My Last Kiss by Bethany Neal
My rating: 2 of 5 stars
Shelves: Fantasy/Pnr/Everything Untoward, Hot like meh
Abandoned at 45%.
The sun shone, having no alternative, on the nothing new.
~Samuel Beckett, Murphy
The book told on, having no alternative, the nothing new. The exceptionally boring nothing new.
My First Kiss has been compared to The Lovely Bones, and I cannot express how ardently I agree with this statement. Both are supremely slow and monotonous, the main character’s voice doing nothing to remedy that, even in their phantom state.
For the first half of the book- the only part I read- Cassidy Haines, recently dead and spectral, tries not to remember all that she’s forgotten about her life as a result of being dead- killed or otherwise. Because lo and behold, it appears she might have been faithful to her not-a-douchebag of a boyfriend.
I do not give turtle’s fossilized crap.
Cassidy is seen by no one, heard by no one except of course the boyfriend she cheated on- not that he knows. And they make out, dance, fight, reveal trivial secrets, and discuss, in passing, her existentialism.
The fish drank all my rat crap shakes.
Cassidy whines. She’s dead so I’ll give her that. But she whines more, and now the whines are subtle, sneaking up on you, like my arch-nemesis, Waspssssss.
Wasps don’t give shits out just like that.
Cassidy’s best friend tries to solve her murder, figure out the identity of the perpetrator, while everyone gathers her death to be a suicide. She barely haunts her best friend.
The official statement is that I’ve run out of fucks. Nothing personal, you know.
Cassidy has no sense of humor, dark or otherwise; no intriguing traits or worries I’d care a fuck about, no sass and nothing. Even her loneliness or dying hopes for the future she’ll never have is non-existent. The mystery doesn’t begin until the latter half apparently, so how on earth am I supposed to stay with her that long?
Occam’s Razor: I don’t. I cannot.
This is the story. This is boring. This is why I don’t care to continue. The rest is dust, except the choice that is yours.
(Actually, I would have loved to finish the story and continue to the end had something interesting- besides her dying- happened earlier. The twists and turns everyone’s talking about make me yearn, as do quotes like this:
It seems everyone I know holds captive some piece of my past. I want them, no matter how much they’ll hurt. They’re mine and I deserve to hold them.
But since nothing did, I’d rather just avert my face so I don’t long too much(I desire closure too much, sometimes).)
Review copy provided by Macmillan Children’s Publishing Group.