Guyaholic by Carolyn Mackler (English) Paperback Book

Description: Guyaholic by Carolyn Mackler Fresh from "Vegan Virgin Valentine," V Valentine is back and on a solo cross-country road trip to Texas. With her trademark blend of humor and compassion, Mackler takes readers on an unforgettable ride of missed exits, misadventures, and epiphanies. FORMAT Paperback LANGUAGE English CONDITION Brand New Publisher Description "Macklers unsentimental feel for how kids think and talk, and how they go about entering the grown-up world, makes Vs journey engrossing." — The New York Times Books ReviewEver since Vs mom dumped her with her grandparents, shes bounced from guy to guy. That is, until a fateful hockey puck lands her in the lap of Sam Almond, who is different from the start. But V makes an irreversible mistake at her graduation party and risks losing Sam forever, spurring her on a crosscountry road trip to visit her mom in hopes of putting two thousand miles between herself, Sam, and the wreckage of that night. With humor and compassion, Carolyn Mackler takes readers on an unforgettable ride of missed exits, misadventures, and the kind of epiphanies that come only when youre on a route youve never taken before. Author Biography Carolyn Mackler is the author of the award-winning teen novels "The Earth, My Butt and Other Big Round Things" (a Michael L. Printz Honor Book), "Vegan Virgin Valentine", "Love and Other Four-Letter Words", and "Guyaholic". She lives in New York City with her husband and young son. Review It all started with the puck.In March of my senior year, I went to a Brockport High School hockey game. Im not a big sports fan, but Id been hooking up with Amos Harrington since the past weekend and he played center and kept sayingI should come cheer on the team.I also went to the game because I didnt have work or rehearsal that afternoon. And my grandparents annoying friends were visiting for the weekend, so I was steering clear of the house as much as possible. But most of all, Amos was my only current prospect. And more than anything, I hated being without a prospect.Amos and I had fooled around three times in the past week. Once at a party, once at his house, and once in the auditorium after school. Id never had a guy last longer than two weeks, and most of them didnt make it beyond a night. So with Amoss expiration date rapidly approaching, I needed to milk this for all it was worth or get out and scout new prospects.I got to the rink late because my grandparents friends cornered me in the kitchen. I had my headphones on, so I was hoping theyd get the hint. But Chuck hugged me, and Gwen, whose eyebrows were plucked into a permanent state of shock, gestured at my jeans and sleeveless red top and said, "Youre leaving the house in that?"I considered pretending I couldnt hear her, but my grandparents were hovering nearby, so I switched off my music. "Its not that cold out," I said. "Anyway, Ill be indoors the whole time.""Wont you be at the ice rink?" my grandpa asked. "V, you just got over a sore throat, and you really should—""Fine," I said, gritting my teeth. "Ill take a sweater."By the time I arrived at the game, the bleachers were jammed. I stood at the top, scanning the stands. Finally, I recognized some kids from Chicago, the play in which Id just been cast as a lead. They weresitting down in the front row. I stripped off my sweater, stuffed it in my bag, and squeezed through the crowd until I reached Chastity and TrinityMorgenstern. They were identical twins and the biggest party girls Id ever met, which was ironic given their names and those delicate crosses around their necks. The only way I could tell them apart was that Chastitys necklace was silver and Trinitys was gold. Also, at parties Chastity tended to make out in public places while Trinity consumed massive amounts of alcohol and then conked out for the remainder of the night."Hey, V!" Trinity said. "I love your shirt.""Whered you get those boobs?" Chastity asked."Victorias Secret," I said. "My latest addiction.""Among others," Trinity said, laughing."Youre one to talk," I murmured.As Chastity cracked up, I scanned the ice for Amos or, more notably, his butt. But before I compose a novel about the hotness of Amoss hindquarters, I have to interject a quick word about my boobs. Im the first to admit that Im not endowed in the mammary department and had recently begun siphoning my Pizza Hut paychecks into expensivepadded bras. But guys love cleavage and, well, I love guys.The hockey game charged forward. I was partially chatting with the twins, partially watching Amos, and mostly exchanging glances with a guy tomy left and a few rows up. As I was maneuvering down the bleachers, I saw him check me out. He was wearing a canary-yellow jacket with a ski-lift tag hanging off the zipper. He had a coating of stubble and he looked older, like he went to the college.I shook out my hair and looked back at Ski Lift Boy. He was saying something to his buddy, and then he glanced at me with that lusty look that guys save for video games, red meat, and cute girls.Im not saying Im this gorgeous prom queen, but my skin is clear and my nose is okay and my honey-colored hair is long and everyone tells me Ihave a good body, though it doesnt help that Im taller than most human beings, at least the ones in high school. I think the biggest thing going for me, though, is that if theres an attractive guy in my radius, I canwork it hard and generally get him interested.Ski Lift Boy raised his eyebrows as if to say, Do I know you? I smiled back, already envisioning how we could meet near the concession stand and exchange numbers and Id go to his dorm tonight andhed have a single room so we could—"WATCH OUT!"I whipped my head around in time to see the hockey puck hurtling toward me, but not in time enough to dodge it.I heard the impact as it splintered my forehead. I felt intense pain. I sat still for a second, totally stunned, before wilting backward.Someone shrieked, "Oh my god! Shes been hit!"Someone else screamed, "Call 911!"Someone else shouted, "Does anyone get cellphone reception in here?"My head landed in a lap. My eyes were closed, and there was blood leaking onto my hair. And the pain. Oh my god. The pain.The person with the lap pressed a sweatshirt against my forehead."Im sure it looks worse than it is," he said.I wondered how bad it looked."Is she dead?" I heard someone ask."The ambulance is here!" someone else announced."Should they bring in the stretcher, or can she walk out?"I recognized the voice. It was that genius whod just wondered whether I was dead."Real genius," the guy with the lap muttered.If I werent dealing with a major head injury, I would have cracked up. But its hard to laugh when youre drenched with blood and possibly dead.The guy with the lap kept pressing the sweatshirt to my head.I remember smelling basil and garlic.I remember thinking it smelled good.**********GUYAHOLIC by Carolyn Mackler. Copyright (c) 2007 by Carolyn Mackler. Published by Candlewick Press, Inc., Cambridge, MA. Review Quote It all started with the puck. In March of my senior year, I went to a Brockport High School hockey game. Im not a big sports fan, but Id been hooking up with Amos Harrington since the past weekend and he played center and kept saying I should come cheer on the team. I also went to the game because I didnt have work or rehearsal that afternoon. And my grandparents annoying friends were visiting for the weekend, so I was steering clear of the house as much as possible. But most of all, Amos was my only current prospect. And more than anything, I hated being without a prospect. Amos and I had fooled around three times in the past week. Once at a party, once at his house, and once in the auditorium after school. Id never had a guy last longer than two weeks, and most of them didnt make it beyond a night. So with Amoss expiration date rapidly approaching, I needed to milk this for all it was worth or get out and scout new prospects. I got to the rink late because my grandparents friends cornered me in the kitchen. I had my headphones on, so I was hoping theyd get the hint. But Chuck hugged me, and Gwen, whose eyebrows were plucked into a permanent state of shock, gestured at my jeans and sleeveless red top and said, "Youre leaving the house in that?" I considered pretending I couldnt hear her, but my grandparents were hovering nearby, so I switched off my music. "Its not that cold out," I said. "Anyway, Ill be indoors the whole time." "Wont you be at the ice rink?" my grandpa asked. "V, you just got over a sore throat, and you really should-" "Fine," I said, gritting my teeth. "Ill take a sweater." By the time I arrived at the game, the bleachers were jammed. I stood at the top, scanning the stands. Finally, I recognized some kids from Chicago, the play in which Id just been cast as a lead. They were sitting down in the front row. I stripped off my sweater, stuffed it in my bag, and squeezed through the crowd until I reached Chastity and Trinity Morgenstern. They were identical twins and the biggest party girls Id ever met, which was ironic given their names and those delicate crosses around their necks. The only way I could tell them apart was that Chastitys necklace was silver and Trinitys was gold. Also, at parties Chastity tended to make out in public places while Trinity consumed massive amounts of alcohol and then conked out for the remainder of the night. "Hey, V!" Trinity said. "I love your shirt." "Whered you get those boobs?" Chastity asked. "Victorias Secret," I said. "My latest addiction." "Among others," Trinity said, laughing. "Youre one to talk," I murmured. As Chastity cracked up, I scanned the ice for Amos or, more notably, his butt. But before I compose a novel about the hotness of Amoss hindquarters, I have to interject a quick word about my boobs. Im the first to admit that Im not endowed in the mammary department and had recently begun siphoning my Pizza Hut paychecks into expensive padded bras. But guys love cleavage and, well, I love guys. The hockey game charged forward. I was partially chatting with the twins, partially watching Amos, and mostly exchanging glances with a guy to my left and a few rows up. As I was maneuvering down the bleachers, I saw him check me out. He was wearing a canary-yellow jacket with a ski-lift tag hanging off the zipper. He had a coating of stubble and he looked older, like he went to the college. I shook out my hair and looked back at Ski Lift Boy. He was saying something to his buddy, and then he glanced at me with that lusty look that guys save for video games, red meat, and cute girls. Im not saying Im this gorgeous prom queen, but my skin is clear and my nose is okay and my honey-colored hair is long and everyone tells me I have a good body, though it doesnt help that Im taller than most human beings, at least the ones in high school. I think the biggest thing going for me, though, is that if theres an attractive guy in my radius, I can work it hard and generally get him interested. Ski Lift Boy raised his eyebrows as if to say, Do I know you? I smiled back, already envisioning how we could meet near the concession stand and exchange numbers and Id go to his dorm tonight and hed have a single room so we could- "WATCH OUT!" I whipped my head around in time to see the hockey puck hurtling toward me, but not in time enough to dodge it. I heard the impact as it splintered my forehead. I felt intense pain. I sat still for a second, totally stunned, before wilting backward. Someone shrieked, "Oh my god! Shes been hit!" Someone else screamed, "Call 911!" Someone else shouted, "Does anyone get cellphone reception in here?" My head landed in a lap. My eyes were closed, and there was blood leaking onto my hair. And the pain. Oh my god. The pain. The person with the lap pressed a sweatshirt against my forehead. "Im sure it looks worse than it is," he said. I wondered how bad it looked. "Is she dead?" I heard someone ask. "The ambulance is here!" someone else announced. "Should they bring in the stretcher, or can she walk out?" I recognized the voice. It was that genius whod just wondered whether I was dead. "Real genius," the guy with the lap muttered. If I werent dealing with a major head injury, I would have cracked up. But its hard to laugh when youre drenched with blood and possibly dead. The guy with the lap kept pressing the sweatshirt to my head. I remember smelling basil and garlic. I remember thinking it smelled good. ********** GUYAHOLIC by Carolyn Mackler. Copyright (c) 2007 by Carolyn Mackler. Published by Candlewick Press, Inc., Cambridge, MA. Excerpt from Book It all started with the puck. In March of my senior year, I went to a Brockport High School hockey game. Im not a big sports fan, but Id been hooking up with Amos Harrington since the past weekend and he played center and kept saying I should come cheer on the team. I also went to the game because I didnt have work or rehearsal that afternoon. And my grandparents annoying friends were visiting for the weekend, so I was steering clear of the house as much as possible. But most of all, Amos was my only current prospect. And more than anything, I hated being without a prospect. Amos and I had fooled around three times in the past week. Once at a party, once at his house, and once in the auditorium after school. Id never had a guy last longer than two weeks, and most of them didnt make it beyond a night. So with Amoss expiration date rapidly approaching, I needed to milk this for all it was worth or get out and scout new prospects. I got to the rink late because my grandparents friends cornered me in the kitchen. I had my headphones on, so I was hoping theyd get the hint. But Chuck hugged me, and Gwen, whose eyebrows were plucked into a permanent state of shock, gestured at my jeans and sleeveless red top and said, "Youre leaving the house in that?" I considered pretending I couldnt hear her, but my grandparents were hovering nearby, so I switched off my music. "Its not that cold out," I said. "Anyway, Ill be indoors the whole time." "Wont you be at the ice rink?" my grandpa asked. "V, you just got over a sore throat, and you really should--" "Fine," I said, gritting my teeth. "Ill take a sweater." By the time I arrived at the game, the bleachers were jammed. I stood at the top, scanning the stands. Finally, I recognized some kids from Chicago, the play in which Id just been cast as a lead. They were sitting down in the front row. I stripped off my sweater, stuffed it in my bag, and squeezed through the crowd until I reached Chastity and Trinity Morgenstern. They were identical twins and the biggest party girls Id ever met, which was ironic given their names and those delicate crosses around their necks. The only way I could tell them apart was that Chastitys necklace was silver and Trinitys was gold. Also, at parties Chastity tended to make out in public places while Trinity consumed massive amounts of alcohol and then conked out for the remainder of the night. "Hey, V!" Trinity said. "I love your shirt." "Whered you get those boobs?" Chastity asked. "Victorias Secret," I said. "My latest addiction." "Among others," Trinity said, laughing. "Youre one to talk," I murmured. As Chastity cracked up, I scanned the ice for Amos or, more notably, his butt. But before I compose a novel about the hotness of Amoss hindquarters, I have to interject a quick word about my boobs. Im the first to admit that Im not endowed in the mammary department and had recently begun siphoning my Pizza Hut paychecks into expensive padded bras. But guys love cleavage and, well, I love guys. The hockey game charged forward. I was partially chatting with the twins, partially watching Amos, and mostly exchanging glances with a guy to my left and a few rows up. As I was maneuvering down the bleachers, I saw him check me out. He was wearing a canary-yellow jacket with a ski-lift tag hanging off the zipper. He had a coating of stubble and he looked older, like he went to the college. I shook out my hair and looked back at Ski Lift Boy. He was saying something to his buddy, and then he glanced at me with that lusty look that guys save for video games, red meat, and cute girls. Im not saying Im this gorgeous prom queen, but my skin is clear and my nose is okay and my honey-colored hair is long and everyone tells me I have a good body, though it doesnt help that Im taller than most human beings, at least the ones in high school. I think the biggest thing going for me, though, is that if theres an attractive guy in my radius, I can work it hard and generally get him interested. Ski Lift Boy raised his eyebrows as if to say, Do I know you? I smiled back, already envisioning how we could meet near the concession stand and exchange numbers and Id go to his dorm tonight and hed have a single room so we could-- "WATCH OUT!" I whipped my head around in time to see the hockey puck hurtling toward me, but not in time enough to dodge it. I heard the impact as it splintered my forehead. I felt intense pain. I sat still for a second, totally stunned, before wilting backward. Someone shrieked, "Oh my god! Shes been hit!" Someone else screamed, "Call 911!" Someone else shouted, "Does anyone get cellphone reception in here?" My head landed in a lap. My eyes were closed, and there was blood leaking onto my hair. And the pain. Oh my god. The pain. The person with the lap pressed a sweatshirt against my forehead. "Im sure it looks worse than it is," he said. I wondered how bad it looked. "Is she dead?" I heard someone ask. "The ambulance is here!" someone else announced. "Should they bring in the stretcher, or can she walk out?" I recognized the voice. It was that genius whod just wondered whether I was dead. "Real genius," the guy with the lap muttered. If I werent dealing with a major head injury, I would have cracked up. But its hard to laugh when youre drenched with blood and possibly dead. The guy with the lap kept pressing the sweatshirt to my head. I remember smelling basil and garlic. I remember thinking it smelled good. ********** GUYAHOLIC by Carolyn Mackler. Copyright (c) 2007 by Carolyn Mackler. Published by Candlewick Press, Inc., Cambridge, MA. Details ISBN0763628018 Author Carolyn Mackler Short Title GUYAHOLIC Language English ISBN-10 0763628018 ISBN-13 9780763628017 Media Book Format Paperback DEWEY FIC Year 2009 Residence New York City, NY, US Country of Publication United States AU Release Date 2009-04-28 NZ Release Date 2009-04-28 US Release Date 2009-04-28 UK Release Date 2009-04-28 Imprint Candlewick Press,U.S. Place of Publication Massachusetts Illustrations 1-COLOR Pages 192 Audience Age 14 Publisher Candlewick Press,U.S. Publication Date 2009-04-28 Audience Teenage / Young adult We've got this At The Nile, if you're looking for it, we've got it. With fast shipping, low prices, friendly service and well over a million items - you're bound to find what you want, at a price you'll love! TheNile_Item_ID:137958264;

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