Seventeen-year-old Jess Kaplan is a saboteur. Her biggest target--herself.
Relationships don’t stand a chance with Jess after the loss of her father, for which she feels partly responsible, and the gradual realization that the only man she ever loved is dead. Despite the academic and social-networking possibilities, school has merely become a show and Jess, the expert player, has fooled all but the forbidden RJ Montag who intuitively winks his way into her life from the quad below the
LIFE IS CLASSIC, a contemporary YA complete at 89,500, is a juxtaposition of the modern teen with classic literature and film. It is a product of those distressing high school years when I, like Jess, lost my father, became a relationship saboteur, and learned early on that heavy s*** and teenage drama can, indeed, coexist. Today I have a front row seat on said “s***” and “drama” from a new perspective--that of a teacher and confidante.
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LIFE IS CLASSIC
He walked across the quad like he owned the place, capturing the desirous eyes of females in every direction, exuding confidence and indifference. As I stood up the stairs from him at the little balcony on the main level, I watched too. There’s no harm in looking. But that would be where it stopped. RJ Montag could never be more than that to me.
First, I would have to get in line. But more importantly, my mother would never have it. There was some long-running feud between the Kaplans and the Montags. Never spoken of. Never resolved. And the product, RJ and I ran in different circles; we’d just never really crossed paths. Until today.
The first bell had rung, indicating the end of lunch. I was lingering at the top of the balcony delighting in this quintessential So Cal November afternoon. Cool air. Warm sun. My favorite. I’d also slipped into a bit of a trance. RJ was down below, floating through the middle of the quad--the pit as we called it. My heart beat faster. I was marveling at his beauty. He didn’t fit in here. He seemed too good for us.
I was up on my toes all but leaning over the balcony. Good G**, if I could have seen myself. It was as though gravity was pulling me toward him as he walked right below me headed toward the