This Book Might Be About Zinnia

This Book Might Be About Zinnia

Clap When You Land meets Monday’s Not Coming in this “compelling, introspective” ( Kirkus Reviews , starred review) novel told in two timelines as one teen searches for her biological mother and the other copes with giving up her baby from the acclaimed author of SLAY . Two moments in time. Two very different girls. And one story that connects them both. It’s the year 2024, and Zinnia Davis is on a mission to ace her personal essay. But when an admissions rep hints that her adoption story is “lacking heart,” she has to figure out a new spin. Frankly, Zinnia doesn’t know much about her birth parents; that is, until her favorite author releases a new novel— Little Heart —about a princess with a heart-shaped birthmark on her forehead and separated from her mother at birth…just like Zinnia. Could this be her birth mother? Flashback to 2006, and teenager Tuesday Walker is barely making it through high school after experiencing a loss that had her on leave for months. To cope, Tuesday writes a series of entries in a journal, but when the journal is lost, it feels like reliving the trauma all over again. Tuesday’s search for the journal uncovers dangerous secrets about her past, her crush, and her own mother’s story. If Tuesday isn’t careful in her search, Zinnia will have to reap the consequences in the present. A Kirkus Best Young Adult Book of 2025 ★ "A compelling, introspective journey into identity and the power of familial love." —Kirkus Reviews, STARRED REVIEW "Full of heart, this book is recommended for libraries where Elizabeth ­Acevedo’s Clap When You Land is popular." —School Library Journal Brittney Morris is the author of SLAY , The Cost of Knowing , The Jump , and This Book Might Be About Zinnia and has written video game narrative for Insomniac Games’s Marvel’s Spider-Man 2 for PlayStation 5, Unknown Worlds’s Subnautica: Below Zero , and Soma Games’s The Lost Legends of Redwall . She is the founder and former president of the Boston University Creative Writing Club. She holds a BA in economics. You can find her online at AuthorBrittneyMorris.com and on X or Instagram @BrittneyMMorris. Chapter 1 CHAPTER 1 Zinnia 2024 THE HAZMAT TEAM LOVES ME. I always skip the “we had an incident” pleasantries. They know there was an incident. Nobody calls hazmat while they’re having a picnic. I tell them exactly what they’ll find in the bathroom. “Needles,” I say as I pull the steam lever, blasting this soy milk into foam with a hiss. “Blood and glass all over the floor.” A heavy sigh comes through the receiver. “Still don’t have a sharps container?” he asks. “If you’ve got a free one lying around, Milo, I’ll install it myself.” Oh yeah, the hazmat team also loves me because my best friend since Water Babies is among them. Another, heavier sigh comes through the phone. “Couldn’t you put up a sign?” he asks. “What is it with you non–food service people thinking a sign will solve everything?” I grin at his logic. “Ever seen a ‘Please do not partake in illicit drugs on the premises’ sign? Think it would do any good?” A third sigh. We’ve known each other so long that I can read the different subtleties in them. This one says, begrudgingly, Fine and I’ll be over in a minute. “You’re the best,” I return. “And you’re going to be late.” It takes me a second to realize what he’s talking about. I roll my eyes and glance at my watch. “I’ve got four hours.” “Two left in your shift.” “ Plenty of time.” Hair. Makeup. Dress. Shoes. How long could that possibly take? It’s homecoming, not my wedding day. Besides, the real fun happens after homecoming. No, not that. I’ve registered for Harvard’s application and sent my guidance counselor a rough draft of my essay, and tonight I’m registering for the rest of them. All of them. “Shouldn’t you be worried?” I ask. “You have a biohazard to clean, a shower to take, and a gift to get me.” There’s a pause, just long enough to confirm that he forgot that last detail. We agreed weeks ago that we, the two singlest people in the whole school—me, the allo, too preoccupied with life to give a shit about romance, and Milo, the ace, uninterested in anything but books and boba tea—would get each other a homecoming gift. A token of our friendship. And in true Milo fashion, he hasn’t gotten mine yet. Four hours out. “How do you know I don’t have your gift?” he asks, clearing his throat. “Because it’s you,” I say with love. “There’s a good reason this time.” “There’s always a good reason,” I say, and trill my voice along the chorus of Hoobastank’s most famous song, “?‘And the reason is youuuuuuuuu.’?” “Stop,” he mutters through the receiver. “You’re making me want to take up vaping again.” It’s such an outlandish suggestion that I know to write it off. Besides, I should be more embarrassed than he is right now. He’s presumably at home, just him and his mom, and I’m standing in the middle of the