(2) YA Bella deals with what feels like a million pressures: family, schoolwork, a breakup with a boyfriend who said she was "too much," and grief over the recent loss of her grandmother. Without a robust support system, Bella turns to alcohol to relieve the pressures and numb the pain; she had her first drink at eleven, and now, at fifteen, it's an addiction. She remains in denial about that addiction until it blows up in her face, landing her in a rehab program, where she must learn to confront and process her problems in a healthier way. Glasgow paints an empathetic portrait of a young woman struggling to cope with life, giving her ample depth and complexity. The first-person narrative offers a clear depiction of the character's subjective experiences of anxiety, depression, loss, and trauma as well as a nuanced exploration of the various factors that contribute to substance use disorders. Similarly, it recognizes the nonlinear nature of recovery and the contributors to relapse. Even as it acknowledges personal accountability and agency, it does not let the adults and peers who fail Bella off the hook. The story unflinchingly examines the darkness in life but ultimately brims with hope for intrapersonal change. An author's note connects the story to Glasgow's life; resources are also appended.

Reviewer: | Horn Book Magazine Issue: January, 2025

(3) YA Tiger is intensely close with her single mom, even if she bristles at times against her mom's overprotective tendencies. When her mother dies suddenly, Tiger is left absolutely bereft, struggling to find her way in the absence of her most foundational relationship. At times, the first-person narrative is almost claustrophobic in its intimacy, making for a painful but powerful evocation of grief and loss.

Reviewer: Norah Piehl

(3) YA Seventeen-year-old Charlie Davis cuts herself in a desolate attempt to stave off the cataclysm of trauma and pain. Chronicled in chapters of varying length, Charlie's journey struggling with abuse, loss, homelessness, and self-harm is one that gets worse before it gets better. Along the way, her intense first-person narration can be disconcerting but reliably embroiling.

Reviewer: Anastasia M. Collins