FRIENDS LIKE THESE

An instant friendship between summer interns in 1983 New York veers into rough waters.

“I like the way you never speak before thinking,” says Edie to her new best friend, Beth, who for once is able to deliver a snappy reply: “I like the way you never think before speaking.” The girls, both recent high school graduates, are otherwise opposites: Beth has come to New York City from nowheresville with little money and even less self-confidence, while Edie is the epitome of Manhattan wealth and cool. They join two boys, ultracompetitive Dan and preppy Oliver, in the bustling offices of a daily newspaper. As much as Beth absorbs about journalism from this coveted post, she will learn even more from her sophisticated new friend—and roommate, after Edie rescues her from a cockroach-infested tenement downtown. Rosoff evokes an unbearably hot summer in Manhattan with sidewalk-melting intensity, not skimping on gritty period detail, conveyed in a tabloid tone from the very first page: “Muggers mugged. Junkies jacked up. Pickpockets picked pockets. Flashers flashed, rapists raped and perverts perved. Psycho bag ladies shouted obscenities at miscellaneous crazies. You could get shot just for being in the path of a bullet. AIDS knew where you lived.” Beth, the granddaughter of four Holocaust victims, may be unworldly, but her sensitivity and her moral clarity give her a grounding her loose-cannon friend Edie sorely lacks. The book follows a White default.

Readers who remember the 1980s will enjoy this edgy tale of lost innocence as much as new adults.