My reputation for sluttiness is only partially deserved. Yeah, I was kissing that guy from St. Jude’s, sure, and then I kissed that guy Zack, who maybe was a friend of Jessica Lauter’s, but mentioned being president of his GSA, so I don’t think he was there with her. Although, maybe, I guess? I didn’t ask.
Okay, first things first: although the word choice here strongly indicates—at least for a certain older segment of the public—that “Jack” is the offspring of parents who refused to truck with established gender conventions when it comes to naming kids, he is not the cool chick with a boy’s name. Or transgender. Jack is a biological Jack: a boy born with a penis who kept it and enjoys using it. So, just in case you might part of that segment of the readership that only associates “sluttiness” with girls, well, welcome to the 21st century. There’s probably an emoji for that, but not everything about the 21st century is cool, right? The Jack of the title is promiscuously gay and, clearly, unapologetic. Get used to it and then, if necessary, get over it, because that’s the whole story here.
Dear Jack of Hearts,
I think I’m finally ready to come out. I’ve known I’m into guys for a while now, but I just haven’t wanted to deal with it. It seems like it has to be such an event—an announcement on Instagram or Snapchat that everyone likes and comments how proud of you they are, or, like, a party where you tell everyone. I don’t want it to be a big deal. I don’t want people to think I’m different. I just want to start asking boys out.
Obviously, there is not actually a person whose name is, well, that. Turns out that Jack is not just unapologetic about his promiscuous homosexuality—or should that be homosexual promiscuity—but he wants to share the wisdom he has gained through such activity. And that wisdom is shared through the platform of an advice to the lovelorn. Or, if not quite lovelorn, something, anyway. Sometimes the questions get a little more racy than this one would suggest. In fact, a few of the letters get more than racy and does the novel as a whole. Note that this novel is directed toward a younger readership, but is quite explicit about sexuality and drops F-bombs so much that they are closer to F-rainfall. That said, the language and situations that might bother some people are not there for the shock value. Although some might not see it as such, the novel is seeking to offer a positive message to readers on the fringes who might not necessarily be overexposed to positive messaging.
Jack,
Spying isn’t very nice. You can see me when I say so. But a camera? Without consent. You should know better. Perv. That’s why I had to cut your coat. It was a nice coat. My scissors went through it real smoothly. I saw you buy it. I how you love it. But you should just love ME.
Another letter, but this time not to Jack of Hearts, but simply Jack himself. Some might call the unknown letter writer a secret admirer. Except that, well, secret admirers don’t generally write about cutting the beloved coats of the object of their affection. Well, actually many do, but by that point they have made the transition from secret admirer to stalker. And it would appear that a stalker is exactly what Jack has on his hands. The letter ends quite ominously: “I might cut more than a jacket next time.”
