Award-winning author Susin Nielsen has written a laugh-out-loud and heartrending novel for fans of Robyn Schneider’s Extraordinary Means and Cammie McGovern’s Say What You Will .   Beware: Life ahead.   Sixteen-year-old Petula de Wilde is anything but wild. A former crafting fiend with a happy life, Petula shut herself off from the world after a family tragedy. She sees danger in all the ordinary things, like crossing the street, a bug bite, or a germy handshake. She knows: life is out to get you.   The worst part of her week is her comically lame mandatory art therapy class with a small group of fellow misfits. Then a new boy, Jacob, appears at school and in her therapy group. He seems so normal and confident, though he has a prosthetic arm; and soon he teams up with Petula on a hilarious project, gradually inspiring her to let go of some of her fears. But as the two grow closer, a hidden truth behind why he’s in the group threatens to derail them, unless Petula takes a huge risk. . . Praise: Bank Street Best Children’s Books of the Year “Nielsen writes with sensitivity, empathy, and humor.” — Kirkus Reviews, Starred   “Nielsen excels at depicting troubled, clever teenagers in familiar environments.” — School Library Journal, Starred  “[An] empathic and deeply moving story, balanced by sharply funny narration and dialogue.” — Publishers Weekly, Starred “A poignant exploration into the nuances of healing.” — Quill and Quire, Starred “Nielsen writes with sensitivity, empathy, and humor.” — Kirkus Reviews, Starred    “Nielsen excels at depicting troubled, clever teenagers in familiar environments.” — School Library Journal, Starred “Grief and guilt permeate Nielsen’s ( We Are All Made of Molecules ) empathic and deeply moving story, balanced by sharply funny narration and dialogue.” — Publishers Weekly, Starred “The dialogue is effortless, the plot moves at a fast pace, and the scenes come alive. . . . a poignant exploration into the nuances of healing.” — Quill and Quire, Starred “Heartbreaking and hopeful, this is a solid choice for readers looking for a book to make them cry and laugh at the same time.” — Booklist “Susin Nielsen once more brings readers a story that is infused with light-hearted humour, even as it touches on numerous weighty issues.” — Canadian Children's Book News "Here, as in Nielsen’s previous award-winning novels, her use of first-person narration is compellingly believable. The short chapters sprint by with sitcom pacing and snappy dialogue . . . This novel is about how good people can make mistakes and then learn to accept them."  -- Vancouver Sun Susin Nielsen got her start feeding cast and crew on the popular television series  Degrassi Junior High. They hated her food, but they saw a spark in her writing. Nielsen went on to pen sixteen episodes of the hit TV show. Since then she has written for many Canadian TV series. Nielsen’s first two young adult novels,  Word Nerd  and  Dear George Clooney: Please Marry My Mom,  won critical acclaim and multiple young readers’ choice awards.  The Reluctant Journal of Henry K. Larsen  won the prestigious Governor General’s Literary Award and the Canadian Library Association’s Children’s Book of the Year. Most recently, We Are All Made of Molecules was shortlisted for the Governor General’s Literary Award, longlisted for the Carnegie Medal, and nominated for the Canadian Library Association’s Children’s Book of the Year. Nielsen lives in Vancouver with her family and two extremely destructive cats. Visit her at susinnielsen.com; on Facebook at Susin Nielsen, Author; and on Twitter at @susinnielsen. 1   The first time I saw the Bionic Man I was covered in sparkles.     It was a typical Friday afternoon at Youth Art Therapy, YART for short. I was trying to help Ivan the Terrible with our latest, lamest project. As per usual, Ivan refused to focus. Instead he tipped a tube of rainbow glitter onto my head, all over my cat hat and all over me. Alonzo tutted sympathetically. Koula snorted with laughter. Another sunny day in paradise.   We were sitting in the common area of the counseling suite. It was always either Antarctica cold or Saudi Arabia hot. Even though it was early January, I’d stripped down to my tie-dyed tank top. Ivan started punching my bare arm with the very fingers that had, moments ago, been wedged up his nose. I reached into my tote bag for my bottle of hand sanitizer, just as one of the counselor’s doors opened.   Ivan glanced up. “Petula, look,” he said. “A giant.”   The Bionic Man was not a giant. But he was well over six feet. Everything about him was supersized. A bright orange parka was slung over one arm, which was major overkill for a Vancouver winter. He looked about my age, with a mass of curly brown hair, and big brown eyes that were red from crying.   The Bionic Man had stepped out of Carol Polachuk’s office. I’d sat in that soulless space many times myself, forced to talk to she o