LONGLISTED FOR THE NATIONAL BOOK AWARD • A powerful, genre-bending mosaic of fiction and poetry that celebrates the humanity, grace, and resilience of teenage New Yorkers riding out the pandemic—from the award-winning author of Chlorine Sky “A gorgeous, tender testament to the generation of young people who shouldered the pandemic.”— New York Times bestselling author Brendan Kiely ONE OF THE BEST BOOKS OF THE YEAR: Publishers Weekly, The Bulletin of the Center for Children's Books, School Library Journal We found out what true longing looked like. Longing for crushes to crush back the week after next. Longing for hugs. Longing for connection. As New York goes into lockdown and neighborhoods begin to feel the brunt of the pandemic, the city’s teens persevere with love and hope amidst all the fear and loss: Malachi writes an Armageddon short story inspired by his new reality. Tariq helps their ailing grandmother survive quarantine. Zamira struggles with depression and loneliness after losing her parents. Mohamed tries to help keep his community spirit alive. Mahogany L. Browne’s unforgettable, interconnected short stories and poems remind us to breathe as these New York City teens discover their will to survive, their determination to dream, and their joy. ★ " Heavy, important, powerful and evergreen ; remembers kids during the time when the world stopped." — Kirkus Reviews , starred review ★ "An emotionally impactful read." — Publishers Weekly , starred review ★ " The book boasts memorable characters and beautiful writing —especially the poems. It is singularly relevant in its unsparing examination of the plague and its impact on young lives." — Booklist , starred review ★ "An essential purchase to explore grief associated with the pandemic; give to fans of Elizabeth Acevedo and Elisabet Velasquez." — School Library Journal , starred review "[An] intriguing and heartbreaking collection of stories and poems." — The Bulletin Mahogany L. Browne is a Kennedy Center Next 50 fellow, writer, play-wright, organizer, and educator. Browne received fellowships from ALL ARTS, Arts for Justice, AIR Serenbe, Baldwin for the Arts, Cave Canem, Poets House, Mellon Research, Rauschenberg, and Wesleyan University. Browne’s books include A Bird in the Air Means We Can Still Breathe , Vinyl Moon , Chlorine Sky (optioned for Steppenwolf Theatre), Black Girl Magic , and banned books Woke: A Young Poet’s Call to Justice and Woke Baby . Browne’s Chrome Valley tour was highlighted in Publishers Weekly and the New York Times . Founder of the diverse lit initia-tive Woke Baby Book Fair, Browne is the 2024 Paterson Poetry Prize winner. She is the inaugural poet in residence at the Lincoln Center and lives in Brooklyn, New York. Chorus: Wild Fire If you listen closely, you can hear their TV screens pour from the windowpanes, under the apartment doors, and out onto the streets. Everybody is listening to the news, and no one is listening to their hearts. I am Hyacinth. Mi a har best fren, Electra. And we’re just two city girls . . . Suh yuh sey, Ms. Trini-to-the-bone! Okay, okay. We’re two city girls with island roots. We met in the foster care system, after one too many fights took us from our families’ homes and placed us as roomies in a group home slash detention center, wearing blue crew neck sweatshirts and matching sweatpants with one-size-too-small slippers. We sat in that weird-smelling facility until we were moved to neighboring foster care homes. Some might say we have a chip on our shoulders because we talk the truth loud. But really, we are over being talked down to, talked over, and completely ignored. Fi Chuu. You can say that being height-challenged brought Electra and me closer. Because for some reason, people think they can pick on people like us. Dem pick pon mi, mi wi fight dem. But you aren’t here to hear about our origin story--you are here to learn the stories of how we all got to this weird pandemic place in the first place. And you are in luck, because we keep our eyes wide open! Serious. Wi see all a it. No lies, we’ve seen it all. Okay, maybe not all--but a lot. Follow us. We have seen a granny spoon-feed VapoRub to a likkle one. We have seen fishermen pull seaweed from the mighty waters, clean all the sand free from the leaves, and make a cure with it. We have even seen a mother strap a baby on her back with thick kente fabric and machete a clearing through the sugarcane field for her family’s safe passage to New York City. She and Electra’s mother moved from Kingston, Jamaica. And after my father passed away, my mother, big brother, big sister, and I moved from Trinidad and Tobago to Stamford, Connecticut. We fine each odda unda strange circumstances. Yes, Electra, we did find each other. After we were both Scarlet Lettered as disruptive students (simply because we asked questions and demanded answers), we became used to being ignored. A