At 15, Grace has more wisdom and insight than I can admit to having at 26. To say Like Mandarin completely blew me away would be an understatement.

Grace is bored in her podunk town of Washokey, Wyoming. Nothing happens here, and she’s got no real way out until college, which feels like light years away. She doesn’t want to end up like everyone else, stuck here for eternity — or worse, end up like her mother who had a taste of freedom when she spent time in Jackson Hole, a town where something happens. Too bad mom threw it all away to come back here, to Washokey, where the only thing she cares about is her sister Taffeta’s pageant career. Since Grace threw her potential pageant career out the window years ago, well, mom doesn’t really care about her.

There is something in Washokey that drives Grace, and that is Mandarin. She’s 17 and the town slut, but she’s everything Grace wants to be: worldly, experienced, edgy, different. Sexy. If Grace could have any of those qualities, she’d be so much happier. If she could even get close to Mandarin, she knows her life would improve by leaps and bounds. Lucky for Grace, a school project leads her to end up in Mandarin’s orbit.

As their school relationship develops into something more serious — friendship, as Mandarin put it (and this acknowledgment is important) — Grace quickly begins to understand that the person she thinks has it all actually might not have anything. That everything she does and everything that feels so loose and free about her might be a cry for help. Mandarin is far from perfect. Grace can’t resist what comes with being associated with her, though, and she continues to spend time with her and seek her out. And when Mandarin suggests she and Grace run away and leave Washokey together to make waves in bigger places, Grace is at first excited. And just to ensure that Grace is on board with this trip, Mandarin will prove to her protege how truly horrible the people in this town are.

Like Mandarin is a little bit Courtney Summers with a little bit Siobhan Vivian with a little bit C. K. Kelly Martin with a little bit of Carol Lynch Williams. That is to say, this is an edgy story about a girl coming to terms with who she is and how the people she interacts with really impact her perception of self. It’s emotionally gripping, and it is completely honest in its portrayal of relationships. It is what every contemporary book should be, and it is one that will not last long on shelves. This book should be given to every teen girl when she enters high school — it is what they experience every day and not just in high school but even after. Hubbard’s book is a girl’s bible.

Grace feels lost. She’s lonely, feels like a bit of an outsider and a castaway in high school. She feels divorced from her own family, where her mother spends more time paying attention to her little sister than her. Grace wasn’t wanted, anyway; she was an accident, the reason her mom’s desire to escape was dashed. But Mandarin — she’s everything Grace longs to be. She’s beautiful. She’s sought after. She’s got a future ahead of her. She’s fearless. The longing Grace expresses is so raw; she believes just by being around Mandarin, her life will be better. That energy, that vibe, it’ll rub off on her, too. Grace goes as far as to imitate Mandarin, slinging her jeans low over her hips, wearing tighter, more revealing clothing, mimicking her trademark walk.

Every girl has felt this. Every girl has felt lost and driftless and believed that what someone else has is what they need. It’ll make them better and stronger. They idolize another girl, put her on a pedestal then hope to reach that, hope to even just touch that. Reading and experiencing this with Grace was tough. I’ve been there. I’ve done that. Sometimes, I still do it and still believe that. How I wanted to redirect Grace here. But I certainly can’t tell her the truths she knows already. She’s got them figured out. I’m not sure I do.

Mandarin isn’t all she’s cracked up to be. She’s a huge liar, but not so much to other people as she is to herself. She tells people things about her family that aren’t true, sure, but the fact is she tells them because they’re the things she’s convinced herself to believe. And the rumors about her being a slut aren’t rumors: she really is. She doesn’t lie to herself about the fact she sleeps around. What she lies to herself about is how this makes her feel. She says it makes her feel powerful, makes her feel like she has something she can hold about the head of other people.

This is a story about power. Mandarin knows she’s admired by Grace, knows that she can turn Grace into whatever she wants to. She knows — at least thinks she knows — Grace’s weak point. She’s going to get her there. Make her bend to her will. THIS is what fuels Mandarin, this power. When we get to the crux of the story though, the moment when Mandarin tries to prove to Grace how messed up the people in Washokey are and that she has no other choice but to leave with her, Grace realizes that Mandarin is doing nothing but lying to herself. Filling herself with meaning when there’s really nothing there. Sleeping with men and convincing herself it’s meaningful even though she knows it’s actually the opposite. And it’s here that I needed to back away because what Grace says to Mandarin is so much smarter and more insightful than anything I’ve ever thought. This is the moment when Grace comes into herself. When she realizes she’s one heck of a person herself.

One of the things I loved about this story was that there wasn’t a traditional romance here. There’s no boy vying for the attention of either of these girls. Hubbard keeps her focus on these girls and that’s all. That’s not to say, though, that what Grace feels toward Mandarin isn’t a crush — she has a complete crush on her. It’s a girl crush. It’s the kind of thing all girls experience, whether they’re willing to vocalize it or not. She’s not a lesbian, and she’s not interested in a romantic relationship with Mandarin. She’s simply infatuated with her. And Mandarin will, of course, tease the hell out of her. Maybe it’s sincere; we’ll never know because we don’t really get to know Mandarin’s internal thoughts. But knowing Mandarin, seeing her actions, understanding how completely unhinged she is, I think she was simply trying to get more of a rise out of Grace. She wanted to mess with her, break her completely.

The relationships feel authentic and are true and real to girls. Hubbard never tries to push the envelope here, never tries to make it anything it’s not. That’s why I appreciated it so much. There’s something honest in a mean girl story, but blatant meanness isn’t the only kind of relationship that happens among girls. Sometimes it’s subtle, even if it’s about power.

If you’ll remember, too, I talked a lot about the idea of place when I reviewed Julia Wertz’s Drinking at the Movies here. I love what Hubbard does in talking about these very issues in her novel. We know how who we are is linked to where we are, and both Grace and Mandarin really expand upon this. They live this and breathe this and believe everything about themselves to be tied to Washokey, though they go about it in different ways. But like Wertz’s character, Grace figures out that it’s only part of her whole. Mandarin, on the other hand, is letting this thing — this place — be her excuse for not confronting her real problems.

In addition to being a fantastic story about power and longing and growth, the writing in Like Mandarin is strong. Hubbard weaves together images that just work well and never feel cliche. As a reader, you feel the aura Grace places around Mandarin. Despite her longing to leave Washokey, you actually see how beautiful it is too — anyone who has spent any time in Wyoming knows the beauty of the open sky and the vast prairies dotted among the mountains. There isn’t a wasted word in this story, nor is the writing sacrificed for the sake of the story. This is a well paced book: it clips along but it does beg the reader to slow down at times and soak in the language.

This book will appeal to teens without question, and I also think this book will have great appeal to 20-somethings. Everything here is still as relevant and as relatable to them as it is to teenagers. I’ll be honest: this book doesn’t hold a whole lot for male readers, and you know what? It doesn’t have to. In fact, I suspect that what Hubbard might open the door for here is an opportunity for someone to shed light into this sort of relationship from the male perspective. This is a book that will speak to girls on a number of levels and it’s an important one. Grace is really something. I think she’ll be something to a lot of girls.

This is a debut author, but I suspect we have a lot to look forward to. I cannot wait for more. If you didn’t get the chance, check out the trailer we debuted right here. I think it captures the book perfectly!