Matt Beam’s first YA novel is a case of close contact with the seventh-grade mind – worse, the seventh-grade boy’s mind, newly addled by testosterone. If you’re a seventh-grade boy, however, you may be relieved to learn you’re not the only one mired in pubescent confusion.

Beam has taught kids in Canada, New Zealand, and beyond, and he knows the territory well. Now living in Toronto, he sets his tale in an all-purpose North American suburb, as the baseball-mad threesome of Darcy, Dwight, and Ralph begins to come apart in junior high. School is now an unforgiving, subtly striated environment where a kid can’t be too friendly or too smart. Boys are at a particular disadvantage, as girls apparently come hard-wired with superior social skills. Darcy knows baseball, but the world of dating, kissing, and hand-holding is an alien one. He’s processing lots of other changes too. Good old Grandpa is suddenly inclined to wander. Darcy’s parents are preoccupied, and his dad is lugging childhood baggage. A new friend, Kamna, has strict parents who won’t let her socialize.

The book sometimes feels over-busy with peripheral characters, minor subplots, and chatter. But the story is engaging, Darcy’s likable, and there’s a kissing-in-the-closet scene that’s unforgettable. Will Darcy make the Midget team? Will he get to first base with the incomparable Danalda? When he gets there, will he find it all it’s cracked up to be? The answers are surprisingly subtle and unsimplistic. And the moral – go with your gut – is a solid one, in baseball and in love.