I really wanted to like this, and honestly, sometimes I did.
I love how the author talks about reading with such passion. I love that she mentions Tagore and some other great reads. I really love how Indian (but not) Shay is and how pressured Ryan feels; how much he contradicts his own wants for his brother's reputation.
But the stereotypes, my god, they were awful. I mean, sure there's little diversity in this small, white city (I can relate), but is everyone so predictable too?
Lexi has a big butt and is black. I guess that's supposed to be some sort of surprise. Dotty makes the perfect politician parent: absent. And Mike and Drew are those asshole jocks.
Marco is the South American Holden Caulfield, also frustrated by his feelings for some chick he would normally not care for.
By the end I was just so frustrated that no one noticed a dramatic decrease in mall population (THOUSANDS OF PEOPLE)
and that this is actually supposed to be a series. Seriously?
I predict a really botched up operation to save the people in the mall. Lots of people die and it kind of ends up like the FAYZ in Michael Grant's Gone
series. People become rabid, die some more and our favourite main characters survive, link up and end up with each other when they get out.
I will likely not continue with this series. It took me forever just to get through this one. I don't think I could read even more about nothing happening.