It was set in the seventies. Want to know how you could tell? You could tell because the author threw in completely unnecessary descriptions of the main character's clothing AS OFTEN AS POSSIBLE.
I didn't care about any of the characters--the protagonist was constantly mooning over two different boys, both jerks.
The whole thing was just so OBVIOUS. Next door neighbor child abuse, sketchy priest sex abuse scandal. Whatever.
Not worth the hour it took me to read it.