Tell Me Three Things by Julie Buxbaum — Summary & Review

Julie Buxbaum’s "Tell Me Three Things" nails that messy, confusing slice of teenage life when everything familiar gets yanked away. Jessie Holmes, a 16-year-old from Chicago, lands in Los Angeles after her mother’s death—just in time to live with a dad who’s moved on and a stepmom she barely knows. It’s not just the city that’s alien; Jessie’s new school is a fortress of privilege and insider codes she doesn’t get. She’s the outsider, grieving, trying to figure out where she fits.

Enter "Somebody/Nobody" (SN), an anonymous classmate who starts emailing Jessie with tips, warnings, and a weird kind of friendship. This digital pen pal knows the ropes of the school’s social jungle and slowly becomes Jessie’s guide and confidant. But who is SN? That mystery thread keeps the story ticking, layering a subtle tension beneath the everyday teenage drama.

Jessie’s journey isn’t just about decoding cliques or surviving awkward cafeteria moments. It’s about wrestling with grief and identity when your old life is gone and the new one feels like a trap. Her internal world is messy—sometimes raw, sometimes sarcastic, often painfully real. She leans on her best friend Scarlett back in Chicago, who offers a distant but steady anchor, while also navigating a complicated connection with Ethan, a fellow student with his own baggage.

Buxbaum’s writing style is a breath of fresh air. She mixes traditional narrative with emails and texts, making the story feel immediate and modern without overdoing the tech. The tone balances humor and heartache, never sugarcoating the pain but also refusing to drown in it. You get the awkward, snarky, hopeful voice of a teenager who’s trying to keep it together when nothing makes sense.

The setting—a high-end LA private school—is portrayed with a sharp eye for social dynamics and the weird pressures of wealth and image. But Buxbaum doesn’t just use it as a backdrop; it’s a character in itself, shaping Jessie’s challenges and growth. The anonymity of SN adds a layer of intrigue that’s more about trust and vulnerability than just a plot gimmick.

What stands out is how the novel handles grief—not as a neat, linear process but as a jagged, ongoing struggle. Jessie’s loss colors everything, influencing how she sees herself and others. The story doesn’t pretend that friendship and new starts erase pain, but it shows how connection can be a lifeline.

The novel also digs into identity—how we define ourselves when the old markers vanish. Jessie’s quest to understand who she is beyond her loss, her family drama, and her school’s social maze feels authentic. It’s not a feel-good makeover story but a real, sometimes uncomfortable exploration of growing up.

On the downside, some readers might find the mystery of SN a bit slow to pay off, or the elite school setting a familiar trope. The pacing occasionally dips as Jessie juggles emails, social trials, and family tensions, which might test patience if you’re after nonstop action. But if you’re here for the emotional texture and character depth, that’s a small price.

Overall, "Tell Me Three Things" is a solid pick for anyone who’s ever felt like the new kid, the outsider, or just plain lost. It’s a reminder that sometimes the people who really get you aren’t the ones you expect—and that healing isn’t a straight line, but a messy, ongoing conversation.