Listened to this in my car and it was a delight. Frankie is so well-drawn, especially the inner conflict between her desire for independence and her desire for love, and how she falls for a guy (Matthew Livingston!) for whom those two things in a girlfriend are mutually exclusive, and how she comes to terms with that (answer: that is not the guy for her). That's what resonated for me in this book, underneath all the "boarding school, boys clubs, pranks, interventionist art, urban exploration, and so on." The last page is perfect. 
 Favorite parts: 
 the three ways that women react to male social events (p. 84) 
 the entire chapter on "the neglected positive" (p. 107) 
 "In the first few days after the breakup, Frankie had been tormented by the idea that Bess must have been better than she was. Ordinary, pleasant Bess must be prettier, more charming, more experienced, smarter than Frankie -- or Porter wouldn't have cheated. 
 It didn't matter that Bess hadn't become Porter's girlfriend after the incident. 
 It didn't matter that in her heart Frankie knew she was smart and charming. 
 What mattered was that feeling of being expendable. That to Porter, she was a nobody that could easily be replaced by a better model -- and the better model wasn't even so great. 
 Which meant that Frankie herself was nearly worthless. 
 It was a bad, inconsequential feeling, and every word of every email Frankie had sent to Porter had been fighting against it. She had made him apologize in more ways than one, had flung neglected positives at him, criticized his grammar -- and made him wait for her to accept his invitation. All because of how bad she felt when she remembered how little she'd mattered to him." (p. 137-138) 
 "She felt like she never got him alone. Felt like she was always in his world and he was never in hers. And here was evidence: that no matter how hard she pushed herself into his world -- heck, she was running whole sections of his life at this point, not that he knew -- no matter how hard she pushed her way in, he could always close a door on her." (p. 278)