her when he discovers her true identity.
‘I’m sorry,’ he croaks.
‘Don’t worry about it. You can’t help being ill,’ I say.
‘You lying, murdering bitch.’ His eyes are shining with fury and hate. ‘All this time, I thought you were helping me. I thought you cared. And it was all lies.’So much for being grateful. And when ACID agents catch up to them, it's "Mia's" ass that Max hands them on a platter.
‘You don’t want me!’ he yells. ‘You want her! She’s a murderer!’Ah, young love! Such loyalty!
He’ll never know, now, how much I care about him. I want that moment back where he tried to kiss me. And this time, I want to let him, and I want to kiss him back.Also known as: priorities, Y DO U NOT HAZ THEM?!
And knowing I’ll never have that again makes me want to curl into a ball and howl.
‘So why can’t they rescue Max, then?’
‘It’s too risky. If any of the FREE operatives there were to even try to make contact with Max, our cover could be blown.’
‘That’s so wrong!’ I cry.

‘Because we deserve it,’ Dad told me.Oh. Makes perfect fucking sense -_-


I bring my arm up and pivot sideways so that,as Creep tries to grab me,he's thrown off balance and staggers against the worktop.Before he can recover I spin and kick out,planting my left foot squarely in his stomach.He doubles over with a strangled-sounding Oof. Then,as he tries to straighten up and get hold of the edge of the worktop, I lace my hands together and bring them down hard on the back of his neck.As he cracks his chin on the tiles at my feet,he gives a yelp of pain that rails off into a whimper.
'I tried to warn you,' I say, my throbbing skin and thumping head momentarily forgotten. 'Maybe you'll listen to me next time,huh?'
I push my foot into his neck to emphasize my point.Coughing,he rolls onto his back,trying to twist away from me.Blood - his own - is streaming down from his mouth; he must have bitten his tongue when he smashed his chin against the floor.
'What're you in here for, anyway?' He mumbles thickly, spitting red froth.
'You really wanna know?' I say.
He nods.
I lean down until our faces are so close we could kiss.
'I killed my parents,' I murmur, and watch his eyes go wide.