Let’s be clear from the get go. If you want a more traditional review with a book summary, plot synopsis, and a character family tree, and then possibly a discussion on what the author was trying to accomplish in DARE ME and whether or not she actually achieved her goals, then you’ll probably just want to slide it on back and move on to the next review. Because I’m about as non-traditional as they come. Instead, I like discussing how a book made me feel, or didn’t feel, discussing writing insights where appropriate, tossing around similes and metaphors like used car parts in a Dumpster, and talking about my overall experience with a book, while taking into account my own knowledge of writing and reading and plain old random shit. In other words, I don’t really know what I’m doing, but I have a damn good time being ignorant.
So I’ll start with this: Teenage girls are bitches and badasses. A female praying mantis treats her mate better than high school girls treat each other. And each manages to accomplish this task with a smile on her face and nothing but love in her heart, right before she brings out the icepick and wields it around the same way a construction worker might employ a two-by-four in the middle of a construction zone.
One might argue the mystery was a bit thin, but this book transcended the typical books in this genre, and proved there’s more to a mystery than just the identity of the killer and the resolution of the crime. Instead, this was more about cheerleaders and their penchant to attack one another with vengeance, high school drama that unfolded before me on the page in pinks and purples and shades of red, and the extremes captains and coaches go to all in the name of victory. Yes, cheerleading is a sport, and in some parts of the country it’s mentioned in the Sunday prayers along with football and your best friends Jim Bob and Clara Valentine.
The shower scene in the girl’s locker room at the beginning of this tale reminded me of all the times growing up that I would have practically handed over bodily organs to be given even a brief glimpse behind that steel curtain. But what made this story really click for me was the relationship between Addy Hanlon and Beth Cassidy, gal pals that dance a relationship tango better left choreographed to the professionals. And proves there’s much more to a relationship than what’s shown to the public.
This tale was about as easy to swallow as cotton candy stuffed with razor blades, and now that I know what’s behind the pom-poms I wish I could give it all back, since more knowledge isn’t always the key to happiness, as this story aptly proves.