Entrancingly eccentric prose, a protagonist "jam-packed with awkward" and a military sister missing in action coalesce into a memorable romance that's rockier than might be expected--and more realistic. Fat Angie's sister, "the fulcrum of their family machine," was captured nine months ago and shown "on Iraqi television, tied to a chair, blindfolded and bruised." Family, national news and everyone in Dryfalls, Ohio, presume she's dead--except Fat Angie. After a very public meltdown, Fat Angie faces bullying at school and "all kinds of weird sadness" at home, including maternal comments like "No one is ever going to love you if you stay fat." Into this anguish materializes KC Romance, a slang-talking new girl in combat boots and skull-and-crossbones fishnets. She defends Fat Angie; she likes Fat Angie; she calls her, simply, Angie. Angie falls "heart-forward into KC's dark eyes," and the girls are "gay-girl gay" together (their affectionate term). But Angie's tongue-tied, and KC has secret pain; a "sad awkward" keeps cropping up. Like their relationship, and like Angie's lionhearted attempt to emulate her missing sister's backbone on the basketball court, Charlton-Trujillo's prose has a peppery flavor, pointedly carbonated ("You break it. You know? My heart") and wryly funny. Unfortunately, fatness is a misery symbol--it's post–weight-loss, "not-so-plump Angie" who finds happiness. Creative prose and sharp interactions, marred only by some stereotyping; a fresh read nevertheless. (Fiction. 12-16)

Angie is fat. And miserable. And she has her reasons. Her sister, a star basketball player turned soldier, has been captured in Afghanistan. Everyone thinks she's dead. Angie's lawyer mother busies herself with work. Her adopted Korean brother busies himself being obnoxious. And Angie goes around wearing her sister's too-small b-ball T-shirt, trying to stay out of the mean girls' way. At one point, she tries to slit her wrists and comes out bleeding onto the basketball court. Then KC comes to town. Cool and cute, she makes a beeline for Angie and no one can figure out why (including the reader). But as the world turns, so do the pages, and Angie decides maybe she can play varsity basketball like her sister, and maybe she can have a "gay-girl-gay" relationship with KC though KC's cutting gets in the way. Some of the characters don't push much beyond stereotype, but Angie's anguish and the dysfunction of her family seem quite real. As the story spins toward its conclusion, elements may seem preordained, but the emotion with which they're infused gives them new life.

Gr 9 Up-A father who abandoned the family. A couldn't-be-bothered mother. An adopted brother who is a criminal in the making. A high school full of peers who relentlessly tease her following a failed suicide attempt at a basketball game. And the only person who really understands her-her older sister-is being held hostage in Iraq and is believed to be dead by everyone except Angie. This is Angie's life. Then a gorgeous, punk-rock chick with a mysterious past, KC Romance, begins taking an interest in her. While the teen toys with the idea that she may be "gay-girl gay," she also begins to channel her pain and uncertainty by making her sister, a former state champion, proud by trying out for the varsity basketball team. Not only does Angie make the team, but she also leads it to a pivotal win. She returns home from the game to discover that her sister's body has been found. An explosive confrontation with her mother following the burial leads her to begin to see her otherwise-cold mother through a new lens. The author ends the story with no resolution in Angie's relationships with her mother and KC, leading readers to forge their own conclusions. The voice of a dry and direct third-person narrator works in a story laden with heavy topics, including war, death, suicide, cutting, bullying, and homosexuality.— Nicole Knott, Watertown High School, CT