Genre: Young Adult
Grayson was thirteen when her aunt and uncle died, leaving an emptiness that shattered the family. Before, Grayson and her cousins Willa and Ainsley, grew up together like sisters. After, they were torn apart as their individual families tried to move on from the tragedy.
Grayson's been apart from her cousins for three years but now, in what promises to be a family-filled summer, she's headed back to Arizona to reunite with them. Despite her excitement at seeing Willa and Ainsley again, things quickly become tangled as Willa's grief resurfaces and Ainsley does her best to push Grayson away from her. In trying to deal with the ways her cousins have changed, Grayson finds herself developing romantic feelings for a childhood friend -- a boy who's now dating Willa -- and now she must decide how much she's willing to risk in order to restore the relationship she used to have with Willa and Ainsley.
SITTING ON ROOFTOPS, complete at 59,000 words, is a YA novel about family and the different types of love. It's about making the wrong turn and how to put things back together when they fall apart.
In seventh grade math they taught us that a triangle is the sturdiest shape, stronger than rectangles or pentagons or anything else. And that made sense to me. I understood, almost instinctively, what we spent multiple class periods on; I knew that three points were stronger than two, that the third corner gave the shape an added strength it wouldn’t otherwise have. That third corner, I knew, was needed.
I am the third corner, the point that makes the triangle work. I knew this when I was five years playing dolls with Willa and Ainsley and I know it now, a mile in the air, on my way to reunite with them after three years away. Three years apart, the corners of our triangle spread across hundreds and thousands of miles. Seb sits next to me, comic book in hand and his Bose noise-cancelling headphones (a remnant of our parents’ divorce, one of the things he stole from my mother’s boxes when she moved out) blocking out the noise of the airplane. He’s my older brother and my best friend and right now I wish he’d talk to me instead of reading. I’m nervous and I shouldn’t be nervous. I’m antsy and I shouldn’t be antsy.
“Seb,” I say.
He doesn’t hear me.
“Seb,” I say again, louder.
He still doesn’t hear me, but the girl sitting behind me does and she kicks the back of my seat. Nice.
I pull the headphones away from him. “Seb.”