Artist Beatrix Adams knows exactly how she's spending the summer before her senior year. Determined to follow in Da Vinci's footsteps, she's ready to tackle the one thing that will give her an advantage in a museum-sponsored scholarship contest: drawing actual cadavers. But when she tries to sneak her way into the hospital's Willed Body program and misses the last metro train home, she meets a boy who turns her summer plans upside down.
Jack is charming, wildly attractive . . . and possibly one of San Francisco's most notorious graffiti artists. On midnight buses and city rooftops, Beatrix begins to see who Jack really is-and tries to uncover what he's hiding that leaves him so wounded. But will these secrets come back to haunt him? Or will the skeletons in Beatrix's own family's closet tear them apart?
|Publisher:||Feiwel & Friends|
|File size:||1 MB|
|Age Range:||12 - 17 Years|
About the Author
Jenn Bennett is the author of the Arcadia Bell urban fantasy series with Pocket and the Roaring 20's historical paranormal romance series with Berkley. She lives near Atlanta with one husband and two pugs.
Read an Excerpt
The Anatomical Shape of a Heart
By Jenn Bennett
Feiwel and FriendsCopyright © 2015 Jenn Bennett
All rights reserved.
The last train wasn't coming. It was almost midnight, and for the better part of an hour I'd been clutching my art portfolio and what was left of my pride at the university hospital Muni stop alongside a handful of premed students, an elderly Chinese woman wielding an umbrella like a weapon, a chatty panhandler named Will (who lived in the hospital parking garage), and an enthusiastic drunk street preacher who either wanted to warn us about a fiery apocalypse or sell us ringside tickets — maybe both.
"A two-car N-Judah train broke down in Sunset Tunnel," one of the medical students read off his phone. "Looks like we're stuck riding an Owl."
A collective groan passed through the group.
The dreaded all-nighter Owl bus.
After hours, when light-rail train service ends in San Francisco and most of the city is sleeping, Owl buses take over the surface routes. I'd ridden an Owl only once, right before summer break started. My older brother, Heath, had mistakenly tried to cheer me up with tickets to a sing-along of The Little Mermaid (glow sticks, shell bras) at the Castro Theatre, and after a midnight dinner at a greasy spoon, we'd missed our regular train. Owl buses are slower, dirtier, and filled with people leaving parties, clubs, and closed bars — automatically upping the chance of encountering fistfights and projectile vomit. Riding an Owl when Heath was with me was one thing; risking it alone was another, especially when no one knew where I was.
Yeah, I know. Not the brightest idea in the world, but I didn't have cab money on me. I chewed a hangnail and stared up at the fog clinging to the streetlight, hoping I didn't look as anxious as I felt.
Just for the record, I'm not supposed to take mass transit after 10:00 p.m. That's my mom's scientific cutoff for avoiding violent crime. It's not arbitrary. She's an RN and works graveyard at the ER right across the street three or four times a week (where she was at that very moment), so she knows exactly when the gunshot victims start wheeling in. And even though Heath has the same curfew, I'm plenty aware that my Victim Odds are higher because I'm small and female and not quite eighteen. So, sure, I might be a statistical easy target, but I don't usually prowl the city after midnight, giving my precious teenage life the middle finger. I mean, it's not like I was taking that big of a risk. It wasn't a bad part of town, and I'd been riding Muni since I was a kid. I also had pepper spray and an itchy trigger finger.
Besides, I was sneaking around for a good reason: to show my illustrations to the professor who runs the anatomy department and convince her to give me access to the Willed Body Program. At least, that was the original plan. But after waiting hours for someone who never showed, the whole thing was looking more like a stupid waste of time.
As the med students bet on the arrival time of the Owl bus, Panhandler Will gave me a little wave and made his way over. Fine by me. I'd feel safer with a familiar face between the drunken preacher and me; he was making me nervous when he breathed fire in my direction.
"Hey, man," Will said as he approached.
Man? Before I could answer, he'd shuffled on by as if he hadn't even seen me. Wow. Snubbed by a homeless guy. My night was getting better and better.
"What up, Willy?" a male voice answered cheerfully. "Pretty late for you to be working."
"Hospital rent-a-cops are making the rounds. Just waiting for them to clear out."
Curiosity got the better of me, so I turned around to see who'd snagged Will's attention — some shadowy guy leaning against a telephone pole. Will was blocking my view, so I couldn't make him out all that well, but the two of them chatted for a moment before Will even noticed me.
"Sad Girl," he said with a toothy grin. That's what he calls me, because he thinks I'm depressed. I'm not, by the way. I'm just pleasantly dour and serious, but it's hard to explain the difference to someone who sleeps in a cardboard lean-to. "How's it going?"
"Not that great," I said. "I don't have anything tonight." Sometimes I give him my change, but if I had any cash, I'd be in a taxi headed home by now.
"No worries. Your old lady treated me to dinner on her way in to work earlier."
That didn't surprise me. Maybe it was the nurse in her, but Mom had a thing about feeding everyone in her line of sight and was practically obsessed with leftovers; if it was larger than a grain of rice, it was either stored in the fridge, packed as part of someone's lunch, or distributed to neighbors, coworkers — and now, apparently, the ever-popular Panhandler Will, who had spotted someone else he knew and was already heading over to greet them, leaving me stranded with his shadowy friend.
Anyone had to be better than the street preacher. But it wasn't just anyone. It was a boy.
A boy about my age.
A really hot boy about my age.
Loose-limbed and slim, he slouched against the telephone pole, pushing away an unruly slash of dark hair that fell over one eye. He was dressed from head to toe in black, as if he'd landed a starring role in some Italian caper movie and was ready to break into a bank: jeans, snug jacket, knit hat pulled low. Tight black gloves covered his hands, and a scuffed backpack (probably filled with explosive devices for the bank safe) sat on the sidewalk against his leg.
It wasn't until the preacher started up again that I realized I'd been staring.
Together, along with the umbrella-wielding woman, we listened to the preacher's mumbled lines about salvation and light and something I couldn't hear and WHORES AND BEASTS AND FLAMES. Holy fire and brimstone, dude. My eardrums! I gripped my portfolio tighter, but a second later his tirade died down and he leaned against the back of the bus stop as if he might fall asleep.
"Doesn't look like much of a runner," the boy noted in a conspiratorial tone. Had he moved closer? Because, wow, he was tall. Most people were, from my petite, low-slung vantage point, but he must've had a good foot on me. "I think you can take him if he tries to swipe your case. Artwork?"
I glanced down at my portfolio as if I'd never seen it before. "Artwork, yes."
He didn't ask me why I was carrying artwork around a medical campus. He just squinted thoughtfully and said, "Hold on, let me guess. No still life or landscape. Your skeptical eyes say postmodern, but your boots say" — his gaze swept down my black skirt and the knee-high gray leather covering my calves — "savvy logo design."
"My boots say 'stood up for a meeting with the director of the anatomy lab.' Dr. Sheridan was supposed to meet me after her last lecture." It ran from 7:00 to 9:00 p.m., and after it was over, I'd waited and waited, watching a dwindling number of grad students exit the building. And even when she finally called to apologize at eleven and claimed she'd had a family emergency, I got the distinct feeling she was too proud to admit she'd forgotten.
"And my artwork isn't postmodern," I added. "I draw bodies."
That's my thing. I'm not one of those cool, creative kids in my art class who make skirts out of trash bags and paint in crazy colors. Not anymore, at least. For the past couple of years, I've limited myself to pencil and black ink, and I only draw bodies — old or young, male or female, it makes no difference to me. I like the way bones and skin move, and I like seeing how all the chambers in a heart fit together.
And right now, my anatomy-obsessed mind was appreciating the way my new acquaintance fit together, too. He was a walking figure study in beautiful lines and lean muscle, with miles of dark lashes, and cheekbones that looked strong enough to hold up his entire body.
"I'm the person who actually enjoyed dissecting the frog in ninth-grade biology," I clarified. Not to sound tragic, but that particular piece of trivia had never won me crowds of friends, so I'm not sure why I was tossing it on the table. I think I was just juiced up on a fizzy boy-candy rush.
He made a low whistling noise. "We had fetal pigs, but I got to opt out and do mine on the computer. Philosophical reasons."
He said this like he wanted me to ask what those reasons were, and I took the bait. "Let's see, squeamish about dead frogs —"
"Philosophically opposed," he corrected.
"Vegetarian," I guessed.
"A really bad one, but yes." He pointed to his coat collar. Pinned there was a small button that read BE HERE NOW.
I shook my head, confused.
"It's my philosophical excuse. Zen."
"You're a Buddhist?"
"A really bad one," he repeated. The corners of his mouth curled into an almost-smile. "By the way, how long ago was it that you dissected this frog? Four years? Two years ...?"
"Are you trying to guess my age?"
He smiled all the way this time, and one attractive dimple deepened in the hollow of his left cheek. "Hey, if you're in college, I'm totally fine with that. I dig older girls."
Me? College? I let out a high-pitched, neurotic laugh. What the hell was the matter with me? Thankfully, the bad muffler on a van turning the corner muted my hyena cackle. After it passed, I gestured toward him with the pepper spray canister attached to my keychain. "Why is a vegetarian Buddhist dressed like a jewel thief?"
"Jewel thief?" He peered down at himself. "Too much black?"
"Not if you're planning a heist. Then it's the perfect amount, especially if you have a Hamburglar mask in your pocket."
"Damn," he said, patting his jacket. "Knew I forgot something."
The sidewalk rumbled beneath my boot heels. I glanced up to see the digital N-OWL sign on the windshield of the bus that was pulling over to our stop. Cool white light glowed from the windows.
"Miracles of miracles," the boy murmured. "The Owl actually arrived."
I stood on tiptoes to see what I'd be dealing with. Looked like some seats were filled, but it wasn't sardine-packed. Yet.
A line was already forming at the curb, so I rushed to outpace the medical students and the drunken preacher. Was the boy getting on, too? Not wanting to appear obvious, I resisted the urge to turn around and, instead, dug out my monthly pass. One swipe over the reader at the door and I was inside, hoping I wasn't alone.CHAPTER 2
The first rule of riding public transportation late at night is to stick close to the driver, so I staked out a prime spot up front, on one of the long center-facing bench seats. You're supposed to reserve them for the handicapped, pregnant women, and the elderly, but since the woman with the umbrella had already claimed the adjoining seat on the other side of my pole, I wasn't too worried about it. I wedged my portfolio behind my calves, quickly scoping out the rest of the bus for any other risks. To my great relief, drunk preacher was nowhere in sight.
But someone else was.
As the bus doors squealed shut, hot boy plopped down across the aisle in the seat facing mine and tucked his backpack on the floor between his feet. He blew out a dramatic breath and slouched in his seat before jerking up a little, pretending to be surprised to see me. "You again."
"Your target seems to be in my neighborhood. I hope you're not planning to rob my house. We have no jewels, Mr. Burglar."
"'Jack the Burglar' has a nice ring to it. Maybe I should give some serious consideration to this career path."
Jack. Was that his actual name? Under the fluorescent glare of the bus lights, deep shadows etched the valleys of his cheeks and the crevice beneath his lower lip. He had a devil-may-care thing going on in the way he teasingly held back his smile.
"You knew the homeless guy, Will," I said, going into Sherlock Holmes mode as the bus rumbled away from the curb. "That means either you live around Parnassus or you've got a connection to either the hospital or the campus."
"I will eliminate one of those things for you," he said. "I don't live here."
"Hmm. Well, you're not going to med school."
"Let's not be judgmental. Some jewel thieves could have surgical skills."
"But you made that 'older girls' remark, which means you're in high school, like me —"
"Like you? A-ha!" he said merrily. "I'll be a senior this fall, by the way."
"Me too," I admitted. "So if you're not taking classes at Parnassus, I'm guessing you know someone who either goes to school here or works in the hospital. Or possibly you've been visiting someone in the hospital."
"Nicely logical, Sad Girl," he said. "Hold on. I wasn't the only person who knew Will. He said your 'old lady' gave him dinner, so he knows your mom. And since you're now worried I'm going to burgle your house —"
"'Burgle'? I don't think that's a real word."
"Sure it is. Burglar here, remember?" he said, raising a gloved hand. "Anyway, you and your mom might know Will, but you don't live near the hospital, either. Inner or Outer Sunset?"
"Yes," I said, avoiding a real answer.
Undaunted, he tried another approach. "You never said why you were meeting with the anatomy director who didn't show. Are you trying to get an internship or ...?"
"No, I was just trying to get permission to draw their cadavers."
One eye squinted shut. "As in corpses?"
"Bodies donated for science. I want to be a medical illustrator."
"Like, drawings in textbooks?"
I nodded. "And for pharmaceutical companies, medical research, labs ... it's super competitive. Only five accredited masters programs, and to get in those, you need any advantage you can get. A couple of local museums are cosponsoring a student drawing competition in late July, and I want to win it. There's scholarship money up for grabs, and a win would look good on my college applications."
"And drawing dead bodies will help you win?"
"Drawing dissected bodies will."
He made a face.
"Da Vinci drew cadavers," I said, using the same argument that had failed to win my mom's approval when I announced my intentions to follow in the Italian painter's footsteps. "So did Michelangelo. The Sistine Chapel panels are filled with hidden anatomical paintings. If you look closely at the pink shroud behind God in The Creation of Adam — you know, the one where God is reaching out to touch fingers with Adam? — the shroud is actually a diagram of a human brain."
"Wow. You weren't kidding about the frog thing, were you?"
"No." I scratched the back of my head; the pins holding up a tangle of braids above the nape of my neck were making me feel itchy. "All I want to do is draw cadavers after hours. I wouldn't be bothering anyone or getting in the way. But now I have to come back Wednesday before her lecture. Hopefully she actually shows this time." Was I talking too much? I wasn't sure, but I couldn't stop. I get chatty when I'm nervous. "At least next time I won't be risking my life on the Owl talking to strange boys."
"Feeling alive is always worth the risk."
"Feeling alive is merely a rush of adrenaline."
He chuckled, and then studied me for a moment. "You're an interesting girl."
"Says Jack the vegetarian Buddhist jewel thief."
His lazy grin was drop-dead dangerous.
You know, I always felt like I was pretty good at flirting — that it was the boys I'd flirted with who just weren't good flirtees. Jack, however, was an excellent flirtee, and my game was on fire tonight. His gaze flicked to my crossed legs ... specifically to the few inches of bare knee peeking between my skirt and boot.
Crap. He was definitely checking me out. What should I do? Earth to Beatrix: This was the night bus, not a Journey song. Two strangers were not on a midnight train going anywhere. I was going home, and he was probably going to knock over a liquor store.
When it came to romance, sometimes I was convinced I was cursed. Don't get me wrong: I'm not one of those "woe is me, I'm so plain Jane, no boys will ever look my way" kind of girls. Boys looked (like now). A few even stared (seriously, like right now). It was just when they got to know me — or saw my oddball medical artwork — that things usually went south.
Excerpted from The Anatomical Shape of a Heart by Jenn Bennett. Copyright © 2015 Jenn Bennett. Excerpted by permission of Feiwel and Friends.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
I was immediately drawn in to the story of Bex and Jack. The more I read, the more I wanted to read. I wanted to know everything there was to know about these two characters and I wanted things to work out for them so badly. Bex (which by the way, is an adorable nickname for Beatrix) is an artist and very serious minded person, which is sort of an oxymoron. Most artists are a little more fluid. This makes her character all the more interesting. That, and the subject of her artwork. I had never thought about who drew things like that before this book. Jack is an artist in his own way and has his own personal demons he's trying to overcome. The outlet of his artwork is more than just about him though, it's a way of connecting to someone close to him and letting that person feel connected back to him and the world around. The romance side of things was exciting and brings you right back to the moment of your own first love and how that felt. The rush of feelings and the fear and nerves and all of the racing emotions that go along with that. The author has perfectly captured those feelings and brought them to life on the page. The more serious aspects of the book, Bex relationship with her father, Jack's family drama, all of that only added to the story and the emotions while reading. When we come to the end of the story, there are things left open. We don't see answers to some of the questions we might have, but that lets the reader imagine how some things turned out and sometimes that's an amazing gift from the author. We get to imagine things the way we'd like them. I do wish there had been a way to actually see the final art piece that Bex made in the book. I would have loved to see how that came out. I think readers of YA contemporary romance and realistic fiction will really enjoy this book.
I love Jenn Bennett’s adult romance series so I was very curious about her writing young adult. I was very happy with this book; it had the quirky, interesting characters, great romance, and wonderful writing that Bennett is known for. I liked that Beatrix was different but didn’t consider herself the misunderstood, moody teenager. She was comfortable with who she was and didn’t feel like she didn’t belong in this world. She was very mature for her age, but considering I was the same way growing up I probably related very strongly to this part of her personality. I also liked the way Bennett portrayed the side characters in the book. For instance, Beatrix’s brother is an openly gay man but his character isn’t used to make a point or be a stereotype; he’s just a character. Bennett always does a great job with characterization so I felt like I really knew the characters as if they were real friends of mine. I also really liked Jack, though he was pretty perfect in that way that young adult romance heroes often are. But I was ok with that because it’s fiction and sometimes you want your characters to be better than regular people. The reasoning behind Jack’s graffiti was very sweet if a little misguided in terms of legalities but he just wanted to make his sister happy. Though Jack was reluctant to be in a serious relationship he was fascinated by Beatrix and there sweet romance was great to read. This book is very sex-positive with a very open and mature look at sex between teenagers. I respected how Bennett handled this topic as it can be very sensitive but often gets handled poorly in books for young adults. I loved the book but it didn’t have the same kick that Bennett’s adult romances have for me. This is purely personal preference and I think it mostly comes from not being a teenager anymore and struggling to really connect with young adult books. There was nothing wrong with Bennett’s writing or storytelling, I’m just looking for more adult characters now.
I loved this book!
This book was pretty amazing.
When Bex and Jack meet for the first time there is an insta-attraction. They are just two passing souls on a night train. Of course they both then go out of their way to try to run into each other again. But as the two characters continue to bump into each other, they deny their attraction for what I felt was an obnoxiously long time. Once Bex admits to herself and Jack that she's totally crushing things finally get cute. However, the happening of this ("All of me, or none of me!"...dude we hardly know each other) was weird and felt totally out of character for the Bex the author had already established. Jack was overly into Bex from the beginning. His emotions were SO intense, in a way that I found hard to be believable...but totally romantic. Author Bennett gave Jack such a deep history with his mentally ill twin, however, that it really did allow for his character to have deep, quick feelings. Once our two main characters are together, the romance is on like Donkey Kong. There is a tad bit of steam for our risque lovers and also a lot of adorable, flirty moments for our romance lovers. It was a good balance. The chemistry between them is spot on, albeit intense. Together they learn to trust each other and perhaps come to learn more about themselves as well. 'Shape of a Heart' is solid contemp romance pick. I personally don't think it will be memorable even a month from now, but if you are reader who really enjoys contemporary romance, YA reads with some normal, everyday drama, and characters we haven't quite seen before this is the book for you. 3 stars.
So good! I really really loved this one! Bex was such a different character and I loved how confident she was in her body and her dreams, but at the same time was still very much a teenage girl with a crush. And Jack was SO interesting too and different, and HELLA DREAMY. I loved how he was a Buddhist. That was just so unique, especially how it played into the story. The cast of characters surrounding Jack and Bex were just as real and grounded and felt so San Fran - I really need to visit. I'm a huge fan of Jenn's Roaring 20's romance series and was thrilled when I heard she was going to be writing a YA. It did not disappoint! She's clearly a talented author and I can't wait to see what she does next.
This book was so different! Yes, the main characters fell in love. And, yes, there was a gay brother and an absent father. But the rest of the story was refreshingly unique. Bex wants to be a medical illustrator. (Who knew that was even a job?) She is planning to enter an art contest at the end of the summer to win a scholarship for college, but she needs access to the medical college's cadaver lab to draw more accurately. She bumps into Jack one night on the train platform going home from her meeting with the professor at the college. Jack is a felon. He's been painting graffiti all over the city of San Francisco, and Bex is the only one who knows his secret. In addition, Jack can mysteriously pull strings to get Bex into the cadaver lab. They strike up an unusual friendship/romance. Some other unique elements were a matchmaking homeless man and Jack's religion: Zen Buddhism. The romance story was a bit predictable, but the other plot lines were not. The characters were great. The book was written in Bex's voice which was snarky and slightly self-deprecating. I loved her. I really wanted there to be visuals in the book of her art. It sounded so amazing. Romantic contemporaries can sometimes be too dull for me, but this book had enough going on besides the love story to keep me interested. In fact, I couldn't put this book down. I read 180 pages in the first day, and I really wanted to stay up to finish it. I may have if it hadn't been the beginning of the work week. http://www.momsradius.com/2016/01/book-review-anatomical-shape-of-heart-ya.html
THIS BOOK IS JUST.... AHHHH!!! I'm having so much trouble writing this review. I keep typing... then deleting... then typing again. SO FRUSTRATING!! It's really difficult to review this one because I feel like you have to actually read it for yourself to get the full feel of how awesome it is. My words will not do it justice, that is a fact. That being said, I will do my best to portray through my utterly inadequate words how over-the-top adorable this book is. Let's begin, shall we? The Anatomical Shape of a Heart is set in San Francisco. Beatrix (Bex, for short) is trying to weasel her way into winning a scholarship for college. Bex is an artist with a very unique style: she draws anatomical body parts. She tries her darnedest to sneak into a program at the local hospital where she would be able to draw actual cadavers. But when she misses the last train home from the hospital, she ends up on the Owl Bus, where she meets the attractive and mysterious Jack. Bex and Jack are not your typical YA contemporary couple. The two are intrigued by each other, yet don't cross that line of infatuation too quickly. Jack is eager to get to know Bex better right from the get-go. I loved his persistent to get her to notice him, despite her making it extremely difficult for him. In the beginning of the book, Bex was very standoffish and make Jack really beg for the little attention she did give him. At first I didn't understand why she acted that way, but after she realized a "secret" about Jack, I think that fact alone made her hesitant to get too close to him too quickly. I can completely understand where that tough girl persona came from, though I was happy to see it eventually shed and get to know the real Bex. Another thing about this book that I loved... FAMILY! Such strong family bonds were present in this story, and that's always wonderful to see. These parents were (mostly) very present in their children's lives, and they were also extremely supportive and understanding. They didn't let their kids get away with much either, setting boundaries and punishments when needed. (They also weren't perfect and made their fair share of mistakes themselves.) The parents actually being present in their children's lives is hard to come by in YA, and it was one of my favorite parts of this story. Also... the sibling relationships in this story were PERFECTION!! Bex's brother was HILARIOUS!! I so want more of that guy. ♥ The Anatomical Shape of a Heart was full-on adorableness at its finest. That alone earns it ALL THE STARS in my humble opinion! This story has everything you could want and expect from a YA contemporary. As a HUGE contemporary fan, trust me when I say this book has everything going for it. I think most people, even non-contemporary fans, would love this story and these characters. The friendships, family involvement, and gorgeous messages throughout this book are heartwarming and will leave you with the warm fuzzies feelings long after finishing. "A happy coincidence." He shook his head. "Everything's connected, Bex. Whether we understand it or not." I buddy read this book with the lovely Genesis, and together we were fangirling the entire time! This is definitely a fun book to buddy read with a friend. There are a few secrets that are fun to guess while reading. Plus all of the swooning over Jack's charming self made for some pretty fun conversation! If James Dean and David Beckham had a baby, it would be Jack. Amirite
I was a little unsure of this book because of the dead body part, but I LOVED THIS BOOK SO MUCH! I’m so glad I decided to review this book for Sunday Street Team. Thank you Netgalley for giving me a copy in exchange for a honest review. This book is definitely 5 out of 5 stars. This book really doesn’t have any slow parts. The writing and pacing was well done. The cover is simple, but super cute. I can’t believe this is the author’s first YA contemporary romance. She writes like a veteran of the genre. I can’t wait to read her next YA contemporary romance, whenever it comes out! As I stated earlier, I was a little hesitant to read this because of the cadavers, but thankfully they weren’t overwhelming in the book. The bodies are only “shown” a few times, and the details aren’t too gory. If I can handle it, I think anyone can. The rest of the story overpowers the slight grossness of the dead bodies. The romance was definitely believable, and I adored it. Bex and Jack are so cute! Jack has definitely been added to my book boyfriend list. I love, love, love him so much! He’s such a sweetheart and he’s pretty hot too. What a great combination! I squealed a few times while reading the book because I couldn’t contain my feels. A couple of my favorite lines from the book were: “When the jacket stood back up, it grew arms and legs and a face that probably competed with Helen of Troy’s in the ship-launching department.” and “‘Do you ride?’ That sounded sort of dirty, and the way he looked at me felt sort of dirty, too. No one ever looked at me like that.” Final note: This was such a fantastic book. I almost instantaneously pre-ordered a hardcover copy after I finished the ARC. I’d highly recommend this to anyone who loves YA contemporary romance, or just a book in general that’ll give you some amazing feels. I almost wish I hadn’t read it yet, just so I could experience it again for the first time.