A mess, mostly. A smart 16-year-old spends her senior year at a private school. She (Blue van Meer) attracts the attention of the film studies teacher (Hannah Schneider), who invites her into a clique of five snobbish seniors (the Bluebloods). They strip van Meer out of her intellectual and social cocoon (they give van Meer her first cocktails, and after she throws up, they nickname her "Wretch" and "Hurl"). It's a coming-of-age story, except it's less coming into the new and more leaving the old behind. As the Bluebloods run van Meer through the wringer, Schneider becomes more erratic and the story starts becoming a horror-thriller. Schneider leads the Bluebloods on a over-night camping trip. Schneider takes van Meer deep into the woods, where they get spooked by something. Schneider goes after the something, and van Meer goes after Schneider. She finds Schneider dead, hanging by the neck (this is not a spoiler; van Meer mentions it on the first page). Now the story becomes a mystery. The police rule suicide, but van Meer believes it's murder. van Meer goes to the police to present her views, and the detective in charge gives her a convincing justification for suicide. Nevertheless, van Meer conducts an investigation, and the story diverts into conspiracy theory. As expected van Meer spirals down the rabbit hole until an event (which would be a spoiler if revealed) shocks her out of her pursuit. Then the story swerves back to coming-of-age with van Meer's graduation, in which she delivers a cynical valedictory in the Blueblood character (which she no longer is because Schneider is no longer there to plead van Meer's case with them).

The writing is pyrotechnic in style and in plot, often to no good effect, but it's tricky because the book is presented as van Meer's autobiography written while she's a first-year student at Harvard. It's not Pessl's writing, but Pessl's writing as van Meer's writing, which didn't help me understand why van Meer-Pessl used "Wretch" instead of the more fitting "Retch." It's almost certain this book has to be read at least twice, and it's almost equally certain the second read-through will be more like work than pleasure (I've read it once, and the next read-through is scheduled far in the future).