Two teenagers battling their inner demons fall in love for the first time in this “heartfelt and gritty debut” ( Booklist ). When Marion Taylor, the shy bookworm, meets sexy soccer captain Kurt Medford at a party, what seems like a sure thing quickly turns into a total mess. One moment they’re alone in the middle of a lake, igniting sparks of electricity. The next, they’re on dry land, pretending they’ve never met. But rather than the end, that night is the beginning of something real, terrifying, and completely unforgettable for them both. As Marion and Kurt struggle to build a relationship from the fractured pieces of their pasts, every kiss they share uncovers memories both would rather keep buried. Marion desperately wants to trust Kurt and share the one secret she’s never told anyone—but some truths aren’t meant to be spoken out loud. Kurt is also still haunted by his mother’s death, by the people he hurt, and by the mistakes he can never take back. Explosive together and hollow apart, Marion and Kurt seem totally wrong for each other—but could they turn out to be more right than they ever thought possible? "Ingrid Sundberg has a rare talent for writing heartfelt stories that readers will sink into. Powerful and poignant, honest and tender, with beautifully textured characters, All We Left Behind is a gem of a book." -- ―A.M. Jenkins, author of Printz Honor Book Repossessed “The heart of this book lies in its wonderfully complex characters. Sundberg is a master at crafting flawed, vulnerable, realistic characters. Each moment, each thought feels honest and deliberate, and as a result there is such life in the pages, an almost intangible ache that lives between each careful word. All We Left Behind perfectly pinpoints what it is to be a teenager today. To search for a straight path in a crooked and confusing world.” -- -Cora Carmack, New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author "A realistic love story about two broken pieces and their struggle to become whole. Artfully crafted, All We Left Behind guarantees that Ingrid Sundberg's name is one you won't soon forget." -- - Julie Murphy, #1 New York Times bestselling author of DUMBLIN' "A poetic and tumultuous tale of love and loss that will appeal to fans of both realistic fiction and romance." -- AnnaliseAmmer, Henrietta Public Library, NY ― School Library Journal Ingrid Sundberg holds an MFA in writing for children from Vermont College of Fine Arts and an MFA in screenwriting from Chapman University. She grew up in Maine, but now lives in sunny California where she misses the colors of autumn. All We Left Behind is her first novel. Find Ingrid online at IngridSundberg.com. All We Left Behind Marion The sun parts the trees like lips, golden with half shadows and secrets. Dusk arches over the dirt road ahead, and I double-check the Post-it on my dash. It tells me to drive straight for another six miles out of town through this patchwork of New England trees. But the leaves are flamed orange-gold and so thick I can’t imagine there’s a lake, much less a lake house and a party, somewhere behind them. “Are you sure this is the right way?” I ask Lilith, who bares her teeth in the mirror of my passenger-seat visor. Her red mouth fills the whole frame. “Of course it is,” Lilith practically snorts, tossing lipstick into her purse and fishing out a silver flask. She opens the cap and gulps back whatever’s inside it, smearing red over the rim. “There is only one way, Marion!” Lilith bellows, rolling down the window and leaning into the wind. “Forward, my friend. Forward, into your future!” The sun winks ominously through the trees, nearly set. The thin fabric of Lilith’s tank top stretches over her cleavage, and I can’t help but think about all the things Lilith knows. All the guys she’s been with and the secrets her body understands, the same way a firefly knows to glow when night arrives, turning on in the dark. “Marion, it’s senior year!” Lilith hoots, nudging me as she leans out the window. “We’re going to have the best year ever!” She laughs and her hair whips wildly, catching whispers of sun. And even though the trees angle in dark ahead of us, I can’t help but smile and roll down my window with her. Because Lilith is so free, and so alive, and so radiant, that I know I’d follow her anywhere, for just a hint of that freedom. *  *  * At the end of the road the treetops open up to unveil the lake, and the final winks of gold shine over the mountain. It makes me forget we live near Boston, or that droves of tourists descend upon our small coastal town of Emerson in the summertime. It reminds me that once this land was nothing but virgin forest. I park near the salt grass and Lilith drums her fingers on the dashboard, nodding to the bonfire by the shore. Two dozen kids from school already surround the flames, drinking and laughing. “Let the mayhem begin!” Lilith says dramatically, checking her cleavage in the mirror and fluffing