It’s 1983, and high-school senior Edward Zanni—equal parts fabulous,
talented, and vulnerable —is 
stuck.
After a pyrotechnic nervous breakdown the admissions panel mistakes for a
genius-level audition, he’s accepted into Juilliard’s prestigious
acting program. The problem? Dad doesn’t want to shell out for a major
he considers frivolous; mom’s been "finding herself" in Peru
for years, and Edward can barely bring in $3.00 an hour at the local
Chicken Lickin’. Edward’s depressed—so depressed that he doesn’t
even want to remember how it feels so he can use it later in his acting.
Enter his friends, whose talents range from creative vandalism (giving
makeovers to regrettable lawn ornaments) to embezzlement (for a good
cause). They’re the kind of pals that come into your life like walking
blessings, ones that will break your finger with a hammer to get you out
of P.E.; bake you brownies after you accidentally call your father a
"shit-for-brains pussy-whipped toad" during an audition, and
discreetly, non-judgmentally, explain to you that "you only drink
Coke or Pepsi with meat and pork...with chicken or fish you drink 7-Up or
Sprite." Between rehearsals for Grease and Godspell and
not-so-secretly obsessing over each other sexually, they plunge into
fraud, forgery, and blackmail in a desperate quest for Edward’s tuition.
Fans of Acito’s humor column will be surprised: high school according
to Marc is even funnier than The Gospel According to Marc. The book is
chock-full of
poke-your-sleeping-partner-awake-because-you-absolutely-have-to-share-this-passage-NOW
with him or her moments. Also helpful tips: for example, mumbling
"The Midnight Ride of Paul Revere" into her crotch while going
down on a girl for the first time can make you seem like a real pro.
[Reviewer’s note: This works when it isn’t the first time, too.] How I
Got Into College does even more for high school musical theatre than
American Pie did for band camp.
It’s moving, too, though—at least as moving as it is funny—and
that’s what lifts a novel that includes an offstage cameo from Sinatra,
a woman who calls her son "Maya Angelou" (well, really "My
Angelo"), and a heck of a lot of dressing up as priests and nuns high
above slapstick. Acito masterfully captures the chief activity of
teenagers: yearning, both physically and intellectually. Everyone is
hopeful; everyone’s sense of self is tender. Egos get inflated and
popped more rapidly than condoms at a bachelor party. And, in a gay piano
bar called Something For the Boys, Edward finds his corner of the sky.
Step into—no, step-ball-change into—this book. Reminisce, regret,
yearn, laugh, remember how your first gay crush felt; remember how your
first standing ovation felt. Get extra copies for your teenage nieces,
nephews, mentees, sons, or daughters, too—this is the kind of book they’ll
pull a high school career’s worth of private jokes from, and carry
around in their backpacks just so they can be close to it at all times.
Emily Lloyd can be scrutinized at
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