The summer i turned pretty trilogy by jenny han · 3 Comments bestthing.info bestthing.info Read The Summer I Turned Pretty (Summer #1) online free from your iPhone, iPad, android, Pc, Mobile. The Summer I Turned Pretty is a Young Adult novel by . Belly has an unforgettable summer in this stunning start to the Summer I Turned Pretty series from the New York Times bestselling author of To All the Boys I've Loved Before (soon to be a major motion picture!), Jenny Han. Year after year, she's spent her summers at the beach.
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Jenny Han is the New York Time Bestselling author of The Summer I Turned Pretty series. A former children's bookseller and school librarian, she earned her . Summer love abounds in the New York Times bestselling The Summer I Turned Pretty series from Jenny Han about a girl who must choose between two. This books (The Summer I Turned Pretty [PDF]) Made by Jenny Han About Books The Summer I Turned Pretty Belly has spent her summers at.
If you ever get your license, he scoffed.
The Summer I Turned Pretty
Hey, look, I said, pointing out the window. That guy in a wheelchair just lapped us! Steven ignored me, and so I started to fiddle with the radio. One of my favorite things about going to the beach was the radio stations. I was as familiar with them as I was with the ones back home, and listening to Q94 made me just really know inside that I was there, at the beach.
I found my favorite station, the one that played everything from pop to oldies to hip-hop. I sang right along with him. Loves horses and her boyfriend too. Steven reached over to switch stations, and I slapped his hand away. Belly, your voice makes me want to run this car into the ocean. He pretended to swerve right. I sang even louder, which woke up my mother, and she started to sing too.
We both had terrible voices, and Steven shook his head in his disgusted Steven way. He hated being outnumbered. It was what bothered him most about our parents being divorced, being the lone guy, without our dad to take his side. I loved this drive, this moment. It held a million promises of summer and of what just might be. As we got closer and closer to the house, I could feel that familiar flutter in my chest.
We were almost there. I rolled down the window and took it all in. The air tasted just the same, smelled just the same. The wind making my hair feel sticky, the salty sea breeze, all of it felt just right. Like it had been waiting for me to get there. My mother stuck her head in between our two seats.
Belly, do you still like Conrad? From the looks of things last summer, I thought there might be something between you and Jeremiah. You and Jeremiah? Steven looked sickened. What happened with you and Jeremiah? Nothing, I told them both. I could feel the flush rising up from my chest. I wished I had a tan already to cover it up. Please never bring that up again.
My mother leaned back into the backseat. Done, she said.
Because he was Steven, he tried anyway. Get over it, I told him. Telling Steven anything would only give him ammunition to make fun of me.
And anyway, there was nothing to tell. There had never been anything to tell, not really. Beck was Susannah Fisher, formerly Susannah Beck. My mother was the only one who called her Beck. And they had the scars to prove it—identical marks on their wrists that looked like hearts. Susannah told me that when I was born, she knew I was destined for one of her boys.
She said it was fate. Actually, she said lovers, but that word made me cringe. Susannah put her hands on my cheeks and said, Belly, you have my unequivocal blessing.
For me, Cousins was less about the town and more about the house. The house was my world. We had our own stretch of beach, all to ourselves. The summer house was made up of lots of things. The wraparound porch we used to run around on, jugs of sun tea, the swimming pool at night—but the boys, the boys most of all. I always wondered what the boys looked like in December. I tried to picture them in cranberry-colored scarves and turtleneck sweaters, rosy-cheeked and standing beside a Christmas tree, but the image always seemed false.
I did not know the winter Jeremiah or the winter Conrad, and I was jealous of everyone who did.
The Summer I Turned Pretty
I got flip-flops and sunburned noses and swim trunks and sand. But what about those New England girls who had snowball fights with them in the woods? The ones who snuggled up to them while they waited for the car to heat up, the ones they gave their coats to when it was chilly outside. Well, Jeremiah, maybe.
Not Conrad. Counting the days until summer again. Summer was what mattered. My whole life was measured in summers. Conrad was the older one, by a year and a half. He was dark, dark, dark. Completely unattainable, unavailable. He had a smirky kind of mouth, and I always found myself staring at it. Smirky mouths make you want to kiss them, to smooth them out and kiss the smirkiness away. Or maybe not away … but you want to control it somehow.
Make it yours.
It was exactly what I wanted to do with Conrad. Make him mine. Jeremiah, though—he was my friend. He was nice to me. He was the kind of boy who still hugged his mother, still wanted to hold her hand even when he was technically too old for it. Jeremiah Fisher was too busy having fun to ever be embarrassed.
I bet Jeremiah was more popular than Conrad at school. I bet the girls liked him better. He would just be quiet, moody Conrad, not a football god. And I liked that. I liked that Conrad preferred to be alone, playing his guitar. Like he was above all the stupid high school stuff. When we finally pulled up to the house, Jeremiah and Conrad were sitting out on the front porch. I leaned over Steven and honked the horn twice, which in our summer language meant, Come help with the bags, stat.
Conrad was eighteen now. He was taller than last summer, if you can believe it. His hair was cut short around his ears and was as dark as ever. When he was younger, it was curly yellow, almost platinum in the summer. Jeremiah hated his curls. For a while, Conrad had him convinced that crusts made your hair curly, so Jeremiah had stopped eating sandwich crusts, and Conrad would polish them off. As Jeremiah got older, though, his hair was less and less curly and more wavy. I missed his curls. Susannah called him her little angel, and he used to look like one, with his rosy cheeks and yellow curls.
He still had the rosy cheeks. I sat in the car and watched Steven amble up to them and hug the way guys do. The air smelled salty and wet, like it might rain seawater any second. I pretended to be tying the laces on my sneakers, but really I just wanted a moment to look at them, at the house for a little while, in private. The house was large and gray and white, and it looked like most every other house on the road, but better.
It looked just the way I thought a beach house should look. It looked like home.
Hey, Laurel. Usually she came flying out of the house the second our car pulled up. My mother walked over to them in about three strides, and she hugged them both, tightly. She disappeared into the house with her sunglasses perched on the top of her head. I got out of the car and slung my bag over my shoulder. But then they did. They really did. Conrad gave me a quick glance-over the way boys do at the mall. He had never looked at me like that before in my whole life.
Not once. I could feel my flush from the car return. Jeremiah, on the other hand, did a double take. All of this happened in the span of about three seconds, but it felt much, much longer. Conrad hugged me first, but a faraway kind of hug, careful not to get too close.
He smelled like the ocean. He smelled like Conrad. I liked you better with glasses, he said, his lips close to my ear. He smiled at me, and that smile—he just gets in. His smile did it every time.
I think you got a few new ones, he said, tapping me on the nose. He knew how self-conscious I was about my freckles and he still teased me every time.
The Summer I Turned Pretty
Then Jeremiah grabbed me next, and he almost lifted me into the air. Jeremiah laughed loudly. He cocked his head and said, Something looks different about you, Belly.
I braced myself for the punch line. I got contacts. I went back to the car then, and the boys followed me. We unloaded the car quickly, and as soon as we were done, I picked up my suitcase and my book bag and headed straight for my old bedroom. It had faded calico wallpaper and a white bedroom set. There was a music box I loved. When you opened it, there was a twirling ballerina that danced to the theme song from Romeo and Juliet , the old-timey version.
I kept my jewelry in it. Everything about my room was old and faded, but I loved that about it. It felt like there might be secrets in the walls, in the four-poster bed, especially in that music box. Considering this book centered around a love triangle, I couldn't see any of the chemistry between Belly with either boys.
They all seem tropeish and contrived. In fact, alot of the characters felt like tropes. They felt incredibly one dimensional, which is such a shame, because I was really expecting more from Jenny Han on that front.
While I enjoyed the pacing, it did feel like nothing was happening throughout the book. At times I had to ask myself what was the purpose of this book. I couldn't understand why this story and these characters had been stretched out into a trilogy. It definitely could've been condensed a lil'.
However, the reason why I bumped this book up to a 3 star rating, when I spent the majority of the book thinking it'd be a 2 star read at most, was because of the other relationships and dynamics in this book. What I love about Jenny Han, is her incorporation of family relationships and how she deals with them. I also appreciated the way Jenny Han wrapped the story up. The things that seemed out of place finally made more sense. I didn't expect to feel as many things as I did considering how distant I felt from the characters throughout the book.
It's Not Summer Without You: 3. While Belly was still immature and whiny, it was a lot more bearable. I think because we got to know the characters more, they became more realistic, more fully fleshed out and less tropish. But this again brings me back to my feeling that had these books should've been condensed.
The character development and overarching story would've flowed better. What set this book apart from the previous one was the adult characters. They absolutely shined in this book. There were a couple of times where I actually gasped because I could not believe how badass they were, specifically Belly's mum. Not only that, I think this book went a lil deeper in terms of themes and what it was about than the previous one.
This book was a little bit more serious in tone, which I was definitely a fan of. I loved seeing how all the characters were dealing with grief. Overall, I just thought this book was better than the previous one both in terms of story and execution.
However, there were quite a few time jumps in this, which although I appreciated, I also felt were ruining the flow of the story and annoying to follow at times. We also got introduced to Jeremiah, one of the boy's, P.To be fair, there were some great moments of real maturity and growth that had me very hopeful, but every now and then she'd say something or think something and I'd have to roll my eyes. There would be rain tomorrow, but that night there were cool breezes and that was it.
No, I snapped. In the car Susannah kept smiling at me in the rearview mirror. I didn't expect to feel as many things as I did considering how distant I felt from the characters throughout the book.