I was introduced to author Chris Lynch when I spotted his 2014 book Little Blue Lies on the library shelf. I'm a dork - it was January 2014, and the sticker on the spine said "New - Jan 2014." I turned to the copyright page, and it said "Copyright 2014." So I was like, Cool, it's barely 2014, and this can be my first 2014 book. So there was that, but Little Blue Lies was a paper-thin waste of (mercifully, not very much) time.
Anyway, I was introduced to Lynch's Inexcusable on the back cover of Lynch's Little Blue Lies. All the time I was reading that mediocre-at-best Lynch novel, there were a half-dozen starred reviews and praise blurbs screaming at me about how much better Inexcusable was, and why the hell are you reading the wrong book just because it came out this year? Sometimes those dust-jacket back covers know how to cut right to the heart of me.
A couple months later, I got down with Inexcusable, which is also a paper-thin novel but a much more substantive read. Though I will tell you - hang in there through the first 30 or so pages while you get used to the litany of run-on sentences from your rambling, stream-of-consciousness first-person narrator. Adjusting to the voice of the "protagonist," high-school senior Keir, is like getting used to the unfamiliar regional dialects of Snatch or Lock, Stock - way easier, of course, but similar.
Also, hang in there as the narrator starts laying out what seems to be a very obvious and constant formula of self-justification: I'm a good guy, I do good things. I can't possibly have done this bad thing this girl is accusing me of because I'm not a bad person. I'm a good guy, I do good things. Like how I apologized to this girl after I raped her--wait, no, I didn't rape her, I couldn't have. I'm a good guy, I do good things.
Yup, Inexcusable deals with the "ten foot pole" topic of date rape, acquaintance rape, whatever you wanna call it. And it's entirely from the perspective of Keir, the good guy who does good things, like not rape girls. Author Lynch trades off chapters of present-tense aftermath (Keir reacting to what just happened while the girl is still there with him) and senior-year back story.
There's a tiny bit of suspense during those first few rambling pages of back story, like maybe he didn't do it, but then Keir talks about how, during a junior-year football game, he accidentally crippled this kid from another school by tackling him just like he was supposed to. Just like a good kid who does good things would tackle a kid. And the crippled kid must be okay with everything because he sent Keir a card saying no hard feelings for taking away his below-waist mobility.
The crippling incident, incidentally (ha!), grants Keir access to all the trappings of football team popularity. The footballers in Inexcusable are the spoiled, brutish, oppressive characters of the book, while the soccer team kids are meek, mild and conscientious. Keir straddles the line - he does soccer to stay in shape for football, because he's a good kid, and I guess so he'll have someone to play chess with. The football kids all call him Killer (quickly adjusted to "Killeer," to rhyme with his name), and it's a nickname he eventually slides into.
I like the glimpses into Keir's home life. He has two sisters, both away at college, so senior year his house is a bachelor pad inhabited by him and his voluntarily clueless widower dad. The you-deserve-it attitude of the dad* leads to them binge-drinking together as bonding and to dad hiring an expensive limo driver to chauffeur Keir around town on Graduation Day, aka The Day The Rape(?[!]) Goes Down. Dad, throughout the book, only seems to bat an eye of concern when he finds out about the nickname Killer. He can't be a killer, thinks dad. He's a good boy who does good things. Why would his nickname even suggest otherwise?[!]
This book reads like a flash of lightning, of course, but its pace doesn't feel rushed or barrel you over. The two major back-story set pieces, prom and graduation, feel familiar and nonchalant, but the narrative slowly builds you into a quiet, wincing terror. Getting into Keir's head feels uncomfortable but authentic.
I had a friend for many years who was a pathological liar, just made up the most outlandish shit but would never break character and admit the truth. I'd wonder about the psychology of it, and I think it was similar to Keir in Inexcusable - I'm a good person, I'm telling the truth. If they don't believe me, it's their problem. This book isn't super-insightful, but it's definitely worth reading.
* = This dad character's attitude is in direct contrast to the dad in the very next book I read, A.S. King's Please Ignore Vera Dietz. The Dietz dad, also a voluntarily clueless single-parent divorcee, had a you-don't-deserve-it-because-your-mom-and-I-tried-it-and-fucked-it-all-up attitude.