So many authors try so hard to get their book to have this beautiful, nicely wrapped up message about life, especially when that book involves a character death. This book doesn't try for any of that, and in fact, outright rejects such a premise. It may be somewhat nihilistic, but I found Greg's emotions, actions, and thoughts to be very realistic.

Greg met Rachel when they were both in Hebrew school at the synagogue, in middle school. They had an organic semi-friendship that fizzled out awkwardly because Greg simply doesn't want to get close to people. He even describes his one friend, Earl, as more of a coworker than a friend. However, when Rachel gets diagnosed with cancer, Greg's mother forces the two to resume their friendship. Understandably, this is fairly awkward. The fact that Rachel is dying is also awkward. Greg doesn't know how to be a good friend. He tries to cheer Rachel up because that's what he's supposed to do. This does make for some raunchy high school boy humor that ten years ago, I would have snort-chortled (snortled?) over. As an adult, I don't really see it as funny. I didn't mind that, though.

Rachel's illness is almost a subplot to this book. It isn't the focus. If you don't want to read The Fault in Our Stars because it'll make you cry, that's no reason to stay away from this book. I shed no tears in this one, and I'm a relatively easy crier thanks to repeated exposure to Sarah McLaughlin's animal commercials. Instead, I took away that life happens and whatever you feel or don't feel about it is valid. It's also hard to get to really know people, but we can't get to know others until we open up to allowing ourselves to be known. We can go through the motions and speak to people, but we won't have any fulfilling interactions until we open ourselves up to being vulnerable.

With that said, this one won't be going in my classroom library (due to all the language and sexual references), but I may hold onto my copy of it to give to the right kid if the situation calls for it.