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405 pages, Hardcover
First published March 4, 2014
He’s dangerous, I reminded myself. And this is not the experience you left home for. You should run away.Let's get one thing straight, the Dangerous title, as far as I'm concerned, refers to a motherfucking romance. Not the ludicrous plot itself.
I didn’t move.
That night I thought more about Luther than astronaut boot camp.Astronaut boot camp is Maisie's dream. And how easily she forgets about it when she notices the buffalicious Luther.
“A homeschooled, black-eyed Latina.” He whistled. “You are turning into a very ripe fruit for the plucking.”They meet, they canoodle. They fall deeper and deeper for one another. They recite poetry at one another (and we're barely 10% into the book). Maisie tosses rationality out the window.
[My father told me that teenagers are] not biologically capable of being fully rational. I swore right then that I’d be a smart, cautious teenager.Wilder shows his true colors when the brilliant Maisie and her team wins a prestigious spot to visit an Off-Earth Asteroid. Apparently, he only likes her when she's dumber than he is.
Now those underdeveloped parts of my brain were perking up and looking around.
“We’re both going.” Wilder’s words were as heavy as bricks.The space walk didn't turn out the way they had planned. The team discovers that there have been alien contact with Earth, and they have left behind some articles---tokens. So let's get one thing straight. The team is in danger. There are aliens. And Maisie doesn't really fucking care because she is too distressed over Wilder's lack of interest in her.
“I know it, but I can’t get myself to believe it!”
“But...” He didn’t look at me. “I wasn’t expecting this.”
Wilder’s eyes seemed darker, his whole mood blacker. His gaze slid off me as if I were too lowly to contemplate, and he got up and walked away.
I wasn’t experiencing any inclination to start taking over the world in advance of an alien army. The only change I felt, beyond the headache, was an increased awareness, I guess, of Wilder.The team is in danger, the alien technology have invaded their bodies. They need to hone their skills. Maisie needs to find Wilder and tell her how much she loves him.
The need to find him became an ache. Maybe if I got there first. Maybe if I found him before the others were near, he might look at me the way he used to—Maisie's friends, family is in danger. Maisie longs for Wilder.
His presence was like coming into an air-conditioned house on a sweltering day. His pull eclipsed worry for my parents, for Mi-sun and Jacques, for anything.Wilder may be a liar, a murderer. It doesn't fucking matter. Maisie still feels drawn to him.
I was going to see Wilder for the first time since I’d heard that he killed [her].It's a motherfucking romance.
But he was still Wilder.
“Who is this trog?” Luther asked.Spare me. Skip this book.
I stood up fast, moving away from Wilder, and blushed as if I’d been doing something bad. Luther was standing on the sidewalk, his arms folded.
“This is Jonathan Wilder, a...friend I met at astronaut boot camp. Wilder, this is my best friend Luther.”
The boys looked at each other. The mood was Arctic Circle.
There were times when I thought I loved him. But I see now that I didn't really. Attraction, infatuation, and consternation do not love make. I don't know if I love him now, but I like him so much the joy is exquisitely painful. And this, too, is new.Overall, I thought this was a decent read of the "superteens save the world" variety, if you like that kind of book. I'm not going to put it on any of my favorites lists like I do with The Goose Girl but it was reasonably enjoyable in its own way.["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>
"A home-schooled, black-eyed Latina." He whistled. "You are turning into a very ripe fruit for the plucking."
We were quiet, two tiny specks glued down by gravity, peering at a universe that didn't notice us back. The quiet and dark made me feel mysterious and stilled, a thing that glints in the dark, an object that can only be understood by careful study. Something like a poem.
Had he noticed that I watched him in the cafeteria? Had he guessed that I reread his file? That some nights when I closed my eyes, I saw his?
"You be Europa, and I'll be your Jupiter."
"Marketing surveys are always digging for something, and I bleepity-bleep gave it to them."
If you can't tell, I changed some of his words. [..] I was a bit sheltered from R-rated languge, and Jacques unnerved me.
"I'm going to bleep this bleeping diaper."