The Last Boy at St. Edith's

The Last Boy at St. Edith's

by Lee Gjertsen Malone

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Overview

The Last Boy at St. Edith's by Lee Gjertsen Malone

A seventh grade prankster is determined to escape the all-girls academy where he’s the only boy—by getting expelled—in this “spectacular debut” (Kirkus Reviews) that’s perfect for “fans of Jerry Spinelli’s Crash and Loser” (Booklist).

Seventh grader Jeremy Miner has a girl problem. Or, more accurately, a girls problem. 475 of them to be exact. That’s how many girls attend his school, St. Edith’s Academy.

Jeremy is the only boy left after the school’s brief experiment in co-education. And he needs to get out. But his mother—a teacher at the school—won’t let him transfer, so Jeremy takes matters into his own hands: he’s going to get expelled.

Together with his best friend Claudia, Jeremy unleashes a series of hilarious pranks in hopes that he’ll get kicked out with minimal damage to his permanent record. But when his stunts start to backfire, Jeremy has to decide how far he’s willing to go and whom he’s willing to knock down to get out the door.

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781481444361
Publisher: Aladdin
Publication date: 04/18/2017
Series: Aladdin MAX Series
Edition description: Reprint
Pages: 272
Sales rank: 493,380
Product dimensions: 5.10(w) x 7.60(h) x 0.80(d)
Lexile: 780L (what's this?)
Age Range: 9 - 12 Years

About the Author

Lee Gjertsen Malone is a Massachusetts transplant via Long Island, Brooklyn, and Ithaca, New York. As a journalist she’s written about everything from wedding planning to the banking crisis to how to build your own homemade camera satellite. Her interests include amateur cheese making, traveling, associating with animals, shushing people in movie theaters, kickboxing, and blinking very rapidly for no reason. She lives in Cambridge, Massachusetts, with her husband, daughter, and a rotating cast of pets.

Read an Excerpt

The Last Boy at St. Edith’s


  • IT WAS THE THIRD DAY of the ninth week of school when Jeremy Miner decided to get kicked out of seventh grade.

    He’d been sitting on a school bus waiting to go to MacArthur Prep to cheer on his sister Rachel and the rest of the St. Edith’s championship volleyball team. He’d been late, one of the last people on the bus, which meant he had to sit up front behind Mr. Reynolds.

    Jeremy probably should have liked Mr. Reynolds more than he did. Reynolds was the language arts teacher, and Jeremy loved to read, not to mention he was the only male teacher at the school and the faculty advisor of the Film Club, Jeremy’s favorite after-school activity.

    But there was something irritating about Reynolds. Maybe it was the fussy way he laid his finger next to his mouth when he was listening to a student, or how he called Jeremy “Mr. Miner” with such overpronounced emphasis on the “Mr.” that the girls in the back of the class would titter.

    The driver was starting to close the door when Claudia darted onto the bus and slid into the seat next to Jeremy, the yard of ball chain wrapped around her neck and wrists looking like armor in contrast to the shredded pink tights she wore under her plaid skirt.

    “Did you hear?” she hissed.

    Claudia Hoffmann was one of Jeremy’s best friends. She was a year older than everyone else in their grade because her mother was Italian and her father was German and they’d lived in London, New Zealand, and Hong Kong when she was little. Somewhere along the way she missed a year of school. Claudia sometimes took the extra year as permission to dominate everyone else. (Not that she actually needed permission to do what she wanted most of the time.)

    “No, what?”

    “Andrew Marks transferred to Hereford Country Day.”

    Jeremy let out a long breath and slumped down in his seat. “Oh no.”

    Jeremy hadn’t particularly liked Andrew—nobody did—he brushed his teeth only about once a week, for one, and he talked about the Boston Red Sox far more than any one person should ever talk about anything. Andrew was the kind of guy Jeremy’s mom always said he should “make an effort with” and “try to get to know better.” But Jeremy figured that probably meant spending more time with Andrew, and since the time they spent together as the sole members of the boys’ tennis team was already pretty tedious, he couldn’t see how hanging out even more would improve things.

    But Andrew did have one redeeming quality—he was male.

    Because Jeremy had a girl problem. Or, more accurately, a girls problem. Four hundred and seventy-five of them, including his older sister, Rachel, who was in the eighth grade, and his younger sister, Jane, who was in fourth. That’s how many girls went to St. Edith’s Academy.

    At home it was just his mom and his sisters. Jeremy’s dad was off saving the oceans in his solar-powered research boat. And now the only other boy in school had thrown in the towel, a day Jeremy had dreaded for two whole years.

    “Why’d he transfer now?” Jeremy demanded, loud enough that Reynolds’s head poked up over the seat. He lowered his voice. “Why not over the summer?”

    “I guess he was on a waiting list?” Claudia said. “Or maybe he came back and everybody else was gone and he decided to bail. Who knows? Andrew Marks is a moron.”

    “You only say that because he never wanted to be in your movies.”

    “No,” she said, cocking her head. “I say that because it’s undeniably true. He likes bad rap and professional wrestling. But that’s not the issue.”

    “You bet that’s not the issue. Besides, lots of boys like stuff like that—”

    “You don’t,” she said.

    He ignored the interruption. He was used to them with Claudia. “The point is now I’m the last boy in the whole entire school.”

    Jeremy had a list, buried deep in his desk drawer at home. Twenty-six names. A list of all the boys who had attended St. Edith’s. He’d made it in fifth grade, when they’d all pledged to transfer or get kicked out.

    He’d vowed not to be the last one. Over the years he’d added a number to each of their names as they left, counting down, one by one, from twenty-six, every time swearing he would be next. But now his list was down to number two, Andrew Marks. And there was only one name left: Jeremy’s.

    It was never supposed to come to this. He’d always hoped that his mom would let him transfer, or that some of the other boys would hang on until the end of eighth grade. Being one of a few boys, even if he didn’t especially like any of them, was manageable. Being the only boy was something else entirely.

    St. Edith’s was what you might call a failed experiment. Founded in 1879 as an all-girls school—the words ACADEMY FOR GIRLS were still carved in the limestone above the imposing front doors—but faced with declining admissions, the board of trustees had decided to start admitting boys right before Jeremy was old enough for first grade.

    But few boys ever wanted to attend. The school had a long-standing reputation as a staid and chaste academy for girls that no amount of rebranding could change. And the failure to attract male students meant boys’ sports suffered, which made it even harder to convince boys to come.

    In a last-ditch effort, the trustees added a football team as a way to attract boys who wanted to play but perhaps would not have made the team at other, more sports-savvy schools. The problem was a football team needed thirty or forty kids to be really viable, and there were only fifty-two boys in the whole school, with only about twenty old enough to play.

    So, in a controversial move that was infamous in the annals of western Massachusetts private schools, the trustees decided to make football mandatory.

    Mandatory football was a disaster right from the start.

    They didn’t call it that, of course. They called it “Fulfilling the physical education requirement through team sport,” and they made all the girls play on teams too, to make it fair. But it basically meant mandatory football for all the boys in seventh and eighth grade.

    The football coach was Ms. Brewster, who also coached the badminton and lacrosse teams and seemed to think the only differences in football were the shape of the ball and a little bit of tackling. This was a catastrophic error, as seen in the team’s first game against coed MacArthur Prep.

    Tiny seventy-five-pound seventh graders were crushed by onrushing linebackers. A boy who had never run for anything, not even a bus, collapsed, wheezing, in the end zone. And James McPhee, whose family had emigrated from Ireland and who was under the impression he was learning to play a slightly more physical version of soccer, saw the line of broad-shouldered players from the other team steaming down the field toward him, turned, and ran off, never to be heard from again.

    Their team name—the Amazons—didn’t help either.

    Jeremy was only in fourth grade at the time, so he wasn’t forced to play. Instead he stood dumbly on the sidelines, holding his embarrassing French horn, and prayed they would cancel mandatory football before he was old enough to join the team.

    He got his wish.

    Boys complained and convinced their parents to transfer them to one of the many other successful coed or all-boys schools in the area, and a few short years after it first added boys, right before Jeremy started fifth grade, St. Edith’s gave up and went back to being all-girls. The school would allow the existing boys who attended to continue on and graduate but would admit no more.

    Prep Confidential—the private-school insider blog all students read religiously—had a field day.

    The Con, as it was called, was never a fan of St. Edith’s, which it called St. Dither’s Nunnery and reviewed as a school for “girls whose parents want to give them an education in the most charmless and fun-free setting possible,” noting “what passes for excitement at St. Dither’s would count as detention at other schools.”

    After the attempt to turn coed, the blog became even more vicious, writing “for the misguided few boys who wanted to attend this dour institution, the single season of mandatory football killed that desire, along with, for many, the will to live.”

    The parents and teachers—including the newly installed post-football-debacle director, Ms. Powell—said not to take what the Con wrote so seriously.

    “Everybody knows the people who write those reviews aren’t basing their findings on actual facts,” Jeremy’s mother said. “And who cares what a website says, anyway? The teachers are just as good at St. Edith’s as anywhere else, and that’s the only thing that’s important.”

    Of course, it wasn’t the only thing that was important, not by a long shot, and every time the Con wrote about St. Edith’s, enrollment fell and more students transferred. Especially boys.

    In fact, right after the decision to go back to all-girls status there had been a mass exodus of almost every remaining male, except for a hardy few who, by fate or circumstance, were forced to remain: Jeremy’s list of twenty-six.

    It had been pointless to hope that these same souls would hang on until graduation. The truth had been dawning since the first day of school when Jeremy discovered that over the summer even Carson Johnson and Elijah Rosen (number three and number four, respectively) had both transferred, leaving just Jeremy and smelly Andrew Marks.

    And now just Jeremy.

    He glanced around the bus, where, as usual, he and the teacher were the only people with a Y chromosome. “I’m going to spend the rest of my life surrounded by girls.”

    “You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Claudia said with a fake glare. “Why do you even want to go to school with boys? You weren’t friends with most of the boys who went here, anyway.”

    She had a point. Even back when there were a couple dozen boys in the school, he had mainly hung out with Claudia and her crowd. Really, he hadn’t had a guy friend since fifth grade, when Miles Portman (number twenty) moved to Minnesota. But somehow it was different when they were younger. Hanging out with only girls wasn’t a problem when they were still little kids.

    It was only lately he’d really begun to notice.

    “It’s not just about friends,” he said. “Though I think if I had half the school to choose from I might actually meet some guys I liked. It’s more about not wanting to stand out so much. Having a . . . buffer zone.”

    “A buffer zone?” Claudia asked with a quizzical look.

    “Something to stand between me and being a total freak of nature.” He paused, then pressed on. “But it’s not just that. What about getting to do things boys do? Having a boys’ bathroom instead of being forced to use the one in the office. And what about the tennis team? It’s the only sport I actually like. How can we have a team with only one player? Barely anybody wanted to play against us when it was just Andrew and me.”

    There were so many reasons he felt out of place at St. Edith’s. Always having to draw girls in art, because those were the only models—and the girls making faces at his drawings, either in mockery or disgust. Not to mention talking about the endless list of topics the girls insisted on in health class while he put his fingers in his ears and hummed. Or being forced to play field hockey in gym. “Men play field hockey all over the world!” Miss Carter, the gym teacher, liked to say whenever she brought out the equipment. “Australia, India, England—everywhere.”

    “But not here,” Jeremy always grumbled. It was a constant reminder he didn’t belong at St. Edith’s, learning a sport most people played in skirts. What people like Claudia didn’t understand was that all he really wanted was to be a regular guy, someone who fit in.

    She gave him a sympathetic shrug, but even she didn’t have an answer.

    A few moments later the bus turned down the long drive leading to the impressive facade of MacArthur Prep, the fiercest rival of St. Edith’s. Well, in girls’ sports. Because unlike Jeremy’s school, MacArthur was coed. And events at coed schools were always the worst.

    But he had to go to the game; his sister was the star of the team. The financial aid director at St. Edith’s had already confided in Jeremy’s mom that she expected “lots of interest” from high schools who wanted a student like Rachel, with top-notch grades and the potential to be all-American in volleyball and field hockey. And lots of interest meant lots of scholarships, which was the only way Rachel would get to go to any of those places, Jeremy knew.

    As they made their way into the gym and onto the bleachers, he stayed deep within a gang of St. Edith’s girls. Once Reynolds and the other teachers were distracted, he slipped off his telltale baby-blue-and-pale-yellow plaid school tie and stuffed it into his pocket. Not that he’d be getting up at all during the game—he knew better than to leave his seat.

    The last time he got up at one of Rachel’s volleyball games, last year, he and David Somers (number eleven) had been cornered by a couple of kids in the bathroom who told them they should be using the girls’ room instead and, for good measure, escorted David down the hall and stuck his face in one of the girls’ toilets. He transferred out two days later.

    This time Jeremy went in with a plan: Lie low, stay in the middle of the pack, and attract as little attention as possible.

    And it seemed to work. At least until the third set.

    “You love those Batman movies, but you know what drives me crazy?” Claudia was saying. She wasn’t even pretending to watch the match. “Bruce Wayne is a really famous rich guy! Everybody knows who he is. So how can he just fake his death, skip town, and go hang out in a café in Paris? It would be like Elvis showing up for the breakfast special at Denny’s in Daytona Beach. Don’t you think at least someone would notice? Don’t they have paparazzi in Gotham City?”

    “Hey, look,” a boy’s voice called from a few rows away. “Is it just me, or are the St. Edith’s girls getting uglier? That one looks like a dude.” It was one of the MacArthur Prep boys, and his voice was loud enough that everyone in their section looked over. Too loud, really, to be anything but trouble.

    “Ha-ha, you’re hilarious,” Claudia said in the direction of the voice.

    The speaker was sitting with a whole gang of boys, all wearing the same sharp-looking navy blazers and gray pants that marked them as going to MacArthur and made Jeremy glad he’d taken off his ugly pastel tie.

    He poked Claudia with his elbow to get her to shut up and pretended to be completely captivated by the action on the volleyball court.

    But he heard rustling and grumbling down the row as the loud boy shoved his way past the plaid-covered St. Edith’s knees and squeezed in right between Jeremy and Claudia. He threw a large arm around Jeremy’s shoulders, like they were friends, but the weight of it sent a current of panic down Jeremy’s spine.

    “So, tell me, what’s it like being a boy at a girls’ school?” the boy said in a low voice, too close to Jeremy’s face. His breath was a gag-inducing combination of old milk and Doritos. “Are you turning into one yet?”

    Jeremy laughed like the kid was joking, even though he clearly wasn’t. Around him the girls tittered into their hands and moved away, all except Claudia, who was widening her eyes at Jeremy like she was trying to communicate with him telepathically.

    “Do you think I’m funny?” the guy said, suddenly way more affronted than he could possibly really be. “Do you want to start something with me? Do you have something to prove, lady boy? Because if you want to start something, let’s do it. Come on outside, and we’ll see how funny I am.”

    Jeremy squirmed. “No, I just . . .”

    The guy leaned back and spread his knees wide, taking up enough bleacher for two people. “A guy like you, surrounded by all these chicks,” he said with a smirk. “What a waste. If it was me, I’d have them eating out of my hand.”

    There was some grumbling from the girls and another pointed look from Claudia. Jeremy felt ill. Attracting attention at a place like this was the last thing he wanted.

    The boy snorted. “I bet you don’t even have a girlfriend.”

    Jeremy winced. It’s not like he actually wanted a girlfriend; he had enough problems dealing with girls just as friends and classmates. But it wasn’t the sort of thing you wanted someone to say out loud in front of half the school.

    “I bet you’re too busy painting your toenails and watching, like, Frozen with your lady friends,” the boy continued with an ugly little smile at Claudia, who looked like she was holding her breath to keep from exploding. Jeremy wasn’t sure if it was because she was aching to defend her friend against this bully or because he had accused her of liking a Disney film.

    And now the boy was looking at him like he expected Jeremy to say something back. Jeremy gulped. He had no idea how to respond to a guy like this. It was cold in the gym, but sweat formed on the back of Jeremy’s neck as the boy kept smiling at him in a really unfriendly way. Jeremy could think of a million wrong things to say but nothing that could possibly make this boy leave him alone.

    And the seconds ticked by.

    Then one of the other boys called from down the row, “Mike, let’s go, I want a soda.”

    The boy named Mike smiled at Jeremy and stood. “Looks like it’s your lucky day. I’ve got to go. Besides, my dad always told me I shouldn’t hit a girl.”

    Claudia made a face at his retreating back. “Guys like that make me eternally grateful I go to an all-girls school.”

    “Hey!” Jeremy said, even though he was still trying to force his breathing back to normal. He knew the boy wouldn’t have done anything really bad with all the teachers around, but he was still rattled. It was always like this with boys who went to normal schools.

    “I kid, I kid. But at least I got an actual reaction from you.” She gave him a piercing look. “Seriously, why didn’t you say something? Instead of just . . . sitting there.”

    “Great, why don’t you try and make me feel even more horrible?” he said. “Especially since it’s just going to get worse now that Andrew’s gone. I’m lucky I’m not spending the rest of the match with my head in a toilet.”

    The next two years spread out ahead of him, a series of unrelenting humiliations. No more boys’ teams to play on. The only boy in yellow and baby blue at sporting events. The only boy on their side of the gym at those ridiculous dances his friends claimed were lame but always wanted to attend. The only boy at graduation, the only boy at every party and in every class play.

    The only boy, anywhere and everywhere, standing out like a sore thumb. For what felt like the rest of his life.

    And the worst part was, lately he was beginning to wonder what it meant to be, if not a man, then a guy who was going to be one someday. How did you even figure that out when you were surrounded by girls all the time? From movies? Even an orphan like Luke Skywalker had Uncle Owen to look up to. As for real life, he wasn’t clueless enough to aspire to be like the guys at MacArthur Prep, but it wasn’t like he had any other alternatives—even if he wanted to be a sensitive guy, how would he learn? His sensitive dad had skipped out years ago without leaving anything like a guidebook behind.

    “Okay. I get it. Your life stinks. So what do you plan to do about it?” Claudia asked.

    “That’s the problem,” Jeremy said, shaking his head. “I don’t know.”

  • Customer Reviews

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    The Last Boy at St. Edith's 4.9 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 10 reviews.
    Anonymous More than 1 year ago
    Good book really funny great for kids and adults
    Anonymous More than 1 year ago
    I was lucky enough to receive an ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review. This book was so much fun! When Jeremy becomes the last boy at St. Edith's, he and his friend Claudia decide to pull a bunch of pranks to get him kicked out. Of course things don't go as planned. Duh, duh, duh . . . The characters really made this book. They are so spot on for middle graders. I loved the friendship between Jeremy and Claudia. I loved the awkwardness between Jeremy and Anna. The horrors of a parent dating your teacher! The pranks. I cringed at Jeremy's cluelessness and his mis-steps. Not to mention Claudia's movie script. Oy! The author did such a great job at capturing the whole middle grade experience and all the justifications used when you feel life has dealt with you unfairly. This is definitely a book you don't want to miss!
    Anonymous More than 1 year ago
    The Last Boy at St. Edith’s is peopled with a rich, fabulously flawed, and funny cast of middle school characters. Jeremy, the LAST boy at a now all girls’ school, is surrounded by kids who seem to know exactly who they are. His friend Claudia is brash, passionate about film, and fearless. Emily is studious, quietly territorial, and whatever she’s afraid of, she keeps carefully hidden. But Jeremy flounders in St. Edith’s sea of baby blue plaid, struggling to know how he can learn to be a young man… when he’s surrounded by hundreds of girls. When Jeremy embarks on a crusade to get kicked out of St. Edith’s by pulling an escalating series of pranks, everything he cares about is put into peril. His friendships. His family. His integrity. The Last Boy at St. Edith’s delivers an entertaining prank driven plot while touching on issues of gender, fitting in, and messing up with deft and deadpan humor.
    KathyMacMillan More than 1 year ago
    Seventh-grader Jeremy finds himself in the unfortunate position of being the only male remains of a failed attempt by St. Edith's to go coed - and his mom won't let him transfer, because the only reason they can afford the school is the scholarship money she receives as an employee of St. Edith's. So Jeremy is determined to get himself expelled. And he knows just who to ask for help: his wild friend Claudia, mastermind of the school's Film Club and violator of every point of the school's dress code. Jeremy sets some guidelines for the pranks, though: no one can get hurt, and they can't steal or damage anything. (The image of Jeremy assiduously labeling each of the garden gnomes he steals with the addresses of their owners cracks me up.) But soon the pranks get out of hand, as pranks often do, and not only do property and people get hurt, but Jeremy's sister and her friends are blamed for his actions. When the big decisions have to be made, Jeremy starts to realize that maybe being the only boy in a sea of girls isn't so bad after all. Jeremy is a likeable, believable character. He's one of those boys who isn't particularly bothered to be surrounded by girls - but who feels like he ought to be. His friends are equally well-drawn, particularly Claudia, the bold prankster with a heart of gold, and Emily, the literal girl next door who's just waiting for Jeremy to notice how compatible they are. THE LAST BOY AT ST. EDITH'S is a middle grade read with lots of fun and lots of heart
    Anonymous More than 1 year ago
    This book is so many wonderful things rolled into one. Jeremy is the last boy at a school full of girls. The story is about him dealing with all the challenges this unique situation brings and exploring his friendships- the ones he has, the ones he's avoided, and the ones he's wishing for. I loved the interactions between the characters and the humor that's infused throughout the book. We get to go along with a character who is so sure of what he wants, but we also see the struggle as he tries to sort through what he's feeling. I loved the events that happen along the way, and how each one forces him to look at things a little bit differently. This is so well-written, heartwarming, fun, engaging, and funny. Kids (and adults) will relate to the characters and will want to keep turning the pages to see what happens next!
    QuinnenDonnelly More than 1 year ago
    Girls, girls, girls. No matter where he turns, Jeremy Miner is surrounded by them. At home, it’s mom and his two sisters. And then all day at school it’s . . . well, everyone. St. Edith’s Academy, a former all-girls school, made an effort to go co-ed, but there’s been a lot of attrition among their boy population and before Jeremy knows it, he’s the last one. The absolute last male student at St. Edith’s Academy. Yikes. Jeremy’s determined to do something about this situation, and he finds his solution in an unlikely place: a series of escalating pranks that he commits along with one of his best female (well, duh) friends at St. Edith’s, the spunky filmmaker Claudia. But as he seemingly gets closer to earning an expulsion from his school, Jeremy starts to second-guess his plan. Is the problem really St. Edith’s? Or could this place be where he really belongs? As the survivor of an all-girls education (okay, just high school, but still, that was intense!), I totally related to Jeremy. Being immersed in a sea of girls is not always easy. Sometimes, you just miss having close friends of both genders! Debut author Lee Gjertsen Malone’s novel is just plain fun. Jeremy is such a winsome protagonist, and I totally fell for his group of girl friends at St. Edith’s. Jeremy’s cluelessness about his friend/neighbor Emily’s crush on him was entirely realistic, and will especially ring true to middle school readers. (It was also heartbreakingly real for all us girls out there that totally found ourselves in Emily’s shoes at that age. ::Raises hand.::) There’s so much that Malone gets right about this fraught age, where the last thing you want is to be the one kid who stands out.
    SMParker More than 1 year ago
    No wonder Jeremy wants out of his school. He’s the last remaining boy. He’s literally surrounded by girls—at school, and at home. And what better way to get kicked out of school than pull some major pranks? The premise of this book is spectacular and the hijinks too adorable. Malone’s dialogue made me legit laugh out loud and her characters were so special and fully formed (even when they were being totally clueless). This MG debut flawlessly deals with issues of identity, first crushes, friendship, family and loyalty. Plus, it’s hilarious.
    Anonymous More than 1 year ago
    After a failed attempt to go co-ed, St. Edith's School has only one boy left, and that's our hero, Jeremy. Not thrilled to be the last boy standing, Jeremy is on a mission to get kicked out by executing outrageous pranks. This book is impeccably executed, engaging, funny, and smart. The middle school characters, particularly Jeremy, Claudia, and Emily, come alive on the page. The relationships between the characters are pitch perfect and entirely believable. The author has thought through every detail of these characters and their lives, and it's all there on the page, making the reading experience immersive, almost tangible. This is a fun, fast, thought-provoking read for both kids and adults.
    Anonymous More than 1 year ago
    Jeremy Miner is surrounded by girls. Girls at home, girls at school, girls everywhere. As the very last boy at St. Edith's, he is sick of girls. His mom is somewhat sympathetic but St. Edith's is a great school, and Jeremy gets to go there for free. So Jeremy decides to get kicked out with the help of his good friend Claudia. How? Pranks. The most epic pranks that St. Edith's has ever seen. This book was so fun and thought-provoking and great. I loved the inventive pranks (and kids are going to have such a fun time reading about them). What I loved most of all were the characters - especially Emily and Claudia, two of Jeremy's friends. What awesome girls! And that's what Jeremy doesn't realize - there are all these amazing young women around him. This novel is smart and would be great to use in a class for a novel study or lit group. So much great discussion could be had. I highly recommend you pick up The Last Boy at St. Edith's by Lee Gjertsen Malone! I loved it!
    KidlitFan2016 More than 1 year ago
    The Last Boy at St. Edith's is incredibly fun and funny, and full of heart. Through genuine and very relatable characters, the story raises questions about gender roles, while at the same time emphasizing the importance of authentic friendship. I laughed out loud throughout the book. The plot, which involves a series of hilarious pranks, is funny on its own. But add in the main character Jeremy's insecurities and cluelessness, and this is a book kids won't be able to resist!