Made You Up
4/5
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About this ebook
Reality, it turns out, is often not what you perceive it to be—sometimes, there really is someone out to get you. For fans of Silver Linings Playbook and Liar, this thought-provoking debut tells the story of Alex, a high school senior—and the ultimate unreliable narrator—unable to tell the difference between real life and delusion.
Alex fights a daily battle to figure out what is real and what is not. Armed with a take-no-prisoners attitude, her camera, a Magic 8 Ball, and her only ally (her little sister), Alex wages a war against her schizophrenia, determined to stay sane long enough to get into college. She's pretty optimistic about her chances until she runs into Miles. Didn't she imagine him? Before she knows it, Alex is making friends, going to parties, falling in love, and experiencing all the usual rites of passage for teenagers. But Alex is used to being crazy. She's not prepared for normal. Can she trust herself? Can we trust her?
Francesca Zappia
Francesca Zappia lives in central Indiana. When she is not writing, she’s drawing her characters, reading, or playing video games. She is also the author of Made You Up and Eliza Mirk’s favorite, The Children of Hypnos, a biweekly serial novel posted on Tumblr and Wattpad. She also blogs about writing at francescazappia.com
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Reviews for Made You Up
191 ratings18 reviews
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Previous to this book I had read Zappia’s book “Eliza and Her Monsters” and loved that book. I was excited to read another book by her. This is a very unique and well done book about a teen who suffers from schizophrenia with paranoid delusions. I enjoyed it overall but thought the ending was too vague.Alex is trying to navigate a new school and unravel some mysteries at the new school while not knowing what is real and what is imaginary. Her mom wants to commit her to an asylum but Alex is determined to make it on her own. However, when her secret gets out she finds out who her true friends are.This was a funny, touching and intriguing story. I probably would have given it 5 stars but the ending felt very unfinished to me. I just felt like this book left me with too many questions and not enough answers. Anyone who like closure in their books will be very frustrated with this story.Overall I liked this book and thought it was unique and engaging. I was frustrated with the vague ending though; it basically leaves the reader to decide on their own what really happened to the characters in this story. I would recommend if you are looking for a quirky YA contemporary fiction book with mystery and romance and of course some discussion around mental illness.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5What an amazing debut novel. Made You Up will leave you guessing what's real (or not) until the very end.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5I loved this book, and still love it
I wanted to reread it right after I finished it. I want to become a artist one day and maybe write a few books on the way.
Books bring lots of joy to my life, I love being flung into lots of different situations as the character, and can always picture what’s happening in my head. When I stop reading I fall asleep considering what might happen next.
I was drawn to it by the cover and the main character’s name: Alex, for some reason I just like that name.
It has been on my read list for a couple months but I’m glad I’m reading it now :)
I found it cool that her parents are history lovers and found it very interesting that they mentioned they were married to history and each other
I liked the prospect of not knowing if anything was real or not too.
All the characters were very well made.
Although we didn’t know much about any of them, I also find it funny that most of the other reviews said they didnt know much about Miles, one of Alex’s friends. It’s very true that we didn’t know much about him but we also knew less about her other friends especially Tucker (I thought that was her best friend?... not anymore!) but like I said I still loved the book and, don’t call me creepy but all my top three books the main characters are girls (that’s normal) and they all have some kind of illness...
BUT their all VERY good books
1:this book ;)
2:What I lost
3: That’s NOT what happened
My eyes were practically glued to the page and I only stopped reading when I hit ten battery.
I think that this is the only book I found worth while to review on.
I absolutely loved it and also loved her other book: Welcome To Adamsville
I highly recommend this book to about anyone! - Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5There aren't many teen novels that deal with mental illness in a positive, educational way which makes this book even more important. The book centers around Alex, a high school senior suffering from schizophrenia. Having been kicked out of her last school for defacing the gym she is sent to a new high school and as part of her punishment she has to join an after school athletic club. Alex finds herself making friends but more often than not she's not always sure what is real and what is a figment of her imagination. Are these friendships real or are they fake? Miles, the head of the club soon becomes one of her fixations. Does he really have a German accent? Why do people call him a Nazi? Can she trust him? A hopeful, honest read about mental illness and the power of friendship.
2 people found this helpful
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Alex has paranoid schizophrenia, and as she gets used to life in her new high school, she must constantly question what’s real and what’s not. The plot of her story, especially at the end, felt a little far-fetched, but overall, I really enjoyed the friendships, romance, and bits of normalcy Alex finds.
1 person found this helpful
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5A fine book but painful to read. It makes you wonder why a mental illness carries such a stigma compared to a physical disease like cancer. Even though knowing that I was reading an unreliable narrator I was still fairly shocked to learn that Charlie was a hallucination. Also fairly shocked that her doctors and therapist could let her continue to delude herself for years.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5What an amazing book! Made You Up is well written taking the difficult subject of mental illness and making it accessible to a young audience by weaving it into the life of a high school student trying to find her way in a new school. Alex suffers through the usual angst associated with high school, but wondering all the while how much of her new life is real and how much is imagined. If you read this story, have a few tissues ready because it will grab your emotions and not let go until the very end. The climax was a little hard to follow, not knowing how much was really happening in the story and how much Alex was imagining, but without a doubt, this story is well worth reading.
- Rating: 1 out of 5 stars1/5I didn't realize it was possible to be so inaccurate and still get published. I don't know a lot about psychology but I just finished a semester class that apparently taught me way more than this author bothered to learn. So glad I got this from the library instead of paying for it because that is three hours of my life I'm never going to get back. Seriously, read at your own risk and know that this is not how schizophrenia actually works. If you need a detailed explanation, the review by @Clementine is very thorough and accurate, going through all of the horrible subplots and inconsistencies throughout the book. I can't give this a 0-star but please know that this book deserves nothing more.
1 person found this helpful
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5I'm big into books that deal with mental illnesses. When I heard about Made You Up by Francesca Zappia, I knew it was a book that was right up my alley. I was not left feeling disappointed.The plot and world building felt very realistic although I'm not Schizophrenic nor do I know anyone who is. I could not tell what was real and what was a delusion by Alex. Kudos to Zappia for giving us a brief glimpse into how a Schizophrenic would feel. I kept second guessing myself throughout Made You Up. Sometimes it would be obvious that Alex was hallucinating, but there were many times everything felt too real to be a hallucination. I would be wrong, and something realistic would be a hallucination. As you can imagine, there were many plot twists throughout this book. There was one major plot twist which I had predicted towards the beginning which turned out to be true thanks to subtle hints the author would throw in, so be sure to be attention to every word on the page to try to grasp what is Alex's reality and what is not. I did feel like the main storyline of Made You Up was whether or not Miles, the boy Alex met briefly when she was a young child, was actually real or not since she meets him again her senior year of high school. It was fun trying to guess if Miles was real or not and if he was the same boy Alex met as a child.All of the characters in Made You Up had a lot of depth to them. They were all easy for me to imagine as real people instead of characters in a book. I enjoyed reading about Alex and her thought process and what all she had to go through all the time due to her Schizophrenia. Alex, like all the characters in this book, was a very likable character. Miles was interesting. I didn't really know what to make of him throughout the book (mainly because I was trying to figure out if he was real or imaginary). I did enjoy him, and I was definitely intrigued by his back story. It was great learning about him. I loved little Charlie and how much she seemed to love her big sister, Alex. Alex loved Charlie so much as well, and I loved reading about the tight sisterly bond between them. Trigger warnings for Made You Up include some profanity, some violence, death, minor gore, some child abuse, mental illness, a minor sexual situation, bullying, references to Nazis, attempted murder, and death.All in all, Made You Up is a very interesting read with a fantastic plot and well developed characters. It's obvious the author did her homework before writing this novel. I would definitely recommend Made You Up by Francesca Zappia to those aged 16+ who are seeking a book full of twists and turns. Just be warned that this book will have you second guessing almost everything (which isn't a bad thing).
- Rating: 2 out of 5 stars2/5This book should have been a winner. I love unreliable narrators and am fascinated with mental illnesses, but "Made You Up" didn't do it for me. It started well, but somewhere along the way, too many side stories were introduced which detracted from the main plot. I liked Miles - he was not the usual YA boyfriend but I couldn't connect with the other characters. Also, having a close relative with schizophrenia, I don't think the author gave a realistic insight into what it is like living with this condition. Overall, meh!
1 person found this helpful
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5I loved everything about this book. It's surprising to see that this is Zappia's first novel because the story and characters are so well written and dynamic.
Imagine never knowing what is real and what is a figment of your imagination. For Alex, a schizophrenic teenager, this is everyday life. She longs to have a "normal" teenage life without her paranoia and hallucinations taking over, but high school seems determined to make that impossible. With friends like Miles and Tucker, she navigates her way through the trenches of high school where a different kind of crazy reigns.
I did not expect to feel such emotion because of this book. Alex's struggle determining what is real and what isn't is portrayed in a way that has your heart hurting for her. To be a victim of your own brain, to never know what you can trust, and to constantly have to hide a part of you that consumes you- these are things she had to deal with all the while trying to embrace and survive high school.
Alex's and Miles' friendship was a highlight of the book. He accepts her regardless of her illness and I love that he doesn't try to change her, nor is she miraculously healed by the love of a boy. Instead, he challenges her and later gives her someone to lean on while also treating her as if her mental disorder doesn't define her (which it doesn't!). In turn, she gives him a friendship, then love, that has largely been missing from his life. She as essential to him as he is to her.
The secondary characters are just as developed. It is a well rounded cast that includes the popular kids, the bullies, and the true friends one can find in high school. On top of that, Alex's family (and even Miles') add depth to their character, and also bring in the family perspective of living with someone with a mental disorder.
So often I am angered or sadden by the portrayal of mental illness in books. But Zappia does a wonderful job here depicting the truth and difficulties of schizophrenia while not letting it be the only defining factor of Alex. She is so much more than her disease and I think that shows through wonderfully in Made You Up.2 people found this helpful
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Unreliable narrator, insight into schizophrenia, sort of, I think the diagnosis is too early. And yet, I was totally drawn into this story. I'll need to buy it for my library, as I had to borrow it to read it.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5I was immediately drawn to this book by the cover. It is GORGEOUS! Even the back cover is awesome! The story sounded so interesting but I was a little nervous because I had very recently read two other books involving schizophrenia - one I liked, one not so much. I loved this book! I devoured this book! I loved the main character, Alex, and her new friends at her new school. Especially Miles. There was some comedy, drama and heartache. This book is a total package. The only issue I had while reading were a couple of plot points didn't seem to really line up. I felt like I missed something but when I went back to look, couldn't find it. It only happened once or twice and it really didn't take away from anything so it was not a big deal. Overall I just really loved this book and will definitely be rereading it and recommending it.
1 person found this helpful
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5What an amazing book! Made You Up is well written taking the difficult subject of mental illness and making it accessible to a young audience by weaving it into the life of a high school student trying to find her way in a new school. Alex suffers through the usual angst associated with high school, but wondering all the while how much of her new life is real and how much is imagined. If you read this story, have a few tissues ready because it will grab your emotions and not let go until the very end. The climax was a little hard to follow, not knowing how much was really happening in the story and how much Alex was imagining, but without a doubt, this story is well worth reading.
1 person found this helpful
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5I couldn't put this book down. It has been on my to read pile for over a year. I love the cover and it matches the book perfectly. Mental illness is a difficult subject but I appreciate that the author tackled the subject and explored the life of a teenage female with paranoia schizophrenia. The challenge of just wanting to be normal and not live a life defined by medications and therapy was approached with laughter, wit and strong will. I loved the relationship between the two main characters and the various life challenges they both faced like domestic violence and poverty. Usually I stay away from books that address heavy issues but this one was so light and the characters were so lovable that I couldn't resist. It was a pleasure to read. However, the ending did suck since I felt the author should have allowed the main characters to triumph but it doesn't ruin the story. Highly recommend
1 person found this helpful
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Review courtesy of Dark Faerie TalesQuick & Dirty: What a fantastically amazing read! This story of a schizophrenic girl struggling with reality is not one to be missed.Opening Sentence: Sometimes I think people take reality for granted.The Review:Made You Up is officially one of my favourite reads from 2015. Call me morbid but I’ve read more books about mental illnesses in the past five months than I probably have in my entire life. Made You Up tops that list.Alex is schizophrenic and incredibly paranoid. She performs a perimeter check wherever she goes, searches for poison in the food her mother feeds her and takes photographs of everything to help distinguish between reality and her hallucinations. I sympathised with her because although she’s trying to take control of her life, her biggest fear is students from her new school discovering her illness and bullying her. That, and being sent to the mental asylum.Schizophrenia isn’t supposed to manifest until a person’s late teens, at the earliest, but I’d gotten a shot of it at just seven years old. I was diagnosed at thirteen. Paranoid got tacked on about a year later, after I verbally attacked a librarian for trying to hand me propaganda pamphlets for an underground communist force operating out of the basement of the public library. (She’d always been a very suspect type of librarian – I refuse to believe donning rubber gloves to handle books is a normal and accepted practice, and I don’t care what anyone says.)I adored Miles because he’s so different from the standard book boyfriend. Miles is a genius but everyone’s terrified of him for one reason or another. No one really knows him, all they know is that he does odd jobs for money, be that stealing someone’s beloved dog or breaking into a house and playing a prank. He distances himself from everyone and is ultimately the Moody guy no one dares approach for fear of angering him.“Why do you hate him so much?” I asked Tucker.“I don’t know if ‘hate’ is the right word,” he replied. “’Am afraid of him,’ ‘wish he’d stop staring,’ and ‘think he’s a lunatic’ are more accurate.”“Afraid of him?”“The whole school is.”“Why?”“Because it’s impossible to know what’s going on in his head.” Tucker looked back to me. “Have you ever seen a person completely change? Like, completely completely? So much that they don’t even have the same facial expressions they used to? That’s what happened to him.”When Alex arrives at school, for a minute she thinks Miles is the boy she met as a little girl when she tried to free the lobsters. But, he can’t be the same kind boy with blue eyes because her family forced her to believe that the lobster incident was one of her hallucinations. Not to mention, this older blue-eyed boy is cold, mean and plays horrible pranks on Alex. Not one to cower away, Alex retaliates with her version of revenge and I loved the argumentative banter between the two.What I loved most is that the story isn’t just about Alex and her illness, it’s also about Miles and his struggles at home. They complemented each other perfectly and I thought their relationship was beyond cute. Neither is perfect but they make the other better, and I loved that aspect of their romance. Plus they’re both the ultimate historian nerds, which made me chuckle.This is a beautifully written, touching read with plenty of humour, I highly suggest you read it immediately! (Or as soon as you can)Notable Scene:“Are you real?” I asked.“Yes, I am,” he said resolutely. He pressed my hand harder to his chest. His heart beat like a drum.“I am real. This”-he put his other hand over the first-“is real. You see me interacting with other people all day long, don’t you? I talk to people; I affect things in the world. I cause things to happen. I am real.”“But-but what if this whole place”-I had to suck in air again-“what if everything is inside my head? East Shoal and Scarlet and this bridge and you-what if you’re not real because nothing is real?”“If nothing’s real, then what does it matter?” he said. “You live her. Doesn’t that make it real enough?”FTC Advisory: Greenwillow/HarperTeen provided me with a copy of Made You Up. No goody bags, sponsorships, “material connections,” or bribes were exchanged for my review.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Alex (named after Alexander the Great) is a senior starting at a new school, East Shoal High School. After writing “Communist” on the floor of her old high school’s gym in red paint it was time to move on. The problem with Alex is that she doesn’t necessarily know what is real and what is imaginary.For instance, she remembers when she was seven that she let the lobsters out of the tank at the local supermarket. She also remembers an accomplice, a blue-eyed boy her age who held her up to the tank. However, when her mother caught up to her, the accomplice was gone. Was it a figment of her imagination or reality?Imagine Alex’s concern when, on her first day of senior year, she sees someone who is the spitting image of her accomplice, just ten years older. The same intense blue eyes.Alex is forced to do community service for the prior year’s infraction. This entails working in the East Shoal Recreational Athletics Support Club, getting the gym ready for after school sports, directly with Mr. Blue Eyes (Miles)…who, by the way, is not meeting her idealized vision.In Made You Up, Francesca Zappia makes it quite clear that Alex hallucinates. However, she also makes it quite clear that the “normal kids” are equally dysfunctional in their own unique ways. Everyone has something to hide including Miles, Alex and her parents, students and teachers. I’ll be quite honest…there were times that I didn’t know what was real and what was imaginary.I had a friend in high school who thought that life is inside a person’s head. In other words, nothing else existed. A person’s entire life was in his imagination; it’s just you living inside your head. Everything that happens, you imagine. All your friends, you imagine. Made You Up feels like it is playing out that scenario…everything that happens is in Alex’s imagination. Scary thought, huh?The plot is a little (or maybe a lot) off kilter…not believable. But I enjoyed the book because of the characters. Alex, Miles and the entire after school club are good characters. And the bad characters are truly bad.Made You Up is an interesting spin on schizophrenia. Are you really reading it or are you imagining that you’re reading it?
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5I wanted to read Made You Up because I deal with mental health issues myself, and I love books that handle it well, and give readers a view into a world view and problems that they might not otherwise experience or understand. I don't deal with schizophrenia personally, but I have other issues, and can relate in some ways, but also have a lot to learn myself. Alex is an easy character to like. The way that she describes the world is so real, but that's the thing for her, sometimes she has a hard time distinguishing what is real and what is a delusion. I can't help but feel for her, especially as she is describing her experience with doctors and finding the right medicines. It can be such a challenge to find a doctor that you trust, and then finding the right meds, ones that don't have huge side effects, and actually help more than hurt is a journey and experience all on its own. I think that it stays pretty realistic to what could easily be a real life medical experience. Having an unreliable narrator is always an experience but this one surprised me more than most. There were certain aspects that I never even imagined could be a delusion but it was and it threaded throughout the whole book. There was also a scene that I would've bet my bottom dollar was a delusion that turned out to be real life. So it was surprising and it made me feel even more deeply for her because her lines of reality and hallucination are always so blurred. I enjoyed the relationships that she formed in this one. They were complex and unique. Miles is a trouble maker, and he pulls some pranks on her and she dishes it right back out, earning her a spot in his closed off friendship bubble. They really complemented each other, and he wasn't easy to shake, and he ended up being a rock for her. He had his own back story that was fascinating as well as reasons to be more accepting of Alex and understanding of her illness. The other secondary characters were well done too. There were some absolute jerks, and some others who also liked Alex regardless of her problems. She had forced community service with a club that helped with the snack bar, and setting up and breaking down equipment for after school sports. They were an eclectic bunch and it was interesting seeing their reactions. The whole side story with presumed cheerleading mean girl was an interesting touch as well as the whole fascination of the principal with the scoreboard. It fell on a girl and killed her, and since their principal has been obsessed with it. It adds another dimension to the story, but at times it seemed a bit forced, but still a decent enough mystery and yet another place where we aren't sure where the line of Alex's perceptions are spot on or if she is paranoid. There was a romance in this one, and it was sweet enough. I like that it began as friendship, and that always stayed a priority instead of head over heels, nothing else matters like it can be with teens at times. I did enjoy how they ended the story. Alex had to accept a lot about herself and her disease, but I was proud of her determination and her strength. Bottom Line: Look at a teen dealing with schizophrenia, and her getting past that to make friends and even try her hand at romance.
Book preview
Made You Up - Francesca Zappia
Prologue: The Freeing of the Lobsters
If I was good at the grocery store, I got a Yoo-hoo. If I was really good, I got to see the lobsters.
Today, I was really good.
My mother left me at the lobster tank in the middle of the main aisle while she went to get Dad’s pork chops from the deli counter. Lobsters fascinated me. Everything from their name to their claws to their magnificent red had me hooked.
My hair was that red, the kind of red that looks okay on everything but people, because a person’s hair is not supposed to be red. Orange, yes. Auburn, sure.
But not lobster red.
I took my pigtails, pressed them against the glass, and stared the nearest lobster straight in the eye.
Dad said my hair was lobster red. My mother said it was Communist red. I didn’t know what a Communist was, but it didn’t sound good. Even pressing my hair flat against the glass, I couldn’t tell if my dad was right. Part of me didn’t want either of them to be right.
Let me out,
said the lobster.
He always said that. I rubbed my hair against the glass like the tank was a genie’s lamp and the action would stir up some magic. Maybe, somehow, I could get those lobsters out. They looked so sad, all huddled on top of one another, antennae twitching, claws rubber-banded together.
Are you buying one?
I saw Blue Eyes’s reflection in the glass of the lobster tank before he spoke. Big blue eyes. Blueberry blue. No, that was too dark. Ocean blue. Too green. Blue like all the blue crayons I had, all melted into one.
The straw I’d jammed down the neck of my Yoo-hoo bottle dangled from my lips.
Are you buying one?
he said again. I shook my head. He pushed his glasses up his nose, back into place on his golden-freckled cheeks. The dirty collar of his shirt slipped down to reveal a freckled shoulder. The stench of fish and pond scum clung to him.
Did you know fossils of the clawed lobster date back to the Cretaceous?
he asked. I shook my head—I would have to ask Dad what a Cretaceous
was—and took a long, slurping drink of Yoo-hoo.
He was staring at me and not the lobster. Animalia Arthropoda Malacostraca Decapoda Nephropidae,
he said.
He tripped up a little on the last word, but it didn’t matter since I hadn’t understood anything that had come out of his mouth.
I like scientific classification,
he said.
I don’t know what that means,
I said.
He pushed his glasses up again. "Plantae Sapindales Rutaceae Citrus."
I don’t know what that means, either.
You smell like lemons.
I felt a flurry of delirious joy because he’d said, You smell like lemons
instead of Your hair is red.
I knew my hair was red. Everyone could see my hair was red. I did not, however, know that I smelled like fruit.
You smell like fish,
I told him.
He wilted, his freckled cheeks burning. I know.
I looked around for my mother. She was still standing in line at the deli counter and didn’t seem to have any plans to collect me soon. I grabbed his hand. He jumped and stared at the connection like something both magical and dangerous had happened.
Do you wanna be friends?
I asked. He looked up and reset his glasses once again.
Okay.
Yoo-hoo?
I offered the drink.
What’s a Yoo-hoo?
I pushed the drink a little closer to his face, in case he hadn’t seen it. He took the bottle and inspected the straw.
Mom said I shouldn’t drink after someone else. It’s unsanitary.
But it’s chocolate,
I replied.
He looked uncertainly at the Yoo-hoo bottle before taking a wimpy sort of sip and shoving the bottle back my way. He didn’t move for a second, didn’t speak, but, eventually, he leaned over for another drink.
As it turned out, Blue Eyes knew a lot more than the scientific classifications of plants and animals. He knew everything. He knew the prices of everything in the store. He knew how much it would cost to buy all the lobsters in the lobster tank ($101.68, sales tax not included). He knew the names of presidents and what order they served in. He knew the Roman emperors, which impressed me even more. He knew that the circumference of the Earth was forty thousand kilometers, and that only the male cardinal was bright red.
But he really knew words.
Blue Eyes had a word for everything.
Words like dactylion and brontide and petrichor. Words whose meanings slipped from my grasp like water.
I didn’t understand most of what he said, but I didn’t mind. He was the first friend I’d ever had. The first real friend.
Also, I really liked holding his hand.
Why do you smell like fish?
I asked him. We walked slowly as we talked, making long circles in the main aisle.
I was in a pond,
he said.
Why?
I got thrown in.
Why?
He shrugged and reached down to scratch at his legs, which were covered in Band-Aids.
Why are you hurt?
I asked.
"Animalia Annelida Hirudinea."
The words left his mouth like a curse. His cheeks flared red as he scratched more fervently. His eyes had gone all watery. We stopped at the tank.
One of the store employees came out from behind the seafood counter and, ignoring us, opened a hatch on top of the lobster tank. With one gloved hand, he reached in and pulled out Mr. Lobster. He closed the hatch and carried the lobster off.
And I got an idea.
Come here.
I pulled Blue Eyes to the back of the tank. He wiped his eyes. I stared at him until he stared back. Will you help me get the lobsters out?
He sniffed. Then he nodded.
I set my Yoo-hoo bottle on the floor and held my arms up. Can you lift me?
He wrapped his arms around my waist and lifted me. My head shot above the top of the lobster tank, my shoulders level with the hatch. I was a chubby kid and Blue Eyes probably should’ve snapped in half, but he only wobbled a bit, grunting.
Just hold still,
I told him.
The hatch had a handle near the edge. I grabbed it and pulled it open, shivering at the chilly blast of air that whooshed out.
What are you doing?
Blue Eyes asked, his voice muffled by his strain and my shirt.
Be quiet!
I said, looking around. No one had noticed us yet.
The lobsters were piled up just below the hatch. I plunged my hand in. Shock raced up my spine from the cold. My fingers closed around the nearest lobster.
I expected it to thrash its claws and curl and uncurl its tail. But it didn’t. I felt like I was holding a heavy shell. I pulled it out of the water.
Thank you,
the lobster said.
You’re welcome,
I replied. I dropped it on the ground.
Blue Eyes stumbled, but didn’t lose his grip on me. The lobster sat there for a moment, then started crawling along the tile.
I reached in for another. And another. And another. And pretty soon the entire tank of lobsters was crawling across the tile floor of the Meijer supermarket. I didn’t know where they were going, but they seemed to have a pretty good idea. Blue Eyes dropped me with a huff and we both landed in a puddle of cold water. He stared at me, his glasses clinging to the tip of his nose.
Do you do this all the time?
he asked.
No,
I said. Just today.
He smiled.
Then the yelling started. Hands grabbed my arms and jerked me to my feet. My mother was shouting at me, pulling me away from the tank. I looked past her. The lobsters were already gone. Freezing water dripped from my arm.
Blue Eyes still stood in the puddle. He picked up my abandoned Yoo-hoo bottle and waved good-bye. I tried to get my mother to stop, to go back so I could ask him his name.
She just walked faster.
Part One: The Tank
Chapter One
Sometimes I think people take reality for granted.
I mean like how you can tell the difference between a dream and real life. When you’re in the dream you may not know it, but as soon as you wake up, you know that your dream was a dream and whatever happened in it, good or bad, wasn’t real. Unless we’re in the Matrix, this world is real, and what you do in it is real, and that’s pretty much all you ever need to know.
People take that for granted.
For two years after that fateful day in the supermarket, I thought I’d really set the lobsters free. I thought they’d crawled away and found the sea and lived happily ever after. When I turned ten, my mother found out that I thought that I was some kind of lobster savior.
She also found out all lobsters looked bright red to me.
First she told me that I hadn’t set any lobsters free. I’d gotten my arm into the tank before she’d appeared to pull me away, embarrassed. Then she explained that lobsters only turn bright red after they’re boiled. I didn’t believe her, because to me they had never been any other color. She never mentioned Blue Eyes, and I didn’t need to ask. My first-ever friend was a hallucination: a sparkling entry on my new resume as a crazy person.
Then my mother had taken me to see a child therapist, and I’d gotten my first real introduction to the word insane.
Schizophrenia isn’t supposed to manifest until a person’s late teens, at the earliest, but I’d gotten a shot of it at just seven years old. I was diagnosed at thirteen. Paranoid got tacked on about a year later, after I verbally attacked a librarian for trying to hand me propaganda pamphlets for an underground Communist force operating out of the basement of the public library. (She’d always been a very suspect type of librarian—I refuse to believe donning rubber gloves to handle books is a normal and accepted practice, and I don’t care what anyone says.)
My medication helped sometimes. I knew it was working when the world wasn’t as colorful and interesting as it normally was. Like when I could tell the lobsters in the tank were not bright red. Or when I realized that checking my food for tracers was ridiculous (but did it anyway because it calmed the prickle of paranoia on the back of my neck). I also knew it was working when I couldn’t remember things clearly, felt like I hadn’t slept in days, and tried to put my shoes on backward.
Half the time, the doctors weren’t even sure what the medicine would do. Well, it should lessen the paranoia, delusions, and hallucinations, but we’ll have to wait and see. Oh, and you’ll probably feel tired sometimes. Drink a lot of fluids, too—you can get dehydrated easily. Also, it could cause a lot of fluctuation in your weight. Really, it’s up in the air.
The doctors were oodles of help, but I developed my own system for figuring out what was real and what wasn’t. I took pictures. Over time, the real remained in the photo while the hallucinations faded away. I discovered what sorts of things my mind liked to make up. Like billboards whose occupants wore gas masks and reminded passersby that poison gas from Hitler’s Nazi Germany was still a very real threat.
I didn’t have the luxury of taking reality for granted. And I wouldn’t say I hated people who did, because that’s just about everyone. I didn’t hate them. They didn’t live in my world.
But that never stopped me from wishing I lived in theirs.
Chapter Two
The night before my first day of senior year at East Shoal High School, I sat behind the counter at Finnegan’s diner, my eyes scanning the dark windows for signs of suspicious movement. Normally the paranoia wasn’t so bad. I blamed it on the first-day thing. Getting chased out of the last school was one thing—starting at a new one was something completely different. I’d spent all summer at Finnegan’s trying not to think about it.
You know, if Finnegan was here, he’d call you crazy and tell you to get back to work.
I spun around. Tucker leaned against the door to the kitchen, hands jammed in the pockets of his apron, grinning at me. I would’ve snapped at him if he weren’t my only informant about East Shoal—and my only friend. Gangly, bespectacled, hair black as an oil slick and always perfectly combed forward, Tucker was a busboy, waiter, and cashier here at Finnegan’s, not to mention the smartest person I’d ever met.
He didn’t know about me. So his saying that Finnegan would call me crazy was pure coincidence. Finnegan knew, of course; his sister was my latest therapist, the one who’d gotten me this job. But none of the other employees—like Gus, our mute, chain-smoking cook—had any idea, and I planned on keeping it that way.
Har har,
I replied, trying to act cool. Beat down the crazy, said the little voice in the back of my head. Don’t let it out, you idiot.
The only reason I’d taken the job here was because I needed to appear normal. And maybe a little bit because my mother forced me to take it.
Any other questions?
Tucker asked, walking over to lean against the counter next to me. Or is the crusade over?
You mean the inquisition. And yes, it is.
I kept my gaze from wandering back to the windows. I’ve been in high school for three years already—East Shoal can’t be that much different than Hillpark.
Tucker snorted. "East Shoal is different than everywhere. But I guess you’ll find out tomorrow."
Tucker was the only person who seemed to think East Shoal wasn’t the perfect place to be. My mother thought a new school was a great idea. My therapist insisted I’d do better there. Dad said it’d be okay, but he sounded like my mother had threatened him, and if he’d been here and not somewhere in Africa he would’ve told me what he really thought.
Anyway,
Tucker said, weeknights aren’t nearly as bad as weekends.
I could tell. It was ten-thirty, and the place was dead. And by dead, I mean it was like the entire possum population of suburban Indiana. Tucker was supposed to be training me to work nights. I’d only worked the day shift during summer, a plan concocted by my therapist that my mother had quickly blessed. But now that school was starting, we’d agreed I could work at night.
I grabbed Finnegan’s Magic 8 Ball from behind the cash register. My thumb went for the red scuff mark on the back of the ball, trying to rub it out like I always did whenever I got bored. Tucker was now preoccupied with lining up a pepper shaker cavalry across from a hostile regiment of saltshaker footmen.
We’ll still get a few stragglers,
he said. Creepy late nighters. We got this really drunk guy one time—you remember him, Gus?
A thin line of cigarette smoke trailed through the short-order window and up to the ceiling. In response to Tucker’s question, several large puffs clouded the air. I was pretty sure Gus’s cigarette wasn’t real. If it was, we were breaking about a hundred health codes.
Tucker’s expression went dark. His eyebrows drew together, his voice flattening out. Oh. And there’s Miles.
Miles who?
He should be here soon.
Tucker squinted at his condiment skirmish. "He comes on his way home from work. He’s all yours."
I narrowed my eyes. "And why, exactly, is he all mine?"
You’ll see.
He glanced up when a pair of headlights illuminated the parking lot. He’s here. Rule one: don’t make eye contact.
What, is he a gorilla? Is this Jurassic Park? Am I going to get attacked?
Tucker shot me a serious look. It’s a definite possibility.
A kid our age walked through the door. He was wearing a white T-shirt and black jeans. A Meijer polo dangled from one hand. If this was Miles, he didn’t give me much of a chance to make eye contact; he went straight to the corner table in my section and sat with his back to the wall. From experience, I knew that seat was the best vantage point in the room. But not everyone was as paranoid as I was.
Tucker leaned through the short-order window. Hey, Gus. You have Miles’s usual?
Gus’s cigarette smoke curled in the air as he handed over a cheeseburger and fries. Tucker took the plate, filled a glass with water, and plunked everything on the counter beside me.
I jumped when I realized Miles was staring at us over the rims of his glasses. A wad of cash had already been placed on the edge of the table.
Is there something wrong with him?
I whispered. You know . . . mentally?
He’s definitely not like the rest of us.
Tucker huffed and went back to building his armies.
He’s not a Communist. He’s not wired. Don’t check under the table, idiot. He’s just a kid who wants some food.
Miles lowered his eyes as I walked up.
Hi!
I said, cringing even as the word left my mouth. Too perky. I coughed, scanned the windows on either side of the table. Um, I’m Alex.
I lowered my voice. I’ll be your waitress.
I set the food and water down. Can I get you anything else?
No, thank you.
He finally looked up.
Several synapses imploded inside my brain. His eyes.
Those eyes.
His glare peeled away the layers of my skin and pinned me to the spot. Blood rushed to my face, my neck, my ears. He had the bluest eyes I’d ever seen. And they were completely impossible.
My palms itched for my camera. I needed to take a picture of him. I needed to document this. Because the Freeing of the Lobsters hadn’t been real, and neither was Blue Eyes. My mother had never mentioned him. Not to the therapists, or to Dad, or to anyone. He couldn’t be real.
I screamed curses at Finnegan in my head. He’d forbidden me from bringing my camera to work after I’d photographed an irate man with an eye patch and a peg leg.
Miles nudged the wad of cash toward me with an index finger. Keep the change,
he muttered.
I grabbed it and raced back to the counter.
Hi!
Tucker mimicked in a high falsetto.
Shut up. I didn’t sound like that.
I can’t believe he didn’t bite your head off.
I shoved the wad of cash into the register and brushed my hair back with shaking hands. Yeah,
I said. Me either.
While Tucker stepped out back for his break, I commandeered his condiment armies. Gus’s cigarette smoke wafted toward the ceiling, pulled into the vent. The oscillating fan on the wall made the papers on the employee bulletin board flutter.
Halfway through my recreation of the Battle of the Bulge, I shook Finnegan’s Magic 8 Ball to find out if the German saltshaker would be successful in his offensive.
Ask again later.
Useless thing. If the Allies had taken that advice, the Axis would have won the war. I kept myself from looking at Miles for as long as I could. But eventually my eyes wandered back to him, and I couldn’t look away. He ate with stiff movements, like he was barely keeping himself from stuffing everything into his mouth. And every few seconds, his glasses slid down his nose and he pushed them back up.
He didn’t move when I refilled his water. I stared at the top of his sandy-haired head as I poured, mentally urging him to look up.
I was so busy focusing that I didn’t notice the cup was full until the water ran over the top. I dropped it in shock. The water splashed all over him—across his arm, down his shirt, into his lap. He stood up so fast his head smashed into the overhead light and the entire table tipped.
I—oh, crap, I’m sorry—
I ran back to the counter where Tucker stood, a hand clamped over his mouth, his face turning red, and grabbed a towel.
Miles used his Meijer polo to absorb some of the water, but he was soaked.
"I am so sorry." I reached out to dry his arm, very aware that my hands were still shaking.
He recoiled before I could touch him, glaring at me, the towel, back at me. Then he grabbed his polo, shoved his glasses up his nose, and escaped.
It’s fine,
he muttered as he passed me. He was out the door before I could say another word.
I finished cleaning up the table, then trudged back to the counter.
Tucker, composed, took the dishes from me. Bravo. Brilliant job.
Tucker.
Yes?
Shut up.
He laughed and disappeared into the kitchen.
Was that Blue Eyes?
I grabbed the Magic 8 Ball and rubbed the scuff mark as I looked down into its round window.
Better not tell you now.
Evasive little bitch.
Chapter Three
The first thing I noticed about East Shoal High School was that it didn’t have a bike rack. You know a school is run by stuck-up sons of bitches when it doesn’t even have a bike rack.
I shoved Erwin behind the blocky green shrubs lining the school’s front walk and stepped back to make sure the tires and handlebars were hidden. I didn’t expect anyone to steal, touch, or notice him, since his rusty diarrhea color made people subconsciously avert their eyes, but I felt better knowing he was out of harm’s way.
I checked my bag. Books, folders, notebooks, pens, and pencils. My cheap digital camera—one of the first things I’d bought when I’d gotten the job at Finnegan’s—dangled from its strap around my wrist. I’d already taken a picture of four suspicious-looking squirrels lined up on the red brick wall outside my neighbor’s house this morning, but other than that, the memory card was empty.
Then I did my perimeter check. Perimeter checks entailed three things: getting a 360-degree view of my surroundings, noting anything that seemed out of place—like the huge scorched spiral design covering the surface of the parking lot—and filing those things away in case they tried to sneak up on me later.
Kids funneled from their cars to the school, ignoring the men in black suits and red ties who stood at even intervals along the school’s roof. I should’ve known public school would have some weird security. We just had normal security officers at The Hillpark School, my (former) private school.
I joined the procession of students—keeping an arm’s-length distance between myself and the rest of them, because God knows who was bringing weapons to school these days—all the way to the guidance office, where I stood in line for four minutes to get my schedule. While I was there, I took a bunch of college brochures out of the stand in the corner and stuffed them in my backpack, ignoring the weird stares I got from the kid in front of me. I didn’t take crap when it came to college—I had to get in, no matter how early I had to start or how many applications I had to send. If I was lucky, I could guilt-trip some scholarships out of a school or two, the way my parents had done with Hillpark. It didn’t matter how I did it; either I got in or I worked at Finnegan’s for the rest of my life.
I realized everyone around me was wearing a uniform. Black pants, white button-down shirts, green ties. Gotta love the smell of institutional equality in the morning.
My locker was near the cafeteria. Only one other person was there, his locker right next to mine.
Miles.
Memories of Blue Eyes hit me rapid-fire, and I had to turn in a full circle to make sure my surroundings were normal. As I inched closer, I peered into his locker. Nothing unusual. I