ALA Booklist (Wed Jul 06 00:00:00 CDT 2022)

Delacre's beloved 16-year-old daughter died in a car crash four years ago. In her first novel, the picture-book artist has fictionalized the words of 13 of Alicia's real-life friends and family members, who talk about their grief and anger in a series of terse, third-person accounts. The spare interior monologues create a vivid collage portrait of the dynamic teen. The friends speak about how they met her and what they did together, from text-messaging to dancing, as well as the mementos they have of her mischief and loving support. The memories are of both small moments and big events, such as Alicia's quinceañera. Mamá feels guilt (how does a parent balance freedom and protection?), and also anger at "The Driver," a teen date who is never named and whose recklessness caused the crash. Every view of Alicia is perfect ("there isn't anyone who doesn't like her"), but idealization is part of the grieving process. With its messages about healing and a list of appended resources, this is an excellent title for grief counseling.

Horn Book (Wed Jul 06 00:00:00 CDT 2022)

After the accidental death of her teenage daughter, Alicia, Delacre interviewed Alicia's friends and loved ones and spun their personal memories into this intimate novel. The fictionalized voices celebrating Alicia's life are memorable and distinctive. Occasional black-and-white illustrations appear in the margins or otherwise frame the text. Resources for teen grief counseling and safe driving are appended. Reading list, websites.

Kirkus Reviews (Wed Jul 06 00:00:00 CDT 2022)

After Alicia Betancourt died in a car accident in 2004, her mother, picture-book illustrator Delacre, put together this collection of thoughts and memories of Alicia from her friends and family. Each shares recollections of Alicia and how she influenced his or her life with her upbeat personality—which is the crux of this book's problem. Alicia may have been a kind friend, a talented dancer and hugely compassionate, but while these traits make for a spectacular human being, they also make for a frankly boring protagonist. Viewed only through the eyes of those who loved her, Alicia comes across as a flawless angel (a description used more than once), someone the reader can never hope to relate to or even aspire to emulate. It's easy to see that Alicia's friends and family adored her, but that love comes across on the page as slushy, full of stilted dialogue. This lovely tribute to Alicia's memory is neither thought-provoking nor especially interesting for the general reader. (Nonfiction. 12 & up)

Publishers Weekly (Fri Oct 06 00:00:00 CDT 2023)

In her first YA book, picture book artist Delacre (<EMPHASIS TYPE=""ITALIC"">Arroz con leche) seizes upon an intimate subject: the death of her 16-year-old daughter, Alicia, in a car crash. Writing of herself as Mamá, she views Alicia through the eyes of friends, classmates and other girls on the Poms dance squad, all of whom Delacre interviewed. Invariably they describe a exuberant and congenial teen, a girl whose worst flaw is a tendency to trick her way out of eating her spinach. Delacre says she hopes to bring comfort to teens struggling with their own sudden losses, but it may be difficult for teens to identify with these idealized relationships. On the other hand, Alicia's friends express their grief realistically and without platitudes: one pretends that she and Alicia have simply lost touch; another finds that talking about Alicia makes it worse. Bereaved readers will be encouraged that whatever their approaches, all of the individuals (including the driver responsible for the crash) eventually begin to feel better without forgetting their friend. Ages 12–up. <EMPHASIS TYPE=""ITALIC"">(Sept.)

School Library Journal (Wed Jul 06 00:00:00 CDT 2022)

Gr 7 Up-Delacre has dedicated this slim volume to "all grieving teens," and while it is published as a work of fiction, the author's note explains that her 16-year-old daughter did, in fact, die in a car accident in 2004. She relates how her mourning process involved interviewing many of Alicia's friends about their relationship with the pint-sized, exuberant Puerto Rican American. Resources on teen grief and teen-driver safety, as well as a photo of Alicia, are appended. Though the point of view shifts from chapter to chapter, the narrative begins and ends with Alicia's mother, starting with the fateful night of the teen's date with a boy who speeds, loses control, and crashes into a telephone pole, killing her instantly. The chapters that focus on her friends, including the driver who survives the crash, don't provide any kind of cohesive narrative, reporting instead memories and events that form a two-dimensional portrait of Alicia: a perfect angel of a daughter, a true and fun-loving friend, a gifted dancer, and someone who always gave more than she took. Throughout the book, faint line sketches appear like shadows beneath the text. While reading the 13 nearly indistinguishable teen accounts of Alicia might be good bibliotherapy for those who have suffered a loss, this afterimage turns into an overexposure of pain that appeals to a sense of pathos without providing satisfaction as fiction. Suzanne Gordon, Peachtree Ridge High School, Suwanee, GA