Cover reveal! With its clever snark and searing perspective, Cancelled is a funny, fearless novel about the realistic pitfalls and unforgettable moments high school has to offer, perfect for fans of Jenny Han and Emma Lord. Coming to shelves March 19, 2024.

Not to brag, but Brynn Whittaker is basically killing her senior year. She’s got the looks, the grades, and a thriving “flirt coach” business that will help pay for her ultimate dream school: Stanford University. 

But when a highly incriminating video goes viral after the first rager of the year, Brynn finds herself at the center of a school-wide scandal of catastrophic proportions. She knows she’s not the girl in the video hooking up with her former best friend’s boyfriend (While wearing a banana costume, no less. Hey, points for style), but adding that to her reputation of being a serial dater, she quickly starts losing friends and customers. On top of that, the scorn she receives exposes the culture of misogyny that is rampant at her school . . . and Brynn and her three best friends are determined to take down all the haters. 

But as she gets closer to identifying the person in the video that got her cancelled, Brynn must decide—is exposing the girl worth losing everything she’s worked so hard for?

This witty, unapologetic novel by Farrah Penn boldly tackles the problematic double standards that seek to bring girls down, and shines a light on the loving, uplifting friendships that can help them make it through those brutal four years.

Scroll down to see the cover and read a sneak peek, and don’t forget to preorder your copy.

Cover art by Sadie Lewandowski, cover design by Kelley Brady

“Someone sent a video of Duncan Rowe and . . . someone else to the entire senior class this morning. Everyone thinks it’s you because the other person in the video was wearing the banana costume,” Tahlia says in one breath, like ripping off a Band-Aid. She immediately follows this by handing me the Frappuccino.

The drink is slick with condensation. I nearly lose my grip due to my current state of shock. My heart drops. Other than spotting him in the kitchen at Keith’s, I had zero interaction with Duncan Rowe last night. And I’m not trying to be messy. He’s in a committed relationship with my ex-BFF. I am very aware of this. 

But if it wasn’t me, then who? Because as far as I know, I was the only one dressed as a banana at Keith’s party last night. Apparently what I imagined would be hee-hee-ha-ha funny was fated to be phallic in a way I had not intended.

“The video was spread around on Snapchat,” Marlowe explains, her green eyes full of sympathy.

I quickly check Snapchat, but there aren’t any unopened messages. Whoever is circulating the video didn’t send it to me.

“It’s not like anyone can save it, right?” Tahlia says. “But I swear, this will blow over—”

Marlowe gives her an incredulous look. “Blow over?”

“Poor word choice,” Tahlia amends. “It’ll pass. And obviously we know it wasn’t you—Duncan knows it wasn’t you. So, you know, he can clear it up.”

I’m overheating. I want to crawl out of my skin and make this whole situation somebody else’s problem. Why would someone do this? Because of the way I’d handled things with Otto? As far as breakups go, it wasn’t bad. Only—he was a little upset, wasn’t he? But not enough to actively ruin my life.

“You both opened the video?”

They nod, giving me compassionate stares.

“We didn’t know what it was when it came through,” Tahlia explains.

“It looked like it was taken through a crack in the door, and it was only, like, five seconds,” Marlowe continues. “Nobody knows the user behind the Snapchat account. It’s already deactivated. You could see the banana suit but not the face of the person inside of it.”

I open the lid to my Starbucks cup and scoop up a heaping amount of whipped cream with my two fingers. I do this until it’s gone, pacing back and forth.

Who would think it’s okay to share something like that? As—what? Some kind of blackmail against Duncan? Did he do something to piss someone off? It doesn’t make sense. If he’s happy with Lenora, he wouldn’t want this to get out. So maybe he doesn’t know who sent it.

I stop pacing. “You guys know it wasn’t me.”

“Duh,” Marlowe says.

“But it’s weird,” Tahlia looks at me. “Who else had the same costume as you?”

That’s when it hits me.

Most students were at the Halloween dance, and a majority of the senior class came to Keith’s after-party. They saw me in that costume. They know Lenora and I aren’t friends anymore. Why she’s spent so long hating me.

I’m going to look like the guilty party.

I set my drink down. How many of my classmates received that video? Have opened that video? They’ll believe it’s me. And if word about my breakup with Otto has gotten around, they’ll assume I ended things and hooked up with my ex–best friend’s boyfriend the same night.

I feel sick. This is a colossal nightmare.

Until my name is cleared, I’m screwed. Ruined. I will absolutely be the most hated person at school.  

A dozen more pings chime from my phone in rapid succession.

Scratch that. I already am.