Wow, this book is all over the place. Familial drama; mental instability; abandonment; murder; a hippie commune?? There is so much going on in here, and I don't know exactly what I'm supposed to focus on. Or what the overarching plot is. It's a coming of age tale about Richard, aka Rocky, a boy who worships his cool older brother. Even after said brother suddenly disappears. You can't exactly blame Richard--he was only eight at the time--but there's something unsettling and disjointed about it all. 
 The writing is wonderful and engaging. It kept me turning the pages, even after I no longer cared about the conclusion of these characters. Because that's the type of story this is--there's drama piled on top of drama, but everything and everyone needs a resolution in the end. It's all a little too clean-cut for me. 
 The beginning is good. Eight-year-old Rocky is charming, even if a little too self-aware for an eight-year-old. And it's wonderful after Paul leaves. The abandonment is real, and not just from Rocky's perspective. The family feels it, and their little town feels it. This is solid. But after that? The plot becomes a messy conglomerate, and I cared less and less about what was going on. 
 But I really enjoyed the way it was written? You see why I'm torn. 
 Its saving grace is the many ways we do experience love. Yes, there is romantic love, but there's so much more. And it's not all good and pure love, either--it's obsessive, or lustful, or twisted. It's not understanding love at all. Which is why, perhaps, it breaks your heart.