✨ And to every girl who has ever been told that they’re too much, too loud, too sensitive, too difficult. You are everything you need to be. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

*4.25☆

📖 Recommended for fans of: • YA thrillers with an unusual setting • MCs trying to rebuild or escape their past • AGGTM & OOUIL • Workplace-centered mysteries

Greta Riley Green is not your typical YA heroine. She’s flawed, self-conscious, a little delulu (as my Kindle notes kept screaming), and desperate to reinvent herself after a humiliating incident the year before. She takes on a summer job at Hyper Kid Magic Land, a theme park that’s meant to be a new start — except it’s filled with secrets, eerie histories, and the kind of behind-the-scenes drama that could eat a person alive.

I immediately felt transported back to my own job as a ride operator in an indoor funfair. The uniforms, the walkie-talkies, the backstage chatter, colleague gossip and rumours, even the random guests doing ridiculous things. Veronica captures that chaos so vividly that I found it almost too relatable. It’s such a rare and brilliant setting for a YA mystery! Bright, loud, artificial happiness hiding something much darker underneath.

I’ll admit, the main plot doesn’t kick in right away. The first half leans more into worldbuilding, like letting us sink into the routines, gossip, and setting of Hyper Kid Magic Land before the actual mystery takes over. Personally, I didn’t mind it because the setting was so immersive, but it’s worth noting for readers expecting instant action. When the twist finally hits, though, it HITS. I genuinely didn’t see it coming and had to pause for a second like, “wait, WHAT?” Especially because I was convinced I’d figured it all out at 42%, to my disappointment. Turns out, Veronica played the long game and delivered a reveal that was far sharper than the easy one I thought was coming. I love that she took that risk.

Greta is messy, insecure, and constantly overthinks everything (one time I literally wrote, “you’re so insecure and overthinker, which to be fair I am too, but it is annoying here,” in the notes 😭). But that’s exactly what made her compelling. She’s not pretending to be a detective; she’s just a teenage girl trying to make sense of chaos. When her co-worker Mercy goes missing, Greta throws herself into uncovering the truth, and the more she digs, the more the park’s glossy façade cracks.

The mystery unfolds with a rhythm that feels part A Good Girl’s Guide to Murder, part workplace drama, part coming-of-age story. There’s the eerie link between Mercy’s disappearance and the twenty-year-old cold case of Hyper Kid performer Hailey Portman — a haunting overlap of stories where both girls’ lives and ambitions collide with the same toxic system. The tension builds slowly, pulls you in, and even when Greta’s logic falters, you understand why she’s so desperate to prove herself. She wants to be seen as someone worth keeping around, and the park becomes a stage for that craving. There’s a quiet ache in every chapter about wanting to be enough. Difficult Girls is witty and dark all at once, a clever mirror of the way performance and reality blur right inside Hyper Kid park.

I was just as invested in the relationships as I was in the mystery. The friendship between Greta and Ivy (who’s effortlessly confident and protective) felt like what girlhood solidarity looks like in an environment that constantly pits girls against each other. And then we have Liammmm. Sweet, nerdy, surprisingly grounded Liam Danilo Miramontes is the boy with fluffy hair (ngl, this sometimes seemed like his only trait because that description was definitely overused a bit) and a Filipino-Mexican background who stole my heart. His dynamic with Greta reminded me of the comfort you find in someone who just gets it. Lines like “I’ve got you” hit so differently because they’re quiet moments of safety in a world of suspicion. I was practically begging the book not to make him a red flag. He’s the steady heartbeat of this story, and it’s impossible not to root for him. Let’s just say he’s the “dealer” (iykyk) — the nerd I’ll defend forever 🫶. Together, the trio is a perfect example of the found-family trope done right.

Veronica Bane’s debut (!?) is absolutely worth the read. You can tell she once worked at a theme park herself; the details are too spot-on to be invented. Difficult Girls peels back the glitter and lights to show what’s underneath: ambition, loneliness, and above all, the courage it takes to start again.

Thank you to the author, Penguin Random House, and NetGalley for the ARC in exchange for my honest thoughts 💫