This novel exhibits an extraneous amount of hyperbole. “They hate me,” “I love him,” hate, hate, hate, love, love, love, without ever defining these two frequented words in this teen romantic drama. Clearly, this is not my genre.

The highlights of the novel are the descriptions of french food, french landscape, and the opera singer that serenades below the windows of the American High School placed in downtown Paris. I can also appreciate some good sexual tension; however, it immediately evaporates with a lack of character introspection.

A predictable story, dialogue without nuance, and a whiny, ungrateful narrator that gets everything she wants, in the end, is justifiably a delightful teen romance drama, but it’s not for me. Thank you anyway, Stephanie Perkins, for exploring what a group of insanely rich Americans might do if their parents left them, unattended, in France for nine months.