3.5 ⭐️

This book is a Tilt-A-Whirl of teenage angst, murderous secrets, and a theme park so quirky it makes Six Flags look like a corporate snooze-fest. Sometimes it’s as chaotic as a toddler on a sugar high, but it’s got enough razzle-dazzle to keep you hooked.

First, meet Greta Riley Green, our unreliable narrator with a past so shady it could star in a noir film. After some mysterious “incident” (Bane keeps us guessing like a reality TV cliffhanger), Greta’s trying to reinvent herself at Hyper Kid Magic Land, a theme park that feels both whimsical and unhinged. Think roller coasters, sparkly costumes, and a vibe that screams, “We’re fun, but also maybe haunted.” Greta’s summer job is supposed to be her fresh start, but when Mercy Goodwin, the park’s dazzling star performer, vanishes after asking Greta to meet her, Greta’s plunged into a mystery stickier than a melted popsicle. Was she the last to see Mercy? And why does this park have more missing girls than a true-crime podcast?

Greta herself is a delightfully flawed heroine. She’s persistent, vulnerable, and just broken enough to root for. Her struggle to piece together her fractured past is raw and relatable. I saw a bit of my younger self in her—the girl who thought reinventing herself meant a new haircut and a fake-it-till-you-make-it attitude. (Newsflash: It doesn’t.)

Mercy is a glamorous enigma, all confidence and secrets, and I was invested.  There’s also Ivy, a side character who’s so fierce and funny she deserves her own spin-off. The dialogue pops like bubblegum, and Bane’s take on toxic masculinity (“men are assholes because they choose to be”) had me clapping like I was at a feminist poetry slam. This book is a love letter to girls who are messy, difficult, and unapologetic, and I’m here for it.

Just like a with a Rollercoaster: when you go high, you gotta go low. The pacing can be as wobbly as a bumper car driven by a hungover teen. The first half builds delicious tension, but the second half feels like Bane tried to cram a season of Pretty Little Liars into 100 pages. Some twists are jaw-dropping, but others feel like they were thrown in for shock value, like a haunted house jump-scare that’s more annoying than scary. The romance subplot is cute but thinner than a carnival prize teddy bear—it’s there, but you’re not sure why. Liam is adorable, though. And while I love an unreliable narrator, Greta’s gaps sometimes left me frustrated, like trying to solve a puzzle with half the pieces missing.

Difficult Girls is perfect for fans of A Good Girl’s Guide to Murder or anyone who loves their thrillers with an amusement park. Bane’s debut proves she’s a voice to watch, and I’m already counting down to her next book. If you’re ready for a summer job that’s  dreamy and deadly, grab this book, buckle up, and prepare for a wild ride.