XL

I woke up to the smell of fear.
 
You know what fear smells like? When you re not quite five feet tall? And turning sixteen?
 
Cake.
 
Maybe that s just me.
 
For normal people, birthdays--the cake, the singing, another candle every year--signify impending adulthood, which is so exciting, you actually appreciate the lame-assery that comes attached. But for us Smalls, birthdays never lose that paper-hat vibe . . . because that s all there is to them. Seeing your name in baby-blue frosting, year after year, from the same exact altitude--well, it has a way of shaming your testicles right back to where they descended from. In my crazier moments, I used to think the parties themselves were keeping me small. Which is why I d come to dread the sound of two little words:
 
Will! Breakfast!
 
My dad is such an awful actor, it s almost charming. He s just too straightforward by nature. His inability to fake anything--it makes him a great dad. Makes him a natural with zoo animals, too--zoo animals like a straight talker--so that works out well for him professionally, as a zookeeper. But it makes him just awful at surprise parties. Will! Breakfast! was something my father said precisely once a year. On my birthday. My big day. My big, smoking crater of a day. I woke up, smelled cake, and thought, Oh, God, no.
 
Which is kind of a shitty thing to think when a cake s been baked for you.
 
But consider this: a birthday s a promise. Something changes today! By birthday the sixteenth, I d discovered otherwise. Every promise had been broken, five promises running, because biology, God bless, can be a real dick sometimes.
 
So I stalled in bed. Faked a sleep-in for a precious half hour. Any longer, and masturbation would be suspected. This birthday, like all the rest, just needed to happen as quickly as possible, then vanish again. So I could vanish again.
 
That was my top-ranked fantasy on the

Scott Brown grew up in Durham, North Carolina, and began his career in journalism writing for Entertainment Weekly, Wired, GQ, and Time, among others. He was chief drama critic for New York Magazine from 2010 to 2014, and received the 2013-2013 George Jean Nathan Award for Dramatic Criticism. Lately, he's written a lot of TV: HBO's Sharp Objects, based on the novel by Gillian Flynn; WGN's critically acclaimed Manhattan, and the Stephen-King-derived suspenser Castle Rock for Hulu, for which he received a 2018 Writers Guild Award.

Scott also co-wrote the book for Beetlejuice the Musical (with Emmy-nominated writer-producer Anthony King) for Warner Bros. Theatricals. Also with King, he co-wrote and co-composed the off-Broadway musical comedy Gutenberg! The Musical! Off the clock, Scott likes to play piano, hang out with his kids, and scream back at the car radio. He lives in Massachusetts. Learn more about Scott on Twitter at @scottabridged.

A witty, remarkable tale of friendship, acceptance, and, yes, growth that will charm adults as well as younger readers. Outsized in heart and humanity, XL is a YA novel that s destined to become a classic. GILLIAN FLYNN, bestselling author of Gone Girl and Sharp Objects

This book is a twirling, swirling attack on insecurity that reminded me how hard it is to grow up. This book is so good, I want to punch Scott Brown in the face, which I know is extra horrible, since I am much taller. JOEL STEIN, humanitarian and author of Man Made: A Stupid Quest for Masculinity

It s a cliché to say I couldn t put this book down, but it s also the truth. With a heart as big as its protagonist, and a voice as hilarious as it is poignant, XL is an exceptional YA debut. JENNIFER E. SMITH, bestselling author of The Statistical Probability of Love at First Sight and Field Notes on Love

XL is going to be huge! It s about the giant risks we take for our first love, the ways in which growing up sometimes feels like it happens to us, instead of by us, and how we all must learn to understand our own strength. I loved Will Daughtry at every height. You will too. JULIE BUXBAUM, New York Times bestselling author of Tell Me Three Things and Hope and Other Punchlines