Dear Ms. Shea,
High school graduation: Check. College Apps: Check. Actually
deciding where to start the rest of your life: Uhhh.
For Ryan, deciding where to go to college is easy: he lets
someone else choose. His girlfriend Marcy’s the planner, not him. And he’d
rather not think about all the changes graduating and leaving home will bring.
Then their chosen school, Texas Central, cuts their soccer program. One more
thing he’ll have to give up now that high school’s done. But he doesn’t think there’s anything he can do about
it. He’s already committed to both TC and Marcy.
His neighbor Summer learned the hard way that avoiding
decisions doesn’t make them go away. Like last June, when she missed her chance
to cross the friends’ line with Ryan. She’s spent the last year avoiding him,
denying the mistake she made--but that has to stop. She has one more of year of
high school, but Ryan’s leaving soon. It’s time she let go of the past and
fixed their derailed friendship--especially since she might be the only one who
can help him figure out what he wants from the future.
If Ryan and Summer can’t learn to start calling the shots in
their own lives, they’ll never reach their goals--and they’ll all end up where
they don’t belong. UNDECIDED, a 60,000-word YA contemporary novel, should
appeal to fans of Susane Colasanti and Jenny Han.
His music is too loud--not exactly a problem, except that
it’s louder than mine. I jack up my iPod. My tiny speakers can’t drown out the
Especially since they aren’t just competing with music, but
laughter, splashing, screams. Fun. That’s what’s on the other side of the
My phone buzzes and skitters across the swing’s seat.
Amber’s name flashes on the screen, followed almost immediately by Max’s. Their
texts are identical. She’s headed to his house, his parents are headed out, I
can come if I want.
Half an invitation from each that doesn’t add up to a whole.
Can’t make it, I text back. Family movie night.
Not a complete lie. The windows flicker with light from a
I give up the fight with the music and shut mine off.
Despite the dark sky, the air is hot.
I could join my parents, but instead I stay outside, between
my house and Ryan’s, pushing myself in the swing, digging my bare toes into the
grass, listening to the party I’m definitely not invited to.
Until the soccer ball lands in my lap.
I clutch it and blink into the darkness, trying to see if
anyone’s there to claim it.
A head pops over the back fence, followed by a body, which
lands with a two-footed thump on my side.
“Nice one, man,” Ryan yells over the fence, then jogs toward
I could throw the ball back, but I wait for him to come to