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Zusatztext "Emergency Contact is a sharp! funny! and adorable young-adult romance! but it’s also a pretty great story about two people living with differing levels of anxiety...you’ll relate to the characters in this book! and you’ll root for them! too." Informationen zum Autor Mary H.K. Choi is the New York Times bestselling author of Emergency Contact, Permanent Record, and Yolk. She is the host of, Hey, Cool Job!, a podcast about jobs and Hey, Cool Life!, a micro-pod about mental health and creativity. Her writing has been featured in The Atlantic, The New York Times,and GQ. She lives in Brooklyn, New York. Follow her on Twitter @ChoitotheWorld. Klappentext A debut author delivers a compulsively readable novel that shows young love in all its awkward glory--ideal for fans of "Eleanor & Park" and "To All the Boys I've Loved Before." Emergency Contact PENNY. “Tell me something, Penny . . .” Penny knew that whatever Madison Chandler was going to say, she wasn’t going to enjoy it. Madison Chandler leaned in close, mouth smiling, beady eyes narrowed. Penny held her breath. “Why is your mom such a slut?” The taller of the two girls glared pointedly at Penny’s mom, who was chatting with Madison’s father a few feet away. Blood pounded in Penny’s ears. Possible reactions to Madison Chandler calling your mom a slut: 1. Punch her in the face. 2. Punch her disgusto, knuckle-dragging, pervert father in the face. 3. Do nothing. Rage-cry later in the privacy of your bedroom while listening to The Smiths. You are a dignified pacifist. Namaste. 4. Unleash the pyrokinetic abilities bequeathed to you upon birth, scorching the shopping mall with the fire of a trillion suns. Penny scanned her opponent’s green-flecked blue eyes. Why was this happening? And at the Apple Store no less? This was a safe space. A haven. Penny was almost out of this stifling town for good. She was so close. “I asked you a question.” Madison sucked her teeth. She had those clear braces that fooled no one. Punching her would be therapeutic. “Hello? Is anyone in there?” So therapeutic. Christ, who was Penny kidding? It was option three. It was always option three. At this stage of the game there was no need to be a hero. Especially at 5'1", with a “cute” right hook and reaction times that were sluggish at best. Whatever. In four days Penny would be off to college and the opinions of these micro-regionally famous people would no longer matter. Just as Madison drew back, to glare at her from a different, arguably more menacing angle, Penny’s assigned Apple Genius materialized with her brand-new phone. Deus ex-MacStore dude. Penny clutched the smooth box. It gleamed with promise and felt expensively heavy in her hands. She glanced over by the laptops where “Maddy’s Daddy,” as he’d introduced himself (barf), was doing a looming-leering thing at her mom, Celeste. Penny sighed. She’d been campaigning for a new phone since Christmas, and this was not at all going down how she’d planned. Penny had envisioned more fanfare. At least some help picking out a case. “Seriously, what’s with your mom’s geisha whore outfit?” Okay, Madison Chandler may have gotten a Chanel caviar purse at fourteen (it was a hand-me-down) and a Jeep Wrangler at sixteen, but wow, there were sandwiches smarter than this girl. First off, geishas weren’t prostitutes. Common mistake. Typically made by the willfully ignorant and intellectually incurious. Some geishas beguiled their clients with dance and artful conversation like in Memoirs of a Geisha, a novel Penny adored unti...
