#ReadWithMC (opens in new tab)-Welcome to Marie Claire's Virtual Book Club. It is a pleasure to meet you, and for the month of May we will be reading "All the Adults Are Here" (opens in a new tab), the latest novel by New York Times bestselling author Emma Straub (opens in a new tab). The novel is a heartwarming and entertaining look at the family life cycle from different perspectives. Read an excerpt and learn how to join the book club here (opens in a new tab). (Cecelia sat between her parents in the back seat of a cab that smelled like body odor soup. Amtrak required unaccompanied passengers between the ages of 13 and 15 to jump through a series of hoops. This arrangement was supposed to be fun, but Cecelia could see things for what they were. She was 13 and had access to the Internet. She was more or less in witness protection. The school did not expel her. It's like what they do on TV right before parents get divorced. Cecelia had said this almost in passing when she was discussing with her parents what to do and how to resolve the problem with the school. I think I'll move in with Gammy for a year. The next morning, however, her parents sat at the small kitchen table, their eyes bloodshot as if they hadn't moved since dinner the night before. Cecelia couldn't decide who she was most angry with. Her parents for pulling her down, or the school for making her pull it. It wasn't fair. In fact, it was the opposite of fair. Even if she had moved from a small apartment to a bigger house, it was an unfortunate situation. Any perks were far outweighed by the prospect of being crushed by apocalyptic failure and severe unfairness. But Cecelia had tried to explain it all a thousand times already. It's all over now.

"The Big House is best at the end of the summer. Cecelia's father, Nicholas Strick (Nicky Stricky), the baby of the family, ran away from the family home before his 18th birthday, returning only for holidays and special occasions that had been instilled with guilt for months. He was not a reliable source of information. The cab turned onto Flatbush Avenue and headed toward the Manhattan Bridge. Cecilia thought that if her father shaved his beard, cut the short, messy ponytail he always wore at the nape of his neck, and bought clothes that were not for ranchers or cowboys, he would be the handsomest father in the world. Instead, her father always looked like someone who could be handsome if he wanted to be, but his beard, clothes, and hairstyle were effective deterrents.

"She has really good taste and knows everybody," Juliette said. Cecelia's mother is French and knows how to have good taste. Juliette liked Astrid more than her husband. Maybe she liked Astrid more than her husband. There's a big, beautiful public pool, and the only reason you have to wait is because someone is late, not because there are a hundred people ahead of you," Juliette said. Krapam is a nice place. You always loved going there. Even when that house was like a toddler disaster, I was always afraid you would hit something and kill yourself. Anyway, you're better off in the country.

That didn't seem true, but Cecilia didn't want to argue. If it was, what the hell were her parents doing? They must have been depriving her blood of maximum oxygen for the past thirteen years. It's okay, really." Cecelia's suitcase was in the trunk. Together, Cecelia and her parents occupied every inch of the car like commuters on the F train during rush hour. [Juliette said as she slapped Cecelia's thigh. Juliet patted Cecelia's thigh. 'Okay,' she said. [Take the train with me and let's get settled.' Nicky had never volunteered to go to Krapam before. He rubbed his beard with his hand.

"Dad, it's okay. I'm just going to read 'Deathly Hallows' again. It's only two hours."

"Two bags, I hope you can manage." There is an escalator. Juliette was a dancer, strong and practical about her body. Those were good qualities for a mother. When Cecelia was a child, if she fell or hurt herself, Juliette would turn up the hem of her pants to show her daughter the scars. Cecelia tried to remember these things in order to reduce the life-size piñata of her parents that she constantly created in her mind. It wasn't her parents' fault, but it wasn't her fault either. But her parents were not the type to make a fuss. Her mother was a dancer who pretended not to smoke. Her father was a hippie who sold a bunch of sticks and crystals to young hippies on the Internet. Outside of the family, he was famous for his quinoa salad, trumpet farts, and humorous improvised songs, and he played a handsome high school student in the movie "The Life of Jake George," filmed when he was a handsome high school senior himself. He became a Buddhist and spent the next year in a Tibetan monastery after a horrifying experience with a teenage girl who was so infatuated with him that he became a Buddhist. Even she was not the type to scream and shout for anyone.

"It's okay, Mom." There was a tree-shaped air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror, and Cecilia watched it sway back and forth as she crossed the bridge. The TV in the cab blared and Juliette stopped it with her thumb. It was a beautiful day, blue skies, no clouds, no traffic. Cecelia was almost sad to leave the city, but she thought about going back to school in September and how her best friend would never speak to her and how everyone would think she had sinned and humiliated her by her leaving. Cecelia Raskin-Strick slept with an American Girl doll until she turned 12 last year. And it wasn't made of soft plastic. Then she was at least not sad to leave. For the rest of the day, her parents stared out of their respective windows, Cecelia looking over the driver's shoulder, trusting that he was on the right track.

All Adults Here. By Emma Straub. 368 pages. Riverhead Books. Copyright 2020 © by Emma Straub.

If you like audio, listen to an exclusive excerpt below and read the rest of the book on Audible (opens in a new tab).

Excerpt from "All the Adults Are Here" by Emma Straub.

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