This was my second Meg Cabot book (the first being The Princess Diaries, of course), and I have to say she’s really got a way of making her characters lovable even with their flaws. Poor Heather is kind of a psycho, but we understand why and we love her. I loved the setting of the dorm—oops, I mean residence hall—since I worked in one in college. I have to admit, I was a little put off my the suggestion running throughout the book that size 12 really IS fat (mostly because, hey, I’M a size 12), but then I read the bio on the back that Meg Cabot, skinny thing that she is, was once a size 16. And, for some reason, that made me feel better about the whole thing.

yucky. I usually like Meg Cabot’s very in the moment books. But this one just sucks. I can’t read it. I know I know. Some chick dies. She’s gonna find out why people aren’t looking into it. But it’s so… well, frothy. There’s no substance. The plot line isn’t too unpredictable, and the characters are superficial. And the whole “She works in a RESIDENCE HALL, and not a DORM, even though everyone keeps saying DORM.. like omg.. ha ha ha…” yea, not funny. Gets old fast. Yea. I stopped reading this, although my friend, who also likes Cabot’s boooks claims it’s not THAT bad. Not worth doing. IMO, ofcourse, you are entitled to your own.