Smart Bitches Trashy Books | All of the romance, none of the bullshit.

There are myriad issues surrounding their relationship, from letting go of their high school impressions of one another, and of the “jock” and “nerd” roles they played at that time, to determining whether acting on their attraction is worth the risk should they be caught, not to mention the obvious “is this a passing fancy or is this permanent?” wondering on the part of both parties. It’s been a while, now that I think about it, since I’ve read a story that includes the “does s/he like me, or does s/he like me like me” uncertainty. In this case, it was quaint and effective.

The story is told with a lot of head hopping between Brandon and Jake, so the reader experiences the story through a rapidly shifting point of view. That switching can be distracting, as there were moments when I wanted more of Brandon’s impressions or more of Jake’s perspective. Overall, I thought more of the story was explored from Brandon’s point of view, but Jake was a slightly more fascinating character to me: a silly, casual guy who loves sports, loves his job, and misses the opportunities that might have been his had his health and his joints not been sacrificed too early in this lifetime. But that is no slight to Brandon, who is quiet, adorably dedicated in the same way that Jake is to his job and his life, observant, wickedly smart and adaptable in most situations.

Two things that I noticed, one a minor nitpick. I wonder if one of the writers isn’t Australian, because I caught a few instances of Aussie idioms ("What are you on about?” and “good on you,” for example) that I couldn’t quite imagine folks in Georgia using - though one of my friends who lives in Georgia is an Aussie ex-pat, so maybe she’s influenced the world of gay romance. But if I go down South and hear someone ask me if I want a cuppa, I’m more than happy to admit I’m wrong on this one.

The other thing was a potential scene that I kept waiting to materialize but never did. Brandon is a former med student with two Masters degrees in various sciences. When Jake’s shoulder is seizing up on him, causing him considerable pain, Brandon (in a scene of electric sexual tension like yowzer boy howdy) gives him a massage, and explains where the injury is, revealing both his own understanding of human anatomy, and his ability to translate that in to a practical understanding for himself and the reader of how much pain Jake tolerates on a daily basis to simply do his job. Because Jake had surgery on his shoulder, knee, and ankle, and was pushed to keep playing by coaches and his own need for continued scholarship, his body bears a good amount of painful damage, and with Brandon’s explanation, Jake’s dedication and commitment to his teaching job and his coaching responsibilities become more than his joking, laid back persona reveal.

Brandon then offers Jake a massage, using equipment that he has at home from his med school days, and Jake grudgingly accepts - but no massage scene!? What what?! But, but! I was anticipating that scene for many reasons, and was so disappointed when it never arrived. One, hot hot! Two, electric tension, they has it. And three, the power dynamics in Brandon’s and Jake’s relationship are constantly shifting, but most of the time, Brandon is the fish out of water in Jake’s athletic world, and Jake is the individual with the most power, control, and authority. If Brandon gave Jake a therapeutic massage (or a non therapeutic one, nudge nudge, wink wink!) then the authors would have had the opportunity to show off even more of the depth of Brandon’s knowledge (which is holy shit considerable) and his dedication to his own medical school career. At the beginning of the novel Brandon mentions his doctorate, and when his overloaded schedule reaches a breaking point, he has to decide what to do with all his commitments, but I really missed this possible opportunity for these two characters.

However, I have to say, my goodness, I really liked this book. There wasn’t a tremendous amount of angst or “Oh, oh, the anti-gay lynch mob is after us!” fear, but both men acknowledged the reality of being gay within their community that seemed appropriate without being overwhelming. Caught Running grabbed me, and left me with a big fat smile on my face. Those who reject gay romance out of hand would do well to try this story, as it balances well the sexual, emotional, and social elements of contemporary romance between two very real and very captivating men. 

But when Dani’s mom chooses the beach town of Heaven, Dani finds herself longing for things she hasn’t allowed herself to articulate before: she wants to stay. Have real friends. Who use her real name. And who aren’t potential targets for her mom’s next theft. That’s a tall order, because autonomy is one subject in which Dani’s mom hasn’t really given her a great deal of instruction. One of the most descriptive passages of Dani’s narration explains:

For silver I learned to read,write, work numbers. For silver I learned the name of every plantation from Virginia to Florida.... The story of my life can be told in silver: in chocolate mills, serving spoons, and services for twelve. The story of my life has nothing to do with me. The story of my life is things. Things that aren’t mine, that won’t ever be mine.

That one line makes me think of Prufrock.

There’s a good number of romances that glamorize thieves, but if you’ve ever had the violated feeling of being robbed yourself, knowing someone was in your home, helping themselves to your things and invading without your knowledge or permission and stealing what’s precious to you, it’s not too glamorous. And while Dani’s mother has a very concrete and distant way of looking at her potential victims, and at humanity at large, Dani finds herself at an intersection between her growing desire for something different and more in her life, her growing shame and consciousness of what it is that she’s doing, and her growing sense of panic that she’s not suited for or even good enough for anything, or anyone, else. That intersection creates a challenge for the author, and Scott admirably balances Dani’s past crime and her present moral crisis so that the reader can root for her and want her to want to change for her own good, even while acknowledging that Dani is really, really good at what she does.

Dani is the center of the novel, and since it’s YA, the first person narrative is mostly about Dani’s learning to choose her own path and figuring out who she is and wants to be in the period of a few weeks just before she sets her feet in motion down that path. There is a romance, but the person she finds herself falling for, Greg, is as much a catalyst as he is a foil, though he’s a marvelously sweet and considerate guy.

Scott has some great comic skills, particularly in the dialogue. Dani struggles to remember to keep herself, well, to herself and answers Greg with questions nearly every time they speak. After a few meetings between them, their dialogue was so snappy and sharp I wanted him to find her and talk to her, no matter what it meant for the plot. Plot progress? Acquisition of autonomy and self-reliance? Pah! Want sexy dialogue!

One interesting element I just realized: the reader never learns her mother’s name, and all the way to the end of the story her mother never lets go of her life and her dream of shopping for target houses, shopping for opportunities to steal other people’s stuff, then shopping with the money she’s fenced. That points to my biggest frustration with the story, though it is realistic: Dani’s mother doesn’t ever truly recognize the depth of her selfishness and neglect – which is, as I said, totally in line with the behavior pattern of a selfish person. While there are small moments where Dani’s mother does demonstrate that she might be thinking of Dani and her future, most of the time Dani lives her life according to her mother’s wishes because without her mother, no one would want her. The degree to which she doubted her mother’s love made those small moments seem small and brittle in comparison to the true, though brief, overtures of friendship Dani navigates in her first weeks in Heaven. No one, but no one, has ever stood up for her, or made her feel valued for who she was, not what she could steal.

Ultimately, Dani pays the bigger price for her mother’s choices in their lives, and has a good bit of harm to confront when she finally decides that she can be in control of her life instead of her mother. Oddly, her mother is half of the reason Dani ends up in the driver’s seat literally and figuratively, but her mother never fully appreciates what makes Dani happy. She mostly insists on reminding Dani that whatever it is that Dani might do, it won’t make her mother happy.

But because Dani’s decision to own herself and her future comes so close to the end, and the change is pushed by such draining circumstances, I’m left not entirely confident in Dani’s self-ownership. I’m hopeful, and I want her to ride off into the sunset with Greg but I’m not sure that she will. And I wished any one of the people who hurt and neglected Dani had experienced at least one moment of ownership of their own responsibility.

While the ending is hopeful, it’s not a bonafide happily ever after; after being on the outside for so long, Dani’s focus is simple: home and belonging, with belongings that are her own, in her own home. The price that Dani has to pay for that home of belongings is a high one, and it’s a powerful story. Acquiring those things when it means rupturing everything she’s known until then is akin to stealing – stealing her future from her mother, the one who taught her to steal.