As soon as I saw that Becky Albertalli’s newest YA novel, Amelia, If Only, featured a parasocial relationship, I couldn’t wait to read it. Defined by Psychology Today, a parasocial relationship is a one-sided attachment to a celebrity or fictional character. In the case of Amelia, that parasocial relationship is between the titular character Amelia Applebaum and local YouTuber Walter Holland. Both are high school students. Both are out as bisexual. And while Amelia is absolutely obsessed with Walter’s content, he has no idea that she exists.
At least until she invites him to prom via social media. If he doesn’t respond, and Amelia deletes the video, it never happened — right?
But the drama only escalates from there. Amelia takes place over the course of five days, most of which is a weekend trip to the fictional Blackwell College in Geneva, New York, a setting shared with Albertalli’s 2023 YA novel Imogen, Obviously. Walter is hosting a meet-and-greet event there, and Amelia convinces her three best friends Natalie, Mark, and Zora to attend with her. What will happen when Amelia meets Walter in person? Will this event change her life?
Amelia explores themes of growing up and falling in love; it asks big questions about change, friendship, and how the pop culture we consume — and the fandoms we engage with — impacts us.
SPOILER WARNING: Unfortunately, it’s impossible to discuss Amelia without spoilers. To stay spoiler-free, check out our Bi Media entry for a short summary instead.
Much like Imogen, Albertalli’s newest novel is introspective. Much of the narrative takes place in Amelia’s head as she struggles to parse her feelings, particularly around the line between friendship and romance. She has strong opinions around things like Walter’s amazing YouTube content and her best friend Natalie’s annoying ex-girlfriend, but these are, to some extent, bluster that camouflages her uncertainties.
For example, Amelia doesn’t share with her friends how unsteady she felt in her own queerness in middle school; in chapter 13, she recounts how certain her friends seemed at that age, which left Amelia feeling disconnected. Walter expresses some of the same uncertainties in his videos, which is one of the things that Amelia loves about his content: he gets her. Even without knowing she exists.
I was drawn to Amelia for its portrayals of parasocial relationships. It’s a topic I’ve written about myself, though my research has focused more on fictional characters (and how these parasocial connections provide us comfort). For me, these explorations were among the most engaging parts of the book — Amelia’s wistfulness for Walter felt very real, including lines about how she has this “gut feeling” that “Walter and I could be something. If only we could talk, once, for real.” Lines like these, in which Amelia draws lines between what’s real and what’s not, left me wanting more of her insightfulness.
There’s an endearing self-awareness in how Amelia interrogates what she calls her “sort-of crush” on Walter. She agonizes over her outfit on the day of his event, questioning why she cares what he might think of her cardigan (or lack of one): “Maybe I have a crush on the possibility of Walter — because, at the end of the day, I barely even know him.”
These moments contrast sharply with Amelia’s interactions with her friends, which are intentionally more surface level. Early on, Amelia talks over Natalie after her friend’s big prom breakup; without going too deep into spoilers, the truth of the breakup didn’t surprise me, when it was revealed at the end of the novel. Nor was I surprised by Mark’s secret. The truth of both situations seemed clear to me from the start, leaving the reveals a little anti-climactic.
This is in part the point, though: much of the plot deals with Amelia’s fear of change, and her talking over others serves as a clear reminder of what she isn’t ready to process. Though it’s effective, I was left feeling a little frustrated for Amelia’s friends. Them not correcting her assumptions is incredibly (over-)accommodating, and maybe a way to assuage their own guilt about what they’re hiding from her, including Zora’s decision to not go to the same school as Amelia, an event that takes up surprisingly little page space. It creates an interesting mix of tensions.
Though interesting, I do wish the novel took a little longer with its ending. Amelia’s entire life is turned upside-down in the last third of the book. In the span of a few hours: Amelia comes to a realization about her parasocial relationship with Walter; Natalie runs away from Blackwell College; Zora reveals her college decision change; and Amelia finally begins to understand her feelings for Natalie. It’s a whirlwind — one that might have felt less chaotic and more emotional had it moved a little slower. (For example: What was Natalie hoping to get out of leaving, other than panicking her friends?)
In particular, I wish Amelia came to understand her relationship with Natalie on her own. Many of her realizations are spoon-fed to her by other characters, who put into words what Amelia can’t. This is cute in some ways, but feels less impactful than watching Amelia piece it together on her own and take agency over her feelings for the first time.
Overall, I was thrilled to see parasocial connections explored in YA. For that I’m very pleased to have found Amelia, If Only. Peppered with moments of intense self-awareness, the novel was a quick and engaging read sure to delight readers who love YA, light romance, and discussions about pop culture.