Ride

<p><strong>How far can you fall before you stop calling it a phase-and start calling it who you are?</strong></p><p></p><p><span style=color: rgba(0 0 0 1)>Troy moves through life with a kind of careless momentum-parties drugs sex and violence blurring into one long escape from consequence. Detached and self-aware he understands the damage he causes but refuses to stop convincing himself that nothing really matters.</span></p><p></p><p><span style=color: rgba(0 0 0 1)>As friendships fracture family life deteriorates and a second abortion forces him to confront the reality he's been avoiding Troy doubles down on the only thing he knows: self-destruction.</span></p><p></p><p><span style=color: rgba(0 0 0 1)>Set in a world of suburban restlessness and emotional disconnection </span><em style=color: rgba(0 0 0 1)>Ride</em><span style=color: rgba(0 0 0 1)> is a stark exploration of youth without direction-where meaning is optional and consequences are inevitable.</span></p><p></p><p><span style=color: rgba(0 0 0 1)>Blending the raw immediacy of transgressive fiction with the introspection of literary psychological drama Andrew Lafleche delivers a novel that is as unsettling as it is compulsively readable.</span></p><p></p><p><span style=color: rgba(0 0 0 1)>This is not a story about growing up.</span></p><p></p><p><span style=color: rgba(0 0 0 1)>It's about what happens when you don't.</span></p>