family fiction

The Great Shelby Holmes by Elizabeth Eulberg

the-great-shelby-holmes

I am always, always, always up for a good Sherlock Holmes retelling, and Eulberg’s Shelby Holmes story is a perfect middle grade entry into the Sherlock world.

In it, Shelby Holmes is a 9 year old sixth grader with all the brains, sass, and social awkwardness you’d expect from a character based on Sherlock, and John Watson has just moved into the building. John, whose military parents have just gone through a divorce, is in need of new friends and sort of falls into Shelby’s crime solving world when a classmate of theirs discovers that her prize-winning dog has been stolen.

Shelby and John are both well-written characters who work together in their own quirky ways, and they have depth to them that goes far beyond the crime to be solved. With John’s family situation and Shelby’s trouble making friends, there’s plenty here for readers to identify with and cheer the characters through.

The mystery itself is both clever enough to be worthy of a 9 year-old Holmes and solvable enough for a middle grade audience. The Great Shelby Holmes would be perfect for readers as young as 4th grade and I can see its appeal going up through middle school. Also, for those adults (like me!) who love Sherlockian literature, it’s a really fun look into the classic characters as modern day kids. Elizabeth confirmed for me that there will be at least two more Shelby Holmes books, and I’m already looking forward to them!

 

Tell Me Three Things by Julie Buxbaum

Confession: I’ve wanted to read Tell Me Three Things for quite a while (because of the heart shaped waffles on the cover, to be completely honest), but it’s one that I wasn’t able to get my hands on in ARC form, so I (stupidly) waited to buy it and now I’m late for the party. If you, like me, missed it when it first came out… you gotta get it now.

tell-me-three-things

In this, 16 year-old Jessie is trying to figure out life without her mom (she passed away two years ago) and with an entirely new city and step family (her dad moved her suddenly from Chicago to Los Angeles when he eloped with his new wife). On top of all that, Jessie’s now attending a prestigious private school that is beyond difficult to navigate as the new girl.

So, when she receives an anonymous email from a classmate calling himself Somebody/Nobody (SN for short) in which he offers to be a spirit guide to help her adjust to the school, she reluctantly accepts his help out of desperation. When their initial anonymous exchange develops into a friendship, the mysterious SN is still reluctant to meet, even though he clearly knows who Jessie is and they’re developing real feelings for each other. They start asking each other to “tell me three things,” and so these great lists of things are included in their messages back and forth. The identity of SN isn’t revealed until almost the end of the book, and while I did have a good idea of who I hoped it would be, I was guessing until the end just like Jessie was. I was so happy with who it was that I actually went back through the whole book and reread their messages. They just made me happy.

It may sound simple and potentially sad (dead mom, etc.), but Tell Me Three Things is honestly one of the most engaging, emotionally beautiful novels I’ve read this year. It’s NOT sad – Buxbaum’s author’s note made it clear that she wasn’t aiming to write a book about the death of a mom but instead wanted that to be a part of the character’s story – but the way Jessie learns from and deals with her grief is a very real and compelling. The hope she finds in new friendships and eventually in her relationship with her dad is ultimately what the reader feels at the end of the story.

Because I’m a teacher and I can’t turn that part of my brain off when I read YA, I do have to say that I think it’s appropriate for upper high school ages. There’s some language, but it doesn’t feel excessive or showy – it’s mostly coming from grief and truly hard situations. The profanity didn’t bother me in this book like it does in some others. There’s also a significant subplot involving one of the main character making the very grown up decision of whether or not she’s ready for sex. Again, that story line can bother be in some books if it’s not treated with care, but it’s done pretty carefully here, and that’s a topic I wish parents would talk more about with their kids anyway.

It’s been a long while since I’ve read a book that has set in and stuck with me throughout several days like this one did. It feels to me like everything that a book written for teens SHOULD be – not cheesy, full of real life situations, hopeful, fun, relevant, and engaging.

Find Tell Me Three Things on Amazon or at your favorite bookseller. Enjoy!

P.S. I Like You by Kasie West

ps-i-like-you

In P.S. I Like You, aspiring musician and generally awkward Lily Abbott falls into an anonymous pen pal relationship with a fellow Chemistry class sufferer. She and the pen pal hit it off and Lily’s having fun wondering who it could be… if only she could get her best friend’s ex, Cade Jennings, to leave her alone she’d be happy. Somehow they end up in verbal battles everytime they’re near each other. When Lily finally discovers the identity of her letter writer, she’ll have to take a step back and figure out how she really feels about everything. As usual, this book is not JUST a contemporary romance – there are family issues and big dreams and lots of real, relatable themes for teens. 

It’s no secret that I love everything Kasie writes, but I swear she gets better and better with each book she writes. I started reading P.S. I Like You one evening and couldn’t put it down… I did eventually fall asleep, but finished the story quickly the next morning and thought about Lily and Cade all day long.

I found this excerpt on GoodReads and had to share. Enjoy it, and check out this book!

“I nodded toward Cade’s wrist. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fun. I get a man bracelet.”

I smiled. “I don’t think you get to keep it. She’s just using you as her model.”

“Her model?”

“It’s a fact, not a compliment.”

“Because if you gave me a compliment you might have a stroke.”

I laughed. “Probably not a stroke, but my brain would definitely revolt in some way.”

He didn’t laugh along with me, just looked at the cording on his wrist.

“Oh, stop, you don’t need me to tell you that you’re hot to know that it’s true.”

“Are you okay? Did that hurt your head?” Cade asked.

I kicked his foot with mine and he laughed.

“So you think I’m hot?” Cade’s eyes sparkled.

“Doesn’t every girl?”

It surprised me when his cheeks turned a light shade of pink. I wasn’t sure why that embarrassed him in any way. I was positive he already knew it. He ran one hand through his hair. Then he said, almost too quiet for me to hear, “You’re not every girl.”

― Kasie West, P.S. I Like You

The Selection Series and a HUGE Giveaway from OwlCrate!

the selectionI’ve heard people describe The Selection series as The Bachelor meets The Hunger Games, which is a pretty accurate description in terms of the entertainment value of the series, but it’s really so much more than that. For one, the “bachelor” in this case is a gorgeous prince (and don’t most of us dream of that at least a little bit?) looking for his bride. For another, the main character, America Singer, is far more amazing than most of the backstabbing women we love to hate on The Bachelor.

In the world of The Selection, there’s a caste system in place designed to keep the peace in an unsteady future (though not a crazy sci-fi future) through a hierarchy of its people. Royalty are 1s, nobles are 2s, and so on and so forth, with wealth and power reducing with each step down. America Singer, a 5, has grown up in a family with very little resources. She’s had a secret love with a childhood friend, Aspen, that has little hope of surviving because he’s a 6 and she’s expected to marry higher. When the royal family announces a Selection to find Prince Maxon a princess, America registers in the hopes of being chosen and having the chance to earn some money (the girls are compensated for their time) for her family. She is shocked to find herself among the 35 candidates chosen to come live in the castle as Maxon chooses a wife.

The 35 girls make both friends and enemies while largely staying out of the politics of running a country, but America isn’t like most girls. She’s feisty and intelligent and catches Maxon’s eye right from the beginning. America is driven by a desire not just to improve her own family’s situation, but to shed light on the weaknesses of the caste system and how it negatively impacts the lower levels. I absolutely loved her character for her strength and determination.

There is bit of a love triangle happening between America, Aspen, and Maxon, but it’s very well done and I love the resolution of it. I enjoyed the dreaminess of the royal setting and the realistic feeling of the political climate, and I am always, always, always a sucker for a story that showcases a teenager standing up for what’s right in an effort to make their world a better one. I should also mention that this is a pretty clean series as far as content goes; I’m totally comfortable having this in the middle school library, though its appeal reaches much higher in age groups.

Now, this IS a series, but the good news is that the final book came out recently so you can easily binge-read them all this summer. From The Selection, the girls are narrowed down to a field of eight in The Elite, and then even further in The One. The story of the next generation is continued in two additional books, both of which are also out, so you don’t have to wait for those either. I definitely recommend reading all the way through to the end – Kiera Cass is an excellent writer and she wrapped the whole series up amazingly in the final book, The Crown.

Now, OwlCrate: Another thing I’m loving right now is subscription boxes. It’s just fun to have a happy thing show up in my mail box alongside the bills and junk mail, you know? So, I’ve done some research on YA Lit boxes and found one I’m really excited about – OwlCrate. I love their boxes, which are built around a monthly theme and include one great YA title and related swag. And guess what June’s theme was? ROYALTY. It’s perfect.

So, the wonderful people at OwlCrate have decided to give THREE of those Royalty boxes away over on SheReads, so GO THERE and enter! Winners will be chosen by the end of the week, so hurry!

2016 Debut Authors Bash: Jenna Evans Welch and Love & Gelato!

Debut Banner

love & gelato

I have SO MUCH LOVE for Jenna Evans Welch’s debut, Love & Gelato! Go read my previous review if you want, or just trust me that it’s awesome. (And make sure you read through to the bottom of this post for a chance to win a copy!)

One of my very favorite things about this book, though, was the Italian setting, which is downright magical in the way that Jenna brings it to life on the page. I asked her to share a bit about the process of writing a book with an American teen in a foreign setting, and about her inspiration for the setting. So, without further ado, here’s Jenna!

——————————–

Hello YA Blog World, and thank you Melissa for spotlighting me on your blog!

On May 3 I had a lifelong dream come true–my first YA novel LOVE & GELATO was released. After working on it for years (I wrote the first draft over seven years ago) it has been thrilling to hear from people who are actually reading it!

Here is a little bit about my book: LOVE & GELATO is a contemporary YA novel about a 16 year old girl named Lina who loses her mother to a fast moving illness. Before she dies, Lina’s mother makes her promise to spend some time with Howard, a man she met on a study abroad in Italy many years before. When Lina arrives in Florence she learns two things about Howard: one, he happens to be the caretaker for an American cemetery, and two, he’s her father. Of course this brings up a whole world of questions for Lina, namely: why didn’t her mom tell her who Howard was? Why did she keep her from him? And perhaps most troubling, why is she with him now? With the help of her mother’s journal, Lina starts exploring the city and piecing together her parents’ love story while (of course) getting entangled in her own.

The inspiration for this story was definitely personal. When I was 15-years old, my adventurous parents packed up me and my four younger siblings (plus about 300 duffel bags) and moved us to Florence for a year. We lived in a little house in Tuscany, and I attended high school in a tiny international school housed in an old villa. During that first year I drove a scooter, ate mass quantities of gelato, and made friends from all over the world. It was absolutely magical. When that first year was up I begged my parents to let me stay for a second year on my own–and amazingly, they did.

Those two years a very big deal to me. Leaving my comfort zone for a place with people from all over the world expanded my world exponentially and I have thought about that experience on a daily basis ever since. So when I decided I was going to go for it–fulfill my lifelong dream of writing a YA novel–it only made sense to write about a teenage girl discovering Italy.

My goal during this whole process was to write the book that I was looking for as a teenager. I wanted adventure, humor, romance and mystery–but most of all I wanted to be transported somewhere magic, and my hope is that LOVE & GELATO does just that.

Thank you for spotlighting my book!

With lots of love (and gelato), Jenna

——————————–

Now, ENTER TO WIN a copy of LOVE & GELATO (US only): Rafflecopter giveaway

AND go buy yourself a copy, because when we’re talking about love and gelato, who wants to wait and see if they win? Go get it!

Check out Jenna’s author page on Goodreads, too, where you can ask her questions and stay connected with her latest news.

Debut Button

 

2016 Debut Authors Bash: R.S. Grey and CHASING SPRING!

Debut Banner

R.S. Grey is no stranger to the adult romance market, but this February she published Chasing Spring, her first YA novel. I snatched it up as soon as it was out and devoured it in a day, and I couldn’t have loved it more. I had to put it in the library at school… and quickly got additional copies because the teenage girls loved it so much that it had a pretty long waiting list.

On Instagram and twitter and everywhere else, Rachel’s fun and smart and adorable, and Chasing Spring made me love her writing so much. The way she flawlessly built the story, with deep and intriguing characters who are passionate and romantic, is really something. I also love how Chasing Spring serves as a reminder that, even though parents make mistakes, teenagers are not defined by their parents’ actions or doomed to repeat them. As you can tell, I really like this book (and its gorgeous cover, which Rachel made herself).

chasing spring

So, I’m happy to get to host Rachel with a quick interview about Chasing Spring. Make sure you read through to the bottom for a chance to win a signed paperback of Chasing Spring! And, of course, go buy it! Don’t even wait for the giveaway.

———————————————————————–

  1. Welcome, Rachel! For any readers who haven’t read Chasing Spring yet, can you introduce us to Lilah and Chase by telling us five words they’d use to describe each other?

5 words Lilah would use to describe Chase: loyal, kind, stubborn, talented, and bright (as in blindin)
5 words Chase would use to describe Lilah: head-strong, intelligent, beautiful, mysterious, and intriguing

  1. Chasing Spring was a big departure for you when compared to your other adult titles. What made this story one that just had to be told, even though it was so different?

This story was in my head for two years before I finally published it. I worked on it in between my adult novels, and I used it as a sort of buffer between stories. Often times between writing romantic comedies, I feel the need to write something with a little more depth and emotion.

  1. Please share a favorite quote from Chasing Spring – one that you think really represents what the book is all about.

“Does the ending even matter? Shouldn’t the middle be the happy part? It’s the biggest chunk of our life, and yet no one ever asks if two people had a happy middle. They care too much about the ending.” ― R.S. Grey, Chasing Spring

  1. I absolutely love the cover for Chasing Spring. It’s beautiful. Can you talk about the process of creating that cover?

Creating the cover for a book is a long process for me because I don’t settle on a finished product until it feels right. The cover for Chasing Spring took multiple attempts. I tried out covers that featured models and then finally settled on one that looked sweet, but on closer inspection had a touch of darkness to it.

  1. Where do you see Chase and Lilah now, post-Chasing Spring? How about in 10 years? Is there anything they’d want to say to their potential future readers?

I purposely left this open for the reader. With YA books, I don’t like to outline what will happen to the characters in ten years, because they’re still teenagers with so much growing up to do. I wanted there to be a happy ending without anything too explicit tied in.

———————————————————————–

Now, GO ENTER TO WIN a signed, paperback copy of CHASING SPRING: a Rafflecopter giveaway! (US addresses only.)

Debut Button

 

Love & Gelato by Jenna Evans Welch

love and gelato

I have all the love in the world for well-written YA books involving an American teen travelling to a place I’d love to go, and Love & Gelato absolutely did NOT disappoint.

When Lina’s mom dies as a result of a quick-moving cancer, she feels obligated to fulfill one of her mom’s final wishes: that Lina would go to Italy and spend some time getting to know the country and the man who Lina has been told is her father, though she’s never actually met him. Obviously, because she’s grieving her mom’s death and in a foreign country and surrounded by people she doesn’t really know, there’s a huge adjustment period for Lina.

But, of course, Italy works its magic (the architecture, the pizza, and the gelato) and Lina meets a cute foreign boy, Ren, and his group of friends that she starts to explore the country with. She’s also given a journal that belonged to her mom while she studied abroad in Italy, and as she gets into it she realizes it’s the story of her mom and dad’s romance. With the help of Ren, she tracks down and finds answers for the mysteries contained in her mom’s journal, including the truth about her dad.

Lina finds love and adventure along the way, and the story is really just beautiful. It also left me really, really wanting to go to Italy… But I had to settle for making some Italian food. Love & Gelato comes out next week, so make sure you check it out! Find it here on Amazon or at your favorite bookstore.

Tone Deaf by Olivia Rivers

tone deaf

For this one, let me start with the official blurb:

Ali Collins was a child prodigy destined to become one of the greatest musicians of the twenty-first century—until she was diagnosed with a life-changing brain tumor. Now, at seventeen, Ali lives in a soundless world where she gets by with American Sign Language and lip-reading. She’s a constant disappointment to her father, a retired cop fighting his own demons, and the bruises are getting harder to hide.

When Ali accidentally wins a backstage tour with the chart-topping band Tone Deaf, she’s swept back into the world of music. Jace Beckett, the nineteen-year-old lead singer of the band, has a reputation. He’s a jerk and a player, and Ali wants nothing to do with him. But there’s more to Jace than the tabloids let on. When Jace notices Ali’s bruises and offers to help her escape to New York, Ali can’t turn down the chance at freedom and a fresh start. Soon she’s traveling cross-country, hidden away in Jace’s RV as the band finishes their nationwide tour. With the help of Jace, Ali sets out to reboot her life and rediscover the music she once loved.

I can’t say that I’ve ever read anything quite like this before, and I loved it. Ali and Jace and their experiences both with music and the Deaf culture were absolutely fascinating. I loved their connection with each other through music, even though Ali couldn’t technically hear Jace’s music.

I also love that Ali is a great, strong, smart protagonist. Despite not having much in common with her life situations, I immediately identified with her as a reader and couldn’t help but cheer for her all the way through. I’m also a fan of how skillfully Rivers brought in the topic of abuse and how beautifully it was woven into the story.

All in all, this book is highly recommended! CHeck it out here on Amazon or at your favorite bookseller.

Every Last Word by Tamara Ireland Stone

every last word

Tamara Ireland Stone’s Every Last Word completely caught me by surprise. I’d thought the synopsis sounded good when I picked it to read, and I’ve always loved novels that incorporate poetry into the story, but I wasn’t prepared for how great this book really is.

Sixteen year-old Samantha suffers from Purely Obsessional OCD, which she somehow keeps hidden from her group of friends, who would rip her apart and kick her solidly out of the popular social circle at any hint of something out of the ordinary. When Sam meets a new and definitely unpopular friend, Caroline, she also keeps that friendship hidden… especially when Caroline introduces her to a secret poetry club that meets in their school.It’s in this poetry club that Sam discovers the therapeutic value of writing. She also meets a few other friends, like the talented and cute musician, AJ.

Sam’s confidence grows and healing begins and romance blooms in this truly beautifully written story. The Kirkus Review of Every Last Word said it’s “Clueless meets Dead Poets Society with a whopping final twist,” and I couldn’t agree more, which is probably why I liked it so much.

Check out Every Last Word on Amazon or at your favorite bookseller!

New Release Blog Tour: What You Left Behind by Jessica Verdi

what you left behind

I got to read What You Left Behind earlier this summer, and I loved it. It was heartbreaking and emotional and lovely… The official blurb compares it to Nicholas Sparks, and I can see that (though it wasn’t quite that depressing – I’ve sworn off all future Sparks books, but I’d read Verdi again in a heartbeat). Anyway, read below for some info about the book, including an excerpt and a chance to win free stuff!

What You Left Behind
By Jessica Verdi

About the Book
Jessica Verdi, the author of My Life After Now and The Summer I Wasn’t Me, returns with a heartbreaking and poignant novel of grief and guilt that reads like Nicholas Sparks for teens.

It’s all Ryden’s fault. If he hadn’t gotten Meg pregnant, she would have never stopped her chemo treatments and would still be alive. Instead he’s failing fatherhood one dirty diaper at a time. And it’s not like he’s had time to grieve while struggling to care for their infant daughter, start his senior year, and earn the soccer scholarship he needs to go to college.

The one person who makes Ryden feel like his old self is Joni. She’s fun and energetic—and doesn’t know he has a baby. But the more time they spend together, the harder it becomes to keep his two worlds separate. Finding one of Meg’s journals only stirs up old emotions. Ryden’s convinced Meg left other notebooks for him to find, some message to help his new life make sense. But how is he going to have a future if he can’t let go of the past?

Find What You Left Behind HERE on Amazon!

About the Author
Jessica Verdi lives in Brooklyn, NY and received her MFA in Writing for Children from The New School. Her favorite pastimes include singing show tunes at the top of her lungs (much to her husband’s chagrin), watching cheesy TV, and scoring awesome non-leather shoes in a size 5. She’s still trying to figure out a way to put her uncanny ability to remember both song lyrics and the intricacies of vampire lore to good use. Follow Jess on Twitter @jessverdi.

Connect with Jessica Verdi
Website – http://jessicaverdi.com/
Twitter – https://twitter.com/JessVerdi
Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/authorjessicaverdi
Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6442339.Jessica_Verdi

Praise for What You Left Behind

“A powerful indictment of reparative therapy–a sweet love story–and an unforgettable main character!” –Nancy Garden, author of Annie on My Mind
“Ryden’s story is a moving illustration of how sometimes you have to let go of the life you planned to embrace the life you’ve been given. A strong, character-driven story that teen readers will love.”
–Carrie Arcos, National Book Award Finalist for Out of Reach

Praise for The Summer I Wasn’t Me:
“Verdi has written a book that I wish I wrote.” –Sara Farizan, author of If You Could Be Mine

“His [Ryden’s] candid voice is endearing, and although his present-tense narration at first seems like every other teen novel on the shelf, the granulated iteration of baby details helps to illuminate the crushing burden he feels. Other characters are also well-drawn, and the plot moves along tidily to a satisfying conclusion. Verdi balances her plot elements deftly.” — Kirkus Reviews

“Verdi holds nothing back, shedding a realistic light on Ryden’s situation, his decisions, and their very real consequences. His voice is spot-on and doesn’t sugarcoat the harsh realities that he faces. It isn’t often that a book nails the male teen voice as well as Verdi does in this work. An excellent addition to YA collections.” — School Library Journal, STARRED REVIEW

“Teens will be hooked by the premise but will stick with Ryden and
his friends in this all-too-real portrait of a modern family.” — Booklist

Excerpt from What You Left Behind

Chapter 1

If there’s a more brain-piercing sound than a teething baby crying, I can’t tell you what it is.
I fall back on my bed, drop Meg’s journal, and rake my hands through my hair. It’s kinda funny—in an ironic way, not an LOL way—that I even notice how greasy my hair is with the wailing filling my room and ringing in my head. But I do. It’s gross. When was the last time I washed it? Three days ago? Four? I haven’t had time for anything more than a quick soap and rinse in days.
And here I used to purposely go a day or two without washing it. Girls have always liked my chin-length hair that falls in my face when I’m hunched over a test in school and that I have to pull back with a rubber band during soccer practice. But now it’s gone past sexy-straggly and straight into flat-out dirty.
God, I would kill for a long, hot, silent shower. I would lather, rinse, repeat like it was my fucking job.
Tears squeeze between Hope’s closed eyelids and her little chubby feet wiggle every which way. Her pink, gummy mouth is open wide, and you can just begin to see specks of white where her teeth are coming in.
Her crib is littered with evidence of my attempts to get her to please stop crying—a discarded teething ring, a mostly-full bottle, and this freakish, neon green, stuffed monster with huge eyes that my mom swore Hope liked when she first gave it to her, though I have no idea how she could tell that.
I pick up Hope and try massaging her gums with a damp washcloth like they say to do on all the baby websites. I bounce her on my hip and walk her around my room, trying to murmur soothing, shhhh-ing sounds. I even rub her head, as gently as my clunky, goal-blocking hands can manage. But nothing works. The screams work their way inside me, rattling my blood cells.
Yes, I changed her diaper. I even brought her to the doctor last week to make sure nothing’s actually wrong with her, some leftover sickness from Meg or something. There’s not.
Ever since Hope was born six months ago, I’ve been learning on the fly, getting used to the diapers and bottles and sleeping when she sleeps. I spend all of my free time reading mommy-ing websites, finding out which stores have the right kind of wipes, and shopping at the secondhand store for baby clothes, because they’re basically just as good as new and Hope grows out of everything so fast anyway.
Hope’s never fully warmed to me. She always cries more when I hold her than when my mom does—but it’s never been this bad. This teething stuff is no joke. According to the Internet, anyway. It’s not like Hope’s giving me a dissertation on what she’s feeling. Whenever I get anywhere near her, she screams her head off. Which means no matter how hard I try or how many books I read or websites I scour, I’m still doing something wrong. But what else is new?
Lately I’ve had this idea that I can’t seem to shake.
What if I’m missing some crucial dad-gene because I never had one of my own? What if I’m literally incapable of being a father to this baby because I have zero concept of what a father really is? Like beyond a definition or what you see of your friends’ families and on TV.
I have no idea what that relationship’s supposed to be like. I’ve never lived it.
And inevitably that thought leads to this one:
Maybe finding my dad, Michael, is the key to all of this making some sense. Maybe if I tracked him down, I’d finally be clued in to what I’ve been missing. The real stuff. How you’re supposed to talk to each other. What the, I don’t know, energy is like between a father and a son. Not that I’m into cosmic energy bullshit or anything.
If I could be the son in that interaction, even once, for a single conversation, that could jumpstart my being a father. Right? At least I’d have some frame of reference, some experience.
But that would require getting more info about Michael from my mom. And I’ve already thrown enough curveballs her way to last a lifetime.
The music blasting from Mom’s home office shuts off. Five o’clock exactly, like always nowadays. She loves her job making custom, handmade wedding invitations for rich people. Before Hope, Mom would work all hours of the day and night. But it turns out babies costa shitload of money, and despite how well Mom’s business is doing, it’s not enough. So the new arrangement is that during the day Mom gets to turn her music on and her grandma duties off while I take care of Hope. Then Mom takes over when I leave for work at 5:30.
In a few days that schedule’s going to change, and I don’t know what the hell we’re going to do. That’s another topic I haven’t brought up with Mom. She keeps saying we need to talk about our plan for “when school starts up again,” like she’s forgotten that soccer practice starts sooner than that. Like it doesn’t matter anymore or something.
But I can’t not play. Soccer is the one thing I kick ass at. It’s the whole reason I’m going back to school this fall instead of sticking with homeschooling, which I did for the last few months of last year after Hope was born. Fall is soccer season. I need to go to school in order to play on the team. And I need to play on the team because I’m going to UCLA on an athletic scholarship next year. It’s pretty much a done deal. I’ve even spoken to their head coach a few times this summer. He called me on July first, the first day he was allowed to contact me according to NCAA rules. He’s seen my game film, tracked my stats, and is sending a recruiter to watch one of my games in person. He wants me on his team. This is what I’ve been working toward my whole life. So Mom’s delusional if she thinks I’m giving it up.
I wipe the tears from Hope’s face and the drool from around her mouth. Her soft, unruly, dark hair tickles my hand as I set her down in her crib. She’s still crying. She grasps onto my finger, holding on extra tight, like she’s saying, “Do something, man. This shit is painful!”
“I’m trying,” I mumble.
I meet Mom in her office, where she’s sitting on the floor, attempting to organize her materials. Stacks of paper and calligraphy pens are scattered among plastic bags filled with real leaves from the trees in our yard. Three hot glue guns are plugged into the wall, and photos of the Happy Couple glide across Mom’s laptop screen.
“Hippie wedding in California?” I guess, nodding at the leaves. The people who hire Mom to make one-of-a-kind invitations always want a design that relates who they are. Mom and I started this game years ago. She tells me what materials she’s using, and I try to guess what kind of people the Happy Couple are. I’m usually pretty good.
Mom shakes her head. “Hikers in Boulder.”
Or I was pretty good. Now everything is so turned around that I can barely think.
“That was my next guess,” I say.
Mom smiles. She’s been so great about everything. She’s not even pissed about me making her a thirty-five-year-old grandmother. She says that she, better than anyone, gets how these things happen. But this is not your typical “oops, got pregnant in high school, what do we do now?” scenario, like what happened to her. This is the much more rare “oops, I killed the love of my life by getting her pregnant in high school, and ruined my life and the lives of all her family and friends in the process” situation.
And deep down, I know Mom knows that. Mom’s green eyes used to sparkle. They don’t anymore. It’s not because of the baby—she loves that kid to an almost ridiculous level. It’s because of me. She’s sad for me. Even though the name “Meg” is strictly off-limits in our house, I can almost see the M and E and G floating around in my mom’s eyes like alphabet soup, like she’s been bottling up everything she’s wanted to say for the past six months and it is about to overflow. I need to get out of here.
“So, I’m out,” I say quickly, clipping my Whole Foods nametag to my hoodie. “Be home at ten-fifteen.”
Mom sighs. “Okay, Ry. Have fun. Love you.”
“Love you too,” I call back as I head to the front door.
She always says that when I leave to go somewhere. Have fun. She’s been saying it for years. Doesn’t matter if I’m going to school or work or soccer practice or a freaking pediatrician’s appointment with Hope. Have fun. Like having fun is the most important thing you can do. Like you can possibly have fun when you’re such a fucking mess.
*
I’m restocking the organic taco shells in the Mexican and Asian Foods aisle, trying to block out the Celine Dion song that’s playing over the PA system, when I notice a kid, no older than six or seven, climbing the shelves at the opposite end of the aisle. His feet are two levels off the ground, and he’s holding onto a shelf above him, trying to raise himself up another level.
“Hey,” I call down the aisle. “Don’t do that.”
“It’s okay. I do it all the time,” he says, successfully pulling himself up another foot. He lets go with one hand and stretches toward something on the top shelf.
“Wait.” I start to move toward him. “I’ll get whatever you need. Just get down.”
But there’s a determined set to his jaw and he keeps reaching higher, the tips of his fingers brushing a bag of tortilla chips. I keep walking toward him, but I slow down a little. He really wants to do this on his own, you can tell. I’m a few feet away, and he’s almost got a grab on the bag, when his one-handed grip on the shelf slips and his Crocs lose their foothold. Suddenly he’s falling backward, nothing but air between the back of his head and the hard tile floor. I move faster than I would have thought possible, given how tired I am. I shoot my arms under his armpits and catch the boy just before he hits the ground.
The kid rights himself, plants his feet safely on the floor, and looks at me. My heart is beating way too fast, but I tell it to chill the fuck out. The kid is fine. Crisis averted.
“Thanks,” he mumbles.
“No problem.”
He ducks his head and starts to walk away.
“Hey,” I call out.
He stops.
I grab a bag of chips off the top shelf—funny how easy it is for me to reach; sometimes I still feel like a little kid who the world is too big for—and hand it to him.
He takes it, no thank you this time, and disappears around the corner.
I’m dragging my feet back to the taco shells, back to the monotony, when there’s a voice behind me.
“Why, Ryden Brooks, as I live and breathe.”
My spine stiffens. I haven’t heard that voice since before I left school in February. I turn and find myself face to face with Shoshanna Harvey. Her soft, Southern Belle accent comes complete with a delicate hand to the chest and a batting of long, thick lashes. I fell for that whole act once. Before I found out about a little thing called real life.
Apparently today is weird-shit-happening at Whole Foods day. I saw her in the store once about a month ago, but ducked down a different aisle before she saw me. This time, I’m not so lucky. “You do know we live in New Hampshire, not Mississippi, right?”
Shoshanna just purses her lips and studies me. “How are things, Ryden?”
“Things are great, Shoshanna. Really, just super.”
“Really?” Her eyes are bright. Clearly, she’s never heard of sarcasm. “That’s so great to hear. We’ve been worried about you, you know.”
“We? Who’s we?” You never know with Shoshanna—she could be talking about her family or she could be talking about the whole damn school.
Just then another familiar voice carries down the aisle. “Hey, Sho, how do you know when a cantaloupe is ripe?” It’s Dave. His hands are placed dramatically on his hips and he’s got three melons under his shirt—two representing boobs and one that I’m pretty sure is supposed to be a pregnant woman’s belly. A flash of rage burns through me but I smother it deep inside me where all my unwelcome emotions reside. It’s getting pretty crowded in there.
“Dave,” Shoshanna hisses, her eyes growing as-wide-as-possible in that thing people do when they’re trying to get someone to take a hint without saying the actual words.
He follows Shoshanna’s nod toward me and drops the doofy grin. “Oh. Hey, Ryden.” He relaxes his stance and the cantaloupes fall to the floor.
I look back and forth between Shoshanna and Dave, and it all clicks. They’re the “we.” My ex-girlfriend and my former best friend are together. That kind of thing used to require at least a “Hey, man. Cool with you if I ask out Shoshanna?” text, but I guess we left the bro code behind right around the time my girlfriend up and died and I became a seventeen-year-old single father. Yeah, Dave and I don’t exactly have much in common anymore.
“You work here?” Dave asks.
“Nah, I just like helping restock supermarket shelves in my free time.”
“Oh. I thought…” Dave looks at my Whole Foods nametag, confused.
“He was kidding, Dave,” Shoshanna whispers.
Ah, look at that. Sarcasm isn’t completely lost on her after all.
“Oh. Right. We’re, uh, just getting some food for the senior picnic tomorrow down at the lake. You coming?”
I stare in Dave’s general direction, unthinking, unseeing. I forgot all about the picnic, even though it’s been a Downey High School tradition for pretty much ever.
Dave keeps talking. “Coach said you’re coming back to school in September. You are, right? We really need you on the te—”
“Hey, Ryden, can you help me with a cleanup in dairy?” a female voice asks, cutting him off. “Some asshole kids decided to play hacky sack with a carton of eggs.”
I blink a few times, push the picnic out of my mind, and look down to find what used to be a box of blue corn taco shells crumpled in my hands. Oops.
The source of the voice is a girl with short, medium brown hair that is juuust long enough to fall in her eyes, skin just a shade or two lighter than her hair, earrings stuck in weird places in her ears, and tie-dyed overalls over a black tank top. She looks like she works in a Whole Foods. Definitely a lesbian.
“Uh, yeah. Sure,” I say. I turn back to Shoshanna and Dave, glad to have an excuse to bail on this happy little reunion. “Gotta go.”
“Bye, Ryden!” Shoshanna’s voice travels down the aisle after me.
“Yeah, see ya tomorrow, Ry.”
I shake my head to myself as I follow tie-dye girl to dairy. Good thing that wasn’t awkward or anything.
Once we’re out of sight of the Mexican and Asian aisle, tie-dye girl stops walking and spins on her heel. “Right, so…” she says as I screech to a halt behind her. “There’s no cleanup in dairy.”
“Huh?” That’s all I got. I’m so tired.
“Sorry, it just looked like you were having a moment there. Thought you might need a little help with your getaway.”
I lean back against a display of recycled paper towels. They’re soft. I could totally curl up right here on the floor and use one of the rolls as a pillow.
“Thanks,” I say. “How did you know my name?”
She points to my nametag.
“Right” I say. “Where’s yours? Or do you not even work here?”
She pulls the top of her overalls to the side to reveal a nametag pinned to her tank top. Joni. “I’m new. Started the day before yesterday and already blew my first week’s paycheck on ungodly amounts of pomegranate-flavored soda. That stuff is like crack.”
I smile for the first time in centuries. “Nice to meet you, Joni,” I say.
“I saw you catch that kid,” she says.
“Oh.”
“That was cool.”
I shrug. “I guess.” There’s an awkward pause, like she’s waiting for me to say something else. “Well, see ya,” I mumble and book it out of there as fast as I can.
“Nice to meet you too, Ryden,” Joni calls after me.

Click on the Rafflecopter Giveaway below for your chance to win one of
3 signed copies of What You Left Behind & 3 signed bookmarks,
Open 08/04 – 08/18!

CLICK HERE:
a Rafflecopter giveaway

Or, copy and paste this DIRECT LINK into your browser:

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/share-code/NTRjYTdhZjdlZjllOTI4OGFhZGI5NGU3ODI3MzgxOjE2NA==/?