Friday I'm in Love - Softcover

Garrett, Camryn

Softcover

ISBN 10: 0593435133 ISBN 13: 9780593435137

Verlag: Random House Children's Books, 2024

Inhaltsangabe

It's too late for a Sweet Sixteen, but what if Mahalia had a coming-out party? A love letter to romantic comedies, sweet sixteen blowouts, Black joy, and queer pride.

“A perfect ode to romantic comedies, wrapped in a dazzling rainbow dress.” —Rachael Lippincott, #1 New York Times bestselling author of Five Feet Apart and She Gets the Girl

Mahalia Harris wants.

She wants a big Sweet Sixteen like her best friend, Naomi.
She wants the super-cute new girl Siobhan to like her back.
She wants a break from worrying—about money, snide remarks from white classmates, pitying looks from church ladies . . . all of it.

Then inspiration strikes: It’s too late for a Sweet Sixteen, but what if she had a coming-out party? A singing, dancing, rainbow-cake-eating celebration of queerness on her own terms.

The idea lights a fire beneath her, and soon Mahalia is scrimping and saving, taking on extra hours at her afterschool job, trying on dresses, and awkwardly flirting with Siobhan, all in preparation for the coming out of her dreams. But it’s not long before she’s buried in a mountain of bills, unfinished schoolwork, and enough drama to make her English lit teacher blush. With all the responsibility on her shoulders, will Mahalia’s party be over before it’s even begun?

A novel about finding yourself, falling in love, and celebrating what makes you you.

“Mahalia’s story lives, breathes and glows. I’m in love with it every day of the week!” —Becky Albertalli, #1 New York Times bestselling author of Simon vs. the Homosapiens Agenda

Über diesen Titel

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

CAMRYN GARRETT grew up in New York and began her writing career at thirteen, when she was selected as a TIME for Kids reporter, interviewing celebrities like Warren Buffett and Kristen Bell. Since then, her writing has appeared on MTV and in HuffPost and Rookie magazine, and she was recently selected as one of Teen Vogue’s “21 Under 21: Girls Who Are Changing the World.” When she’s not writing, she studies film at NYU, and she’s a proud advocate for diverse stories and storytellers in any medium. Her first two novels, Full Disclosure and Off the Record, received rave reviews from outlets such as EW, Glamour, and SLJ, which said, in its starred review, “Readers will fall in love.” Friday I'm in Love is her third novel and first rom-com.

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CHECKING ACCOUNT BALANCE: $300

-$50 for Naomi’s present


CHAPTER 1


It’s Mom’s idea to drive me to Naomi’s Sweet Sixteen.

If you’re thinking it’s because I can’t drive, the San Diego Department of Motor Vehicles would disagree--it doesn’t matter that I had to take the test three times. I have my license. And yet, I still barely get to drive when I want to. Like right about now.

“You know,” I say. “If I’d had a Sweet Sixteen, Naomi would have driven to it by herself.”

“Mahalia.”

Mom presses her lips tightly together. She never takes her eyes off the road when she’s driving, so I can roll my eyes all I want and get away with it. But honestly, it’s just not as fun when she’s not looking at me, so I stare down at my lap instead. Naomi’s gift is at my feet, shoved in a sparkly bag we got from the dollar store. It’s just a dress from Forever 21, but I had to use a good amount of gas money to buy it. I hope it doesn’t look as cheap as it feels.

“We’ve discussed this multiple times,” Mom adds. “There wasn’t any money for you to have a party. Not this year.”

Don’t be a brat, don’t be a brat--

“But you said I could have one,” I say, folding my arms. “Remember? You said I could have a gigantic party when I turned sixteen because you never got to have one.”

“When you were six,” Mom fires back. “Things were different when you were six.”

I duck my head again, chagrined. Mom is right. Things were different when I was six--we had way less money. It’s taken her a long time to get us to where we are. But sometimes I want more. And I always feel like a total asshole about it.

A strand of hair blows into my mouth and I spit it out. The windows are down because Mom is anti-AC, and I like the way the breeze blows my hair everywhere. It’s not coarse enough to stick up in an Afro, but not soft enough for me to wear like white girls do, so it’s sort of this frizzy mop that I braid every night to keep contained and take out every morning. At least I had the sense to wear a headband.

“Anyway, a girl doesn’t need a party,” Mom says. “There are bills to pay, Mahalia. Rent and electric and heat and food, all these bills. Would you rather have had your party and then starved for the rest of the year?”

I mean, it would’ve been nice to have the party.

“It doesn’t sound so bad,” I finally settle on, trying to coax a laugh out of her. “We wouldn’t be out on the street or anything. We could live with Dad.”

Mom makes this sound like pshh.

“Okay,” I say. Maybe not the best joke. When Dad and his girlfriend had my younger half sister, Reign, he “forgot” to pay child support for six months. I doubt he’d feed us for a year. “But I’m sure it wouldn’t have been a big deal. You always say the Lord provides, right?”

“Not for foolish things,” she says. “The Lord provides us with what we need.”

“Does He?” I try to make my voice light, but it’s hard. “Then why don’t we have a house? Or a college fund for me? Or money for you to go back to college?”

Mom’s hands tighten on the steering wheel.

“God isn’t a genie. You know that,” she says. “You don’t rub a Bible and wait for three wishes.”

I snort. She looks at me out of the corner of her eye and smiles a little. For a second, I think it’s over, we’ve moved past the whole God thing. But then--

“The Lord gave us bodies to work,” she says. “He led me to the nursing home job when I--when we--needed it most. He gave you the brains to find a great scholarship for next fall. The Lord helps those who help themselves. Remember that, okay?”

I kind of hate talking about God with Mom, mostly because it seems like the rules change all the time; from person to person, even from Sunday to Sunday at the church we’ve been going to since I was little. Everything about it feels too convenient. The Lord will provide, but not too much. The Lord forgives us for our sins, but sinning is bad and we should never do it.

At church, when Pastor Solomon says, “The devil is alive in this country today,” Mom’s “Amen” is just as loud as the word of God. She always says the devil is the cause of temptation and the one who tries to lead us away from the Lord and that’s why she got pregnant when she was seventeen. Not because Dad was convincing and Mom was horny.

Part of me wants to say Mom is the reason why she got that job, not God. But I know that would just start a fight. Instead, I reach for the radio. She smacks my hand away and switches on one of her Christian hip-hop CDs. I groan dramatically.

“Oh please,” Mom says over the funky beats. “I know you love this.”

Some of the songs are catchy. But then I have Bible verses stuck in my head for the rest of the day and feel like a heathen for not believing in them.

Thank God the big, ornate columns of the restaurant are coming up on the left--an all-white building right on the water. Gigantic windows look out over the beach. It’s the type of venue only Naomi’s parents could afford. The type of venue I wish I could’ve had for my nonexistent party.

But it doesn’t matter anymore. It’s too late for me to have a Sweet Sixteen and there’s no such thing as a Sweet Seventeen. The next-best big party to look forward to is, like, a wedding or funeral.

Mom stops in front of the restaurant and I’m pretty sure I’m gaping. There are people dressed up in uniforms, taking coats and parking cars. It’s crazy.

“Be good,” Mom says, pinching my cheek. “I don’t want to hear that you were being disrespectful to Mr. and Mrs. Sanders. Understand?”

I stick my tongue out at her. She’s mostly kidding--I’m at Naomi’s house all the time and I’m pretty sure I see her parents more than I see my own mother, but I don’t say that. It’s not her fault that the nursing home gives her these insane hours. She’s wearing her scrubs now, and for a second, my brain flashes forward, seeing the way she slowly shuffles into our apartment after a twelve-hour shift like she hasn’t had the chance to sit all day.

“Mahalia?”

People dressed in high heels and suit jackets are already heading inside. I barely recognize any of the faces, but I’m pretty sure they don’t shop at Forever 21. My spine stiffens. This isn’t going to be like hanging out at Naomi’s house after school.

Mom nudges me forward.

“Be good,” she says again as I open the door. “I love you.”

“Bye, Mom.” I force myself to swallow. “Love you, too.”

I step out of her beat-up car and don’t look back.


CHECKING ACCOUNT BALANCE: $250


CHAPTER 2


When Naomi and her parents first started planning her party, I was so excited, it could’ve been my own. I wanted to go with her to try on dresses and pick out invitations and talk about what music she’d play. Along the way, I guess I forgot that I wouldn’t be the only guest here.

Naomi is my best friend, but she’s a lot better at the social part of friendship. I know a lot of people because we go to school together,...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: Random House Children's Books
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2024
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 0593435133
• ISBN 13: 9780593435137
• Einband: Taschenbuch
• Anzahl der Seiten: 288
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: Nicht verfügbar
• Verantwortliche Person: Nicht verfügbar