Slow Burn

A sporty, feel-good, body-positive rom-com pits a plus-size teen against her bullies to prove what she already knows—that she has exactly the right stuff.

Sixteen-year-old Ruby has worked hard to be happy in her body, even when other people—including her brother and her PE teacher—insist there's something wrong with her for being fat. All Ruby cares about is hanging out at the skate park this summer with friends. But her brother’s bullying words get under her skin, and in order to prove to him (and her impressionable little sister) that fat girls can do anything, Ruby finds herself signed up for the annual 5K Dawson Dash. There’s just one problem: She can’t run. The cute new boy next door can, however, and when Ollie offers to help her train, Ruby takes him up on it, even if it means he'll see her at her sweatiest and most vulnerable. Young athletes of all stripes, especially those marginalized in sports due to body differences, will find a hero in good-humored Ruby. With its all-audience appeal, her joyful story delivers upbeat romance and affirmation that our bodies are just right, just the way they are.Ruby’s inner monologue is believably nuanced, balancing genuine fear and overwhelm with positive self-talk and determination, and her growing romance with Ollie is based on courage and vulnerability. Her incredibly funny observational humor and insistence on protecting Sasha from negative body-image messages lead to entertaining and heartwarming moments. . . . A beautifully well-balanced romantic comedy with emotional depth.
—Kirkus Reviews

Rutter skillfully balances humor with realism, grounding Ruby’s story in a loving, if imperfect, family life marked by recent parental separation. . . . A love story that celebrates the everyday courage of claiming one’s place in the world, recommended for all collections
—School Library Journal

Bethany Rutter delivers on big feels and big swoons! I raced through every page!
—Julie Murphy, #1 New York Times best-selling author of Dumplin’Bethany Rutter is a writer, podcaster, and author of novels for young readers and adults, including No Big Deal and Melt My Heart. Cohost of a podcast about all things books, What Page Are You On?, Bethany Rutter lives in Southeast London.Prologue
I’m dying. I’m sure of it. I’m literally going to EXPIRE right here, right now. Tell my mother I love her. And my dad and Sasha, and maybe Jake if you absolutely have to.
This run may be the death of me.
“Come on, slowpokes!” Mr. Pearce bellows. Is this the first time I’ve heard such a thing being yelled at me by a demonic PE teacher? No. Will it be the last? Also no. There he is, looking all smug, standing around with most of the class, including my various BFFs who all have anxious expressions as they witness my humiliation. The rest of them are just staring at us blankly like we’re these weird curiosities.
We had been warned. I’ll give him that. “Anyone who doesn’t complete a lap of the playing field in less than three minutes will be made to do fifteen burpee star jumps,” Mr. Pearce had told us. First and foremost, the word burpee is criminal in and of itself, and that’s before we even get to the physical exertion required to do such a thing.
And I’m doing this after trying and failing to run a lap of the playing field in less than three minutes! In what world was I ever going to be able to do that? I might as well have just given up before I started. To be honest, I thought I was going to be the only one who failed, but here I am with Bolade and Sam, who also fall into the category of slowpoke. They’re not fat and slow—they’re just slow, which is less embarrassing overall but still pretty embarrassing because Mr. Pearce has decided to make it embarrassing.
“UGH!” I shout indignantly, but I carry on my torture and I feel the burn of (a) the unseasonably warm sun, (b) the eyeballs of my entire class (minus Sam and Bolade), (c) every muscle in my body, and (d) the perfectly calibrated humiliation of Mr. Pearce’s PE lesson. What a way to finish the last day of my school year.
“There must”—Sam pants as he hauls himself up off the ground into a star jump—“be another way . . . to do this . . .”
“Do what?” Bolade asks, her eyes facing forward, determined, focused.
“PE . . . It doesn’t need to . . . be like . . . this,” he says.
“I’m . . . pretty . . . sure . . . it . . . does,” I manage to utter breathlessly, unable to imagine a world in which PE is anything other than completely vile and embarrassing and frustrating.
“Nearly there. Come on, you lot! Ten more to go!” Mr. Pearce says in a tone that I think is meant to be rousing but just makes me want to karate kick him in the head.
I feel like I’m going to pass out right here and now. Ten more to go. My legs feel like they’re going to give out, but I make them spring forward as springily as I can manage and then work my body into a star jump. Nine to go. Eight. Seven. Six—
“Ruby? Roo? Ruby! Wake up!” My best friend April’s voice floats into my brain.
All I know is, I’m lying down and it’s nice here. Nice on the ground. Nice not to be jumping around.
“Oh my days, is she dead?” Jessica sounds indignant, veritably furious at Mr. Pearce.
“I think she fainted!” That’s Salma.
“Now, girls, please get out of the way.”
I open my eyes to see Mr. Pearce’s craggy visage looming above me. His sneer makes my humiliation boil over into rage. If my cheeks weren’t already on fire from the relentless workout, I would be pink with fury. Sure, it’s embarrassing, but more than anything, this kind of bullying just makes me angry. Like if the Incredible Hulk was a chubby sixteen-year-old girl. And not green.
“There you are, slowpoke. You’re all right, aren’t you? Nothing like a bit of a challenge to show you what you’re really made of.”