All the Love Under the Vast Sky

Twelve short stories in verse by bestselling and award-winning authors that explore the highs and lows of love – romantic, platonic, familial, and self-love. Love can be many things –;all-consuming, fleeting, vengeful, selfless, toxic, uplifting, and always, a core part of the teen experience that leaves an indelible mark. This enchanting, genre-crossing anthology delivers something for every reader with unique characters, global settings, and a dazzling mixture of myth, historical, speculative, and contemporary fiction. With the turn of a page, get swept away by unexpected love blooming between two princes from enemy Mesoamerican nations in the 15th century, who''d rather make music rather than war; cheer for a timid bearded lady who was shunned by her family and runs away to find belonging and safety at the circus during the 1800s experience the heartbreak of saying goodbye to a beloved pet; breathlessly watch a myth unfold as a siren bound to the water falls in love with a winged forest spirit, their love seemingly impossible from the start. Root for a girl who emerges from grief and battles with chronic pain to discover how to love herself and life again.; Love is complicated, and this anthology embraces the messiness and the joy of all kinds of love. Contributors include:

Autorentext
KIP WILSON is the critically acclaimed author of the YA verse novels White Rose, The Most Dazzling Girl in Berlin, and One Last Shot. Awards for her books include the Malka Penn Award and the Julia Ward Howe Award, and her books have been named a Massachusetts Book Honor title, an Amelia Elizabeth Walden Award Finalist, and a Los Angeles Times Book Prize Finalist. Kip holds a PhD in German literature and is an enthusiastic high school library worker.

Klappentext

"Spanning twelve short stories in verse, this collection explores love's many facets and how it manifests in and shapes our lives"--

Leseprobe
Kaleidoscope
By Alexandra Alessandri

Bursting to Be Free

A new day awakens
wide and bright and
bursting with the promise
of change.

It’s the first day
of my first job,
and like a seed
that’s been buried
for too long, I’m
bursting to be free.

I fly out of Mami’s car,
heart spread wide
and smile stretched thin

while worry wiggles
below my breastbone:
                what if I’m buried
                once more?

Mami Worries Too

Before we left the house, Mami paced
rivers on the rug because maybe 
she shouldn’t have said yes.

*It’s too soon.

• She worries about my readiness and
  steadiness after all these years of
  slowing down so I could heal.
• You’re not ready.
• She worries about the taxes and tolls
  a new job will claim on my body,
  and whether it’s worth it at all.
• Maybe next year.

• She worries I haven’t healed from
  that day, from the accident that
  left me shattered and empty.

  • Remember your fibromyalgia.*

  As if I could forget. When I
  can’t stand Mami’s pacing
  any longer, I whisper,

• Chill, Mom. It’ll be fine.

• What I Don’t Say
  
  Is I’m scared to be in that place                again,
  a shell of a girl         drowning in pain and fatigue
  and a fog so dense   I barely break the surface.

  Because I know this job could shatter me
  even more, but Catalina would’ve wanted me
  to bloom.

  I’m scared that strangers will learn my weakness
  and shut me out       the way my friends did—­
  or worse   scatter pity over my brokenness.
  (Because no one knows what to do           with a girl
                  who’s been cursed   by chronic illness
                                                  and grief.)
  But I’m even more scared
                  of not living
                                  my life.
  
  Call Me Sarai

  Mami tells me
  my name means
  princesa
  but it’s also
  a name of resilience
  and overcoming.

  I’ve wished so much
  for this to be true,
  but all I’ve been able to do
  since Catalina died
  is survive.

  But here,
  standing beneath
  Farmacia Navarro’s
  neon-­blue signs,

  I’m finally
  ready
  to live.
  
  Catalina

  My sister would’ve been nineteen this month,
  growing and glowing like a luciérnaga,
  on her way to college.

  FSU, pre-­pharmacy, top of her class.

  Instead, she’s in St. Andrews Cemetery.
  The same accident that crushed my body
  three years ago claimed her life.

  She was the same age I am now—­

  excited and eager behind the wheel
  (without Mami for the first time).
  Someone ran the red light.

  We never saw it coming.

  My world hasn’t been the same since,
  but I made a promise after she died
  to hit all the milestones she missed.

  This job   today
  is me keeping my promise to my sister.
  
  Few Things Scream Miami

  Like the Cuban-­owned pharmacy
  and mercado
  near my house, filled with
  Agua de Violetas,
  pastelitos and cafecitos,
  and panetones during the holidays.
  Spanish rolls through the aisles
  in waves,
  comforting and soothing.

  I’m not Cuban—­
  I’m Colombian American—­
  but still, I feel at home here.
  It’s bold and bright and happy.

  If only      my heart
  would stop galloping,
  jittery and afraid
  that my attempt
  at keeping promises

  will           fail.
  
  I Meet

  My manager Santiago
  and Rosita the pharmacist,
  wave hello and smile shyly
  to the other workers:
  Martica and Caleb,
  cashiers like me,
  and Mauro and Suzi,
  roaming the aisles.

  Then there’s Josue,
  whose smile
  is like the sun.
  
  My Trainer Josue

  Reminds me
  of Catalina—­
                  kind eyes
                  easy smile
                  down to business.
  He’s her age too,
  or how old she would be
  if she were still alive.

  Our fingers brush as
  Josue hands me
  a blue shirt and
  bright orange name tag
  with Sarai González
  printed in bold block letters
                  (they even got
                  the accent right),
  and for a moment I wonder
  what Catalina would think
  if she saw me.

  But I chase the thought away.
  Instead, I shadow Josue as he
  t…