"This is what we don't admit about first kisses: One of the most gratifying things about them is that they are proof, actual proof, that the other person wants to kiss us."

Of course this book specifically pays tribute to the gay community, but there was so much about it that was relatable from the standpoint of being young, questioning (both in terms of sexuality and life in general), a little insecure, and open to love and hope for the future.

This book broke my heart and healed it a million different ways over the course of the narrative — because it's really just one narrative, compromised of smaller-scale, detailed scenes (Harry and Craig, Ryan and Avery, Peter and Neil, Cooper) that connect and overlap and intertwine.

I particularly enjoyed the point of view, which I found especially fitting for the tone and themes being conveyed, and I liked the extended story arc: how, like the scene of Harry and Craig, two boys kissing, it stretched on with lulls but no breaks.

Recommended by DB @ DB's Guide to the Galaxy and Meeghan @ Meeghan Reads.

content warnings:

Spoiler

internalized & external fatphobia, underage drinking, invalidation of sexuality

rep:

Spoiler

fat lesbian MC [Abby], Mexican-American lesbian LI [Jordi], F/F main romance, Black best friend [Maliah]

RTC

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CONVERSION: 7.7 / 15 = 3 stars

Prose: 4 / 10
Characters & Relationships: 6 / 10
Emotional Impact: 4 / 10
Development / Flow: 5 / 10
Setting: 7 / 10

Diversity & Social Themes: 3 / 5
Originality / Trope Execution: 2 / 5

content warnings:

Spoiler

heterocissexism, misogynistic language, ableist language, body image issues, mention of borderline disordered eating, mention of precanon parent death, mention of bullying, anaphylaxis (peanut allergy)

I definitely wouldn't have picked this up if it wasn't an Amazon First Reads title (and the most remotely-appealing sounding one of the bunch), but it was a decently entertaining read. The whole premise is very cishet-middle-class soccer/ softball mom, which isn't inherently bad but does mean that — apart from a few brief discussions of childhood poverty from one POV protagonist and a handful of race-related comments from a secondary character of color — there's an underlying level of unexamined privilege. While I (mostly) applaud the ultimate message, which you can probably guess from the synopsis and some basic knowledge of how such books tend to go, it's certainly not revolutionary and is even a bit simplistic, given all the drama leading up to the epiphany.

A decent conclusion to the trilogy, though I must say I'm disappointed that it didn't live up to its predecessors. Team Will all the way; Tomas was nice but boring.

Ohhh my gosh. I couldn't pinpoint whether it's the style, the characters, the school/Hunger Games mashup, but I loved this book. It is a jewel in the rock mine of dystopian literature; I'm eager to read the sequel.

Very appealing to me as a pre-collegiate reader. Induction: Testing-level hazing; a satisfying Hunger Games-type adventure. Mildly alarmingly, I find myself feeling more and more Team Will.

Wow. That ending? So not cool. “TBC” following possibly the most cliched plot twist possible reads like the author ran up against a deadline and/or writer’s block and had to publish the book before it was ready. And the plot was really just a series of tropes; I could probably predict exactly how everything plays out in the next book. It sucks to be left out and drift apart from your BFs (best friend and boyfriend), but the way it was written just felt juvenile and melodramatic.

Look, I loved these books when I was younger, which surprised me because I wouldn’t have picked them out myself — I got the first one for Christmas from family friends (we love them, but they don’t always “get” our tastes) and found the next two in the elementary school library. I’m not sure what reminded me to see if there were more, but here we are. And I am so disappointed.

In a nutshell, despite Willa’s YA-typical age, these still read like middle grade novels. Her “voice” (aside: using quotation marks in your comments on something so mundane as a writer’s “voice” or use of “first person” feels incredibly pretentious, but Willa does it. so. much) reads exactly the same as her middle school days, which is far too young for a rising high school sophomore, particularly an alleged sophisticated thinker. She wears her heart on her sleeve (“I found that dog. He’s mine. Not getting to adopt him makes me sad”), tells rather than shows; the good/bad (rich/not-rich, environmentally conscious/oblivious) binary is off-putting in its borderline preachy obviousness.

Maybe I’ll give the first few books another try and/or skip to the last book? I don’t know yet.