Review by Booklist Review
Two girls from different backgrounds meet in a mental health treatment center and, after a rocky start, become supportive friends in this compelling psychological drama. Colombian American Camila has finally been accepted into her dream dance academy, only to learn that her parents spent her tuition money. As dancing is her reason for living, this leads Camila to attempt suicide. Wealthy, high-achieving Dani is sick of living up to her politician mother's performative vision of Black excellence. She relaxes with drugs and alcohol and, after taking things too far, lands at Peach Tree Hills, where she rooms with Camila. Neither believes therapy will help--Camila is convinced she's broken, and Dani doesn't think she has problems with addiction--but that changes as they learn to undo the toxic patterns that led them to this point. Both teens narrate in the first person, giving an intimacy and immediacy to their struggles with depression and addiction that feel authentic. This may be triggering for some teens but a lifesaver for others, as the bittersweet ending is hopeful while acknowledging that recovery is rarely straightforward.
From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review
Using insightful prose, Kuehn's (When I Am Through with You) haunting novel follows two teens struggling to connect while recovering from individual mental health challenges. Mexican and Colombian Camila Ortiz and Black Danielle Washington are roommates at rural Georgia's Peach Tree Hills, a mental health treatment facility for adolescent girls. After a recent suicide attempt left her hospitalized and subsequently admitted to PTH for treatment, withdrawn Cami, a dancer, is resigned. Dani, a frequent partier from Dallas political royalty who was admitted for drug dependency, doesn't believe she belongs at the facility, and her festering resentment for her mother impacts her substance use rehabilitation. The girls feel as if they have nothing in common, but when they discover letters inside a music box from a former resident and decide to investigate the writer's identity, their search prompts them to share personal stories from their pasts. And as they grow closer, the teens realize that the road to recovery doesn't look the same for everyone. The girls' sincere alternating perspectives, and the compassionate health professionals that facilitate their treatments, provide hope to Cami and Dani's respective journeys. A beginning note contextualizes instances of suicide, substance dependency, and self-harm. Ages 14--up. Agent: Michael Bourret, Dystel, Goderich & Bourret. (June)
(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Review by Horn Book Review
Dani is a sixteen-year-old debutante whose "life revolved around Black cotillion and Black society and Black choir," until she started to rebel by drinking and using drugs. Camila is a Latina teen dancer who secretly self-harms, believing that "it's not through sacrifice one finds salvation. It's through suffering." After online photos of an intoxicated Dani embarrass her parents and Camila attempts suicide following the news that her family can't afford dance school, both girls are admitted to Peach Tree Hills Treatment Facility, where they become roommates. Assigned to clean out a storage shed, they find a set of letters from a past resident that initiates a personal journey for each of them toward wellness and imbues the recovery narrative with a hint of mystery. In alternating chapters, each girl shares the story of her treatment: brooding Camila looks inward; brash Dani is argumentative. While the detailed dialogues between Dani and her psychiatrist (who is also Black) can occasionally feel didactic, they also underscore the importance of culturally relevant therapy in supporting patients of color. (Kuehn, When I Am Through with You, rev. 9/17, is a clinical psychologist herself.) Fans of Emily X.R. Pan (The Astonishing Color of After, rev. 5/18; An Arrow to the Moon, rev. 5/22) and Amy Reed (The Boy and Girl Who Broke the World) will be drawn into Camila's and Dani's healing processes. Jennifer Hubert Swan July/August 2022 p.126(c) Copyright 2022. The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
(c) Copyright The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Review by Kirkus Book Review
Two teenage girls' paths intersect at a low point in their lives, but where they go from there is anything but certain. Danielle Washington and Camila Ortiz meet at Peach Tree Hills, a suburban residential treatment facility for adolescent girls outside Atlanta, where they're roommates as well as the only brown-skinned girls. Originally from a well-off Black political family in Dallas, Dani's relationship to addiction and dependency is the primary focus of her recovery, but her resentment toward her mother and how that impacts her sense of self is complicated even further by learning to be honest with herself. Similarly, Cams has self-harm tendencies that her Latin American parents--one a Colombian immigrant and one Mexican American--in small-town Georgia have struggled with for some time. Kuehn is careful not to offer easy answers for why both girls find themselves in overlapping and distinct moments of despair and desperation, self-harm and self-sabotage, but the connections among family, race, and the widespread societal harm inflicted upon young girls in particular are presented thoughtfully in the dueling narrations of these two deeply intelligent and expressive teens. Dani and Cams complement each other well as earnest storytellers and, eventually, reluctant friends, but their experiences are as raw as their struggles may feel futile. Still, the professionals in the novel provide a tremendous and optimistic amount of care. An insightful, grounded, and compassionately messy meditation on adolescence, institutional support, and helping oneself. (content warning, resource list) (Fiction. 13-19) Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
