I’m starting to think literary novels just aren’t for me. Kenyatta “KB’s” narrative voice was good though, at times, she felt younger than eleven. The distance between her older sister and how it affected her was well done. It can be tough for younger siblings to reconcile when their older teenage siblings want nothing to do with them/considerable space, then add in trauma and you have an emotional explosion. 

The tone of this book was very casual and slice-of-lifeish. KB’s momma is sad all the time, Granddaddy is mostly quiet but comes around eventually, and Nia is boy-crazy and irresponsible. At some point, KB realizes her momma’s sadness is here to stay and that her dad was drug addicted. But that’s mainly in the background of KB’s musings. Her foremost concerns are making Nia her friend again and trying to befriend two white kids in the neighborhood whose mom doesn’t want them around KB’s “kind.” 

For the longest, I wondered why this was labeled adult fiction until two climatic points. KB has a freakout once she discovers what Nia does while sneaking out. The event is terribly traumatic for her. The images she saw and her sister being involved mentally break little KB. The other plot point is a very unsettling sexual assault by a minor done to another minor. 

The ’90s setting also contributed absolutely nothing besides being after the brunt of the crack epidemic. On a good note, I enjoyed the relationship between KB and her grandfather once he defrosted. 

While this wasn’t for me, I wasn’t bored, but I was always waiting for what was next. This all felt a little like journal entries if that makes sense. Any element that was introduced was concluded with a nice bow at the end.