Julie Halpern writes about illness, loss, love, and friendship with candor and compassion. The F- It List is an unforgettable young adult novel about living fully, living authentically, and just . . . living. Alex and Becca have always been best friends. But when Becca does something nearly unforgivable at Alex's dad's funeral, Alex cuts ties with her and focuses on her grieving family. Time passes, and Alex finally decides to forgive Becca. Then she's hit with another shocker: Becca has cancer. It also turns out Becca has a bucket list, one she doesn't know she'll be able to finish now. That's where Alex comes in, along with a mysterious and guarded boy who just may help Alex check a few items off her own bucket list. “Alex's voice is a strong one, and fans of Halpern's Get Well Soon (2007) and Have a Nice Day (2012) will embrace it.” ― Booklist “A memorable novel about a rock-solid friendship surviving trying circumstances that never loses its sense of humor.” ― Publishers Weekly “Incredibly personal, deeply emotional, and more than just a little bit sexy, The F-It List is a spectacular contemporary read.” ― The Book Muncher “ The F-It List is a dazzling novel full of spirit and laugh out loud moments.” ― BookYAReview “It would be a shame to miss out on this engaging story of grief, friendship, and love.” ― Super Librarian “Readers will cheer for Anna as she gains confidence in herself, dares to rebel a little, and gets well as she goes back to her life.” ― VOYA on 'Get Well Soon' “ . . . laugh-out-loud funny and immensely intelligent.” ― Kirkus, starred review on Have a Nice Day Julie Halpern is the author of several books for young adults, including Meant to Be , Get Well Soon , and The F-It List ; the adult novel Maternity Leave ; and the picture book Toby and the Snowflakes . Prior to her life as a full-time mom and author, Julie was a school librarian. In her imaginary spare time, she enjoys traveling, watching television for grown-ups, and eating baked goods. Julie lives in the Chicago suburbs with her husband, Caldecott-winning author and illustrator Matthew Cordell, and their two children. CHAPTER 1 THE ONLY THING WORSE than having my best friend sleep with my boyfriend the night of my father’s funeral would be if she killed my dad herself. Becca didn’t, which was the one thing that redeemed her. Still, I allowed myself the entire summer after the trampful event to be mad at her. It’s not as though I haven’t done shitty things to Becca. In third grade, I announced in front of our whole class that she would never make the lead in the school play because she had boy hair. Which she did. Kind of forward-thinking of her for a third grader, although it was probably her mom’s choice after the Lice Crisis of Room 143. In junior high I managed to leak the fact that she stuffed her bra when a tuft of tissues fell out of her shirt, and I yelled down the hall, “Becca! I think one of your boobs fell out!” And just last year, even though I swore everyone already knew, I let slip that she lost her virginity to her second cousin the night of her Bat Mitzvah. All of the above seemed unforgivable at the times of occurrence, and yet she forgave me. Just like I forgave her for stealing my thunder as Mary Todd Lincoln in the fourth-grade play by accepting the lead male role of Honest Abe. After that, the entire play went drag, and Becca was hailed the class comedian. I quickly learned I preferred being behind the scenes, anyway. I also forgave the time she announced I had my period in sixth grade by asking in front of the alpha girls if that’s why I took so long in the bathroom. And the time freshman year when she accidentally shredded my twelve-page English essay because she thought they were pages of my pathetic attempt at a vampire novel she needed to rid the world of. Best friends forgive each other. And I knew I’d forgive her for screwing Davis. Eventually. It’s not like he was my one true love or anything. We had only gone out for a month before my dad was killed in a cab on his way home from the airport. Davis and I didn’t talk until two days after the news of my dad went around. I had to call him to get some sympathy. Maybe if I’d had sex with him, he would have called sooner. But there was something about him that turned me off. He was always listening to misogynistic rap songs with ridiculous lyrics, like, “With my nuts on your tonsils.” “Sick.” I reacted to the lyrics. “What?” he asked incredulously. He was always incredulous. “Dude, that’s like me saying, ‘With my ovaries on your uvula.’” “Is my uvula near my johnson?” It wasn’t worth an answer. It was just one of those lazy boyfriend situations because I was bored while Becca was off starring in the school musical, and Davis was always around. Plus, he had a car. At first, his long, wavy hair and busted-up knuckles from working his dad’s deck-sanding business were a turn-on. But the thought of his nuts on my tons