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“She was tub-bellied…”
What the actual fuck?

“… Sherrena was the only black person in the room. Almost everyone else was white, with names like Eric, Marc, or Kathy.”

Are you fucking kidding Matthew? Is this a joke?

“Traffic sounded like a thousand mop buckets being tossed out the back door.”

Seriously Matthew?

Pipa is about to be the second white girl to get a Singh boy killed in this town.

Wait. This is PLL.

No way this girl is dead. Only person dead is Sal. She killed him and not only got away with it but also framed him for her fake murder. Diabolical. (If this is NOT what happens in this book I’m calling dibs on writing a book where it does happen.)

No way this girl’s dead

“You’re clever, Geetaben. Like, proper clever.”
“I know.”
“So… not to rush you, but you should get going, na?”
This mishmash of dialects is quite fucking annoying.

“We can get a taxi. Please. Let’s go.’
I would have done it if I could, done it in a heartbeat. I would have done anything else in the world, ripped my own arm off, to stop the tears falling down her face.”

UGHHHG I LIKE THIS BOOK

“He likes Robert so much that he is reluctant to face the obvious difference between them. He wants their sexuality to be an equalizer; he wants to focus on the discrimination they face in common. But Simon can conceal his sexuality. Robert can’t conceal his blackness, and almost everyone in the Castro is white.”
I mean, she’s trying 🤷🏾‍♀️

So there’s a 16-year-old. And a fortune teller said he’s going to die young. And he’s queer. And he’s run away to San Francisco. And it’s the late 70s.
And I doubt this story has the chops to do justice to the AIDS crisis.