That's why we've added a new "Diverse Representations" section to our reviews that will be rolling out on an ongoing basis. Great debut novel with some very original elements that are unique from other YA novels of the same trope. But the issue lays with his eyes already being on someone else—and the fact that he still thinks of her as “Little Liz. Not going to lie, I did a little happy dance in my kitchen when I saw the deputy slide that ticket underneath Wes’s windshield wiper.

In the book, Hemingway penned a left-leaning interpretation of the proto-noir movement of the 1930s, imagining a struggling sea captain with a family who resorts to murder and a life of crime while making ends meet between Cuba and Key West. You would think that her next-door neighbor would be a prince candidate for her romantic comedy fantasies, but Wes has only proven himself to be a pain in the butt, ever since they were little.The more Liz schemes with him, the more she’s forced to examine the difference between what she thinks is good for herself and what actually is— and part of facing that means facing her past. See, Wes Bennett and I were enemies in a no-holds-barred, full-on war over the one available parking spot on our end of the street. Joss threw me a side-glance between cleaning up each eye with a cotton swab as we walked into the bathroom.

I’ve been to Ryno’s, and it’s all about beer bongs, Fireball, and that never-have-I-ever kind of immature stuff. In grade school, Wes was the guy who’d put a frog in my Barbie DreamHouse and a decapitated lawn gnome’s severed head in my homemade Little Free Library. The parking ticket was now on my car, stuck to the middle of the windshield with clear packing tape that was impossible to see through. I got out of the car and tried to pry up a corner with my fingernail, but the edges had all been solidly flattened down. But there’s also a lot of awkward scenes of Samwise giving Frodo strawberry-scented bubble baths and a LOT of hobbit songs and poetry.I heard Wes laugh, and when I leaned down to glare at him out the passenger window, his front door slammed shut. It was supposed to be poster-board promposals, matching corsages, speechless awe over the way you look in your dress, and sweet kisses under the cheesy disco ball.