Starred Review "The way it looks is not the way it is," begins Lynch's bone-chilling new novel. It looks like a date rape, and in the novel's first scene, set just after the alleged crime, teen Gigi accuses narrator Keir, whose terrifying denial ("I am a good guy . . and so I could not have done this") sets the book's tone. Many YA novels about rape, such as Laurie Halse Anderson's Speak (1999), have shown the horror and pain from the victim's perspective, but Lynch's daring story is told in the defensive voice of the accused rapist. In chapters that move between the rape scene and the past, Keir tries to convince readers of his own innocence and earn their trust: "I'm going to tell you the truth," he says early on. "You could ask pretty much anybody and they will tell you. Rock solid, Keir. Kind of guy you want behind you . . . Loyal, polite. Funny. Good manners. He was brought up right, that boy was. " Attempting to defend his character with anecdotes from his senior year of high school, Keir relates a string of disturbing, morally ambiguous stories in an energetic voice that's alternately playful, earnest, rational, and, as almost all readers will recognize, deluded. Many stories involve Keir's football team, including an on-field accident in which Keir cripples a receiver during a routine play and releases himself from blame. When Keir joins his teammates in violent year-end hazing and vandalism, and then watches a videotape of their actions, he struggles to reconcile the reality of himself and his friends as frightening aggressors with the "lovable rogues" he has imagined. His rationalizations, his response to so many incidents, convince readers that they are listening to an unreliable narrator, a sense that only increases as the story progresses, returning frequently to the rape scene, and Gigi's furious and clear accusation: "You raped me." In one of the many remarks directed straight to readers, Keir says, "I'm lying. I said I wouldn't do that to you, but I am," which simultaneously undermines his credibility and draws him closer to his audience, creating an uncomfortable intimacy that Lynch masterfully balances throughout the novel. Through expertly drawn, subtle, every-guy details, Lynch creates a nuanced, wholly believable character that will leave many readers shaking with recognition: They know this guy, a strong athlete who fleetingly struggles with his self image, loves (and is disappointed by) his family, wants to have fun with his friends, and has a deep crush on a girl. His very familiarity, combined with his slippery morality, violent actions, and shocking self-denial, will prompt many readers to question themselves, and their own decisions and accepted ways of talking and behaving with each other. Teens may doubt Keir's reliability as a narrator, but his self-recognition, in a final, searing scene, rings true. Here, and throughout this unforgettable novel, Lynch raises fierce, painful questions about athletic culture, family denial, violence, and rape, and readers will want to think and talk about them all. Where does personal responsibility begin? What defines a "good guy"? Are we all capable of monstrous things?

High school senior Keir Sarafian may remind Lynch fans of Earl Pryor, the narrator of <EMPHASIS TYPE=""ITALIC"">Who the Man. Though more intelligent than Earl, Keir is also an unreliable narrator, whose reporting belies to readers the unintended results of his ungainly strength and impulsive actions. As the novel opens, something horrible has happened: "The way it looks is not the way it is. Gigi Boudakian is screaming at me so fearsomely." Intervening chapters in flashback trace how Keir and Gigi, who were childhood friends, arrived at this moment, which readers soon gather is a date rape from Gigi's perspective, and a natural progression of shared intimacy from Keir's viewpoint. Lynch plunges readers into Keir's psyche in a way that makes him almost sympathetic, if frightening. On the football field earlier in the school year, Keir tackled a receiver and crippled him, but in his mind, he was only doing what he was trained to do (the opponents "were getting too comfortable. Too lazy, spoiled, entitled.... It is inexcusable"). Later in the novel, when he learns that his older sisters (he "talks about [them]... like [they were] angels") simply boycotted his graduation (not absent due to exams, as they had said), his world crumbles. With his portrait of Keir, Lynch makes it nearly impossible for readers to see the world in black-and-white terms. This book is guaranteed to prompt heated discussion. Ages 13-up. <EMPHASIS TYPE=""ITALIC"">(Nov.)

Gr 9 Up-Keir is a senior who fancies himself a "lovable rogue." So do his widowed father, his older sisters, and his classmates. He likes being liked; he just doesn't do well with involvement. Keir would never do anything to hurt anyone intentionally-or would he? When he tackles and cripples a member of an opposing football team, it's determined to be an "accident"-one that earns him the good-humored nickname, "Killer." When he and his buddies destroy a town statue, they consider it a high-spirited, funny prank. When he gets drunk, the alcohol abuse is dismissed as "silly, harmless drinks," and drugs at parties are "strictly recreational." And when he date rapes the girl he thinks he loves, at first he convinces himself that "the way it looks is not the way it is." Keir's first-person narrative chillingly exposes the rationalization process that the troubled teen goes through to persuade himself and those around him of his innocence. Characters are clearly developed through immediately post-rape chapters that alternate with flashbacks of Keir's experiences and perceptions leading up to that point. As compelling as Laurie Halse Anderson's Speak (Farrar, 1999), though with a different point of view, this finely crafted and thought-provoking page-turner carefully conveys that it is simply inexcusable to whitewash wrongs, and that those responsible should (and hopefully will) pay the price.-Diane P. Tuccillo, City of Mesa Library, AZ Copyright 2005 Reed Business Information.

When Keir Sarafian cripples an opposing football player, he calls the act "an unfortunately magnificent hit." He defines his heavy drinking as recreational camaraderie, and date rape as a declaration of love. Keir chronicles the events of his senior year in this provocative novel, layering more elaborate excuses on his increasingly violent behavior, and his unreliable narration creeps up on the reader.

Lynch has hit a homerun with this provocative, important read about Keir, a self-proclaimed "good guy" headed for college on a football scholarship. With two sisters in college, Keir lives alone with his lonely, widowed father, who treats Keir more like a buddy than a son. After Keir accidentally cripples an opponent during a football game, things really go awry, especially since his victim lets him off the hook with a letter of forgiveness. With his name cleared, his peers christen him "Killer," a nickname that seems to give him license to do all sorts of unsavory things, such as hazing classmates, vandalizing a statue, trying cocaine and ultimately, date raping Gigi Boudakian. The underage drinking and recreational drug use is handled fairly cavalierly up until the stint with cocaine, but readers will still feel uneasy as the well-crafted sequence of Keir's reckless behaviors crescendos toward a disastrous end. Keir's self-delusion, irresponsibility and sense of invincibility are dangerous, sending the important message to all teens, particularly high-school heroes and their would-be victims, that some things are inexcusable. (Fiction. YA)

The way it looks is not the way it is. This opening line of Lynch's powerful but sure-to-be-controversial novel finds high school senior Keir Sarafian, a "good-guy," accused of date rape on graduation night. In effective, stylized prose where every word and element is a clue to the bigger picture-including a year-long game of RISK, the board game of conflict, control, and vulnerability-the chapters alternate between the aftermath of the "incident" and Keir's recounting of events leading to this night. Keir is the football team's kicker but fills in at cornerback one night, crippling an opposing player with a "perfect hit." He tells his sisters he did not learn any lesson; it was an accident so there was no lesson to learn. In fact, the act of violence earns him a long-awaited football scholarship. When his sisters do not come home for his graduation, an act Keir finds inexcusable, the reader begins to understand how unreliable the narrator is-and how troubled. His perception of every relationship and event is skewed. Keir believes himself to be good--not innocent, but good--repeatedly justifying his actions. Too many drinks, pills, and a long night in a limo with the girl he idolizes, Gigi Boudakian, leads to disaster. Gigi makes some poor choices after her Air Force boyfriend neglects her, but she clearly says no to Keir. Looking through the eyes of a rapist is uncomfortable, but this book is about more than date rape. Lynch's masterful exploration of the difference between perception and reality is fascinating. Teens will reread this short but complex story debating the issues of violence and responsibility. As Keir says, "it was never an issue of intent, but of intensity."-Cindy Dobrez.