{"product_id":"highly-suspicious-and-unfairly-cute-isbn-9780593482339","title":"Highly Suspicious and Unfairly Cute","description":"\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003eNEW YORK TIMES\u003c\/i\u003e BESTSELLER • A pair of ex-best friends turned high school rivals must work together to survive the great outdoors—and each other—in this cozy enemies-to-lovers romance from the beloved author of the Brown Sisters trilogy.\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e \u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e“A pure delight. This book is confirmation: no one does love stories like Talia Hibbert.”—Leah Johnson, author of\u003ci\u003e You Should See Me in a Crown \u003c\/i\u003eand \u003ci\u003eRise to the Sun\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003eBradley Graeme\u003c\/b\u003e is pretty much perfect. He’s a star football player, manages his OCD well (enough), and comes out on top in all his classes . . . except the ones he shares with his ex-best friend, Celine.\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003eCeline Bangura\u003c\/b\u003e is conspiracy-theory-obsessed. Social media followers eat up her takes on everything from UFOs to holiday overconsumption—yet, she’s still not cool enough for the popular kids’ table. Which is why Brad \u003ci\u003eabandoned\u003c\/i\u003e her for the in-crowd years ago. (At least, that’s how Celine sees it.)\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThese days, there’s nothing between them other than petty insults and academic rivalry. So when Celine signs up for a survival course in the woods, she’s surprised to find Brad right beside her.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eForced to work as a team for the chance to win a grand prize, these two teens must trudge through not just mud and dirt but their messy past. And as this adventure brings them closer together, they begin to remember the good bits of their history. But has too much time passed . . . or just enough to spark a whole new kind of relationship?\u003cb\u003ePraise for \u003ci\u003eHighly Suspicious and Unfairly Cute\u003c\/i\u003e:\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003eWinner of the BookTok Breakthrough Author of the Year\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e \u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“\u003cb\u003eA pure delight\u003c\/b\u003e. This book is confirmation: no one does love stories like Talia Hibbert.”—LEAH JOHNSON, bestselling author of\u003ci\u003e You Should See Me in a Crown \u003c\/i\u003eand \u003ci\u003eRise to the Sun\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e \u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“An \u003cb\u003eeffervescent\u003c\/b\u003e, \u003cb\u003efunny\u003c\/b\u003e, \u003cb\u003etender\u003c\/b\u003e, and \u003cb\u003ejoyous\u003c\/b\u003e story.”—YAMILE SAIED MÉNDEZ, award-winning author of \u003ci\u003eFuria and Twice a Quinceañera\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“A \u003cb\u003erazor-sharp\u003c\/b\u003e, \u003cb\u003ewitty\u003c\/b\u003e enemies-to-lovers rom-com. Readers will laugh out loud and swoon at the same time. \u003cb\u003eSimply unputdownable\u003c\/b\u003e.”—EMIKO JEAN, \u003ci\u003eNew York Times \u003c\/i\u003ebestselling author of\u003ci\u003e Tokyo Ever After\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Hibbert delivers yet another \u003cb\u003eswoon-worthy romance\u003c\/b\u003e filled with banter that made me grin like a fool from one page to the next. I dare you not to fall in love.”—JESSE Q. SUTANTO, bestselling author of\u003ci\u003e Dial A for Aunties \u003c\/i\u003eand \u003ci\u003eWell, That Was Unexpected\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e \u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e★ “\u003cb\u003eA zippy rom-com\u003c\/b\u003e with strong characterization, bursting with Gen Z–approved verbal sparring and stolen kisses.”—\u003ci\u003eKirkus Reviews\u003c\/i\u003e, Starred Review\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e★ “Between the quippy, energetic snipes and entertainingly uncomfortable scenarios, Hibbert has built a cast of characters with real depth and heart, and readers will hope for their happy endings as they stumble their way toward joy.”—\u003ci\u003eBooklist\u003c\/i\u003e, Starred Review\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Don’t miss out on the laugh-out-loud childhood-friends-to-enemies-to-rivals-to-lovers romance that will warm your heart this winter!” —\u003ci\u003eThe Nerd Daily\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e \u003c\/i\u003e“\u003cb\u003eSide-splittingly hilarious\u003c\/b\u003e.”—\u003ci\u003ePopSugar\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“A \u003cb\u003ecozy \u003c\/b\u003eread.”—Cosmopolitan \u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e \u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“An emotional and satisfying story that’s well-written and heartfelt, full of Hibbert’s trademark banter and heart. \u003cb\u003eA joyful, escapist delight\u003c\/b\u003e.”—\u003ci\u003ePaste Magazine\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“With dialogue that juggles both \u003cb\u003elaugh-out-loud humor and pull-at-the-heartstrings vulnerability\u003c\/b\u003e amid an outdoorsy premise, Hibbert attentively captures Celine’s feelings of abandonment and resentment, and Brad’s mental health struggles while striking a quintessential balance of romance and comedy in this \u003cb\u003elively romp\u003c\/b\u003e.”—\u003ci\u003ePublishers Weekly\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e \u003c\/i\u003e\"\u003cb\u003eA charming enemies-to-lovers story\u003c\/b\u003e....Filled with humor and sensitivity, this novel explores mental health, personal growth, and the joy and rewards of rekindled friendships. A witty, heartfelt read perfect for fans of nuanced romance and authentic character development.\"\u003ci\u003e—School Library Journal\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e \u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e“\u003cb\u003eHighly Suspicious and Unfairly Cute\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e will leave readers eager to discover what else Joy Revolution will publish.”—\u003ci\u003eBookPage\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“\u003cb\u003eSkillfully written\u003c\/b\u003e romantic banter make this \u003cb\u003ean engrossing rom-com\u003c\/b\u003e.”—\u003ci\u003eThe Horn Book\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cb\u003eTALIA HIBBERT\u003c\/b\u003e is a \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003ci\u003eUSA Today\u003c\/i\u003e, and \u003ci\u003eWall Street Journal\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author who lives in a bedroom full of books in the English Midlands. She writes witty, diverse romances, including \u003ci\u003eGet a Life, Chloe Brown\u003c\/i\u003e; \u003ci\u003eThe Princess Trap\u003c\/i\u003e; and \u003ci\u003eA Girl Like Her\u003c\/i\u003e, because she believes that people of marginalized identities need honest and positive representation. \u003ci\u003eHighly Suspicious and Unfairly Cute\u003c\/i\u003e is herdebut novel for teens. Talia’s interests include beauty, junk food, and unnecessary sarcasm.Chapter One\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Celine\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e It’s the first day of school and I’m already being forced to ­socialize.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “I’m dead serious,” Nicky Cassidy says, his eyes wide and his acid-­wash shirt stained with what looks like tomato sauce. “Juice WRLD is \u003ci\u003ealive,\u003c\/i\u003e Celine. The planet needs to know.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e My TikTok account has 19,806 followers—­@HowCeline SeesIt, feel free to take me to 20K—­so God knows how I’m supposed to inform the entire planet of anything. Besides, I make videos about UFOs and vaccines (conclusion: I believe in both) and that guy who hijacked a plane and literally vanished with the ransom money. I don’t make videos about people’s tragic deaths because it’s rude and tacky.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Also, I don’t take requests. For God’s sake, I am a conspiracy theorist. There must be some glamor in that, or else what’s the point?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Sorry, Nicky,” I reply. “Still no.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e He is appalled by my lack of sensitivity to his cause. “You’re joking.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Almost never.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Fine. If you don’t want to tell the truth, \u003ci\u003eI’ll\u003c\/i\u003e do it. Your TikTok’s shit anyway.” He storms off, leaving me to cross campus on my own.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e So much for Mum’s hope that I’ll make more friends this year.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Oh well. I inhale the warm September air and stride through the school’s higgledy-­piggledy pathways alone. Rosewood Academy is a rambling maze, but this is my final year, so I know it like I know Beyoncé’s discography. It takes five minutes to reach the Beech Hut—­aka our sixth-­form common area\/cafeteria, a tiny, musty building that begs to be knocked down. I snag my usual table by the noticeboard and get on with the very important business of ignoring everyone around me.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I’m on my phone stitching together some footage of cows that I filmed this weekend for a video about the possibility of cannibalistic bovine overlords running the beef industry when my best friend slides into the chair beside me and waves a glossy leaflet in my face.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Have you seen this?” Michaela demands, her pink curls vibrating with excitement.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “I haven’t,” I say, “and if you put my eye out with it, I never will.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Don’t be miserable. \u003ci\u003eLook.\u003c\/i\u003e” She slams down the flyer and crows, “Katharine Breakspeare!” Then she clicks her tongue piercing against her teeth, which is Minnie’s personal version of a mic drop.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e It works. I fall all over that shiny piece of paper like it’s a plate of nachos.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e There she is: Katharine Breakspeare, her wide mouth severe (no ladylike smiles for Katharine, thank you very much) and her hair perfectly blown out. They did a whole article in \u003ci\u003eVogue\u003c\/i\u003e about that blowout, which is ridiculous considering Katharine’s famous for her trailblazing career in human rights law. Commentators call this woman the James Bond of the courtroom because she’s so damn cool; she’s won at least three inter­nationally significant, high-­profile cases in the last five years; she bought her mother an entire compound back in Jamaica to retire to. And \u003ci\u003eVogue\u003c\/i\u003e is talking about her \u003ci\u003ehair.\u003c\/i\u003e I mean, yes, the hair is gorgeous, but come on, people.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Katharine Breakspeare is the blueprint and one day I’m going to be her, building my mum a house in Sierra Leone.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e My eyes narrow as I study the leaflet. “ ‘Apply for the Breakspeare Enrichment Program,’ ” I read. “Her nature bootcamp thing? But that’s only for undergrads.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Not anymore.” Minnie grins, tapping the words in front of us. “ ‘Award-­winning enrichment program now open to those aged sixteen to eighteen—­’ ”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “ ‘—­for the first time ever,’ ” I finish reading. “ ‘Set yourself apart from the crowd, nurture early bonds with prestigious employers, and be in with the chance to win a \u003ci\u003efull university scholarship. . . .\u003c\/i\u003e’ ” My mouth is numb. My throat is dry. My nerves are fried. “I need a drink.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Michaela is a dancer; she never goes anywhere without a disgustingly heavy two-­liter flask of water. “Here ya go,” she says brightly, and causes a small earthquake by slamming it on the table.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Where did you get this?” I demand between desperate gulps, shaking the Golden Leaflet of Opportunity.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Mr. Darling’s office.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Mr. Darling’s—­ \u003ci\u003eMinnie.\u003c\/i\u003e It’s the first day of school. How are you on his shit list already?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “I’m not,” she says primly. “It was a preliminary warning. You know: \u003ci\u003eFocus on school this year, Michaela, or you’ll die homeless under a bridge by twenty-­five.\u003c\/i\u003e The usual morale-­boosting stuff.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Oh, babe. That’s not true. He’s just jealous of your fabulous hair and giant brain.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Stop. You know I don’t listen to him. I have bigger plans.” It’s true. She’s going to be like Jessica Alba in my older sister’s favorite film, \u003ci\u003eHoney,\u003c\/i\u003e except much cooler and actually Black. Then she winks and taps the paper. “And so do you.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e No, I don’t: focusing on school \u003ci\u003eis\u003c\/i\u003e my big plan, because that’s how you get into Cambridge, which is how you get an excellent law degree and take over the world.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e But I’ve done the research and read the forums: companies—­ including law firms—­fall all over themselves to hire Breakspeare  Enrichment Program alums because the program produces uniquely driven and capable candidates with work ethics and abilities worthy of Katharine’s own reputation. It’s not like other enrichment programs where you memorize textbooks and complete work experience. In this one, you’re put out into the wilderness where you try to survive and, ideally, thrive, for what I’m sure are completely logical reasons. (It is true that I’m hazy on details, but I trust that Katharine knows what she’s doing.)\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Nature isn’t really my thing—­not anymore. But I would gargle pond water to get within three feet of this opportunity for the clout alone, never mind the \u003ci\u003escholarship.\u003c\/i\u003e So it turns out this is it: my new agenda for the last year of school. Goodbye, Latin Club, and farewell to volunteering at the animal hospital.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e It’s time to make space for camping with Katharine.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Apparently, anyone interested in the details can attend a meeting in Nottingham later this week. I flip the leaflet over, searching for a map, but instead I see a QR code labeled “RSVP” and the logos of all the companies involved. The list is long. Some are huge, like Boots; some are small but powerful, like Games Workshop; and I see plenty of law firms, too, which is—­\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Oh.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e My dad’s firm is a sponsor.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Minnie sees my face, then follows my gaze. “What? What?” She squints at the page.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Wear your glasses, Michaela,” I mutter sharply.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Not with these lashes.” She bats her falsies at me (I think I feel a breeze), then reads “ ‘Lawrence, Needham and Soro, corporate law, established 1998.’ ”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I swallow hard. My throat is dry again. I chug some more water.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Minnie says. “I do need that, you know. You want me to dry up like a prune?” She reclaims the mammoth bottle and says, “Soro. Why does that sound familiar? Soro, Soro—­”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “My dad works there.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Minnie winces. She’s my best friend, so we know stuff about each other’s families. As in, I know her gran’s a lesbophobic cowbag and she knows my dad ditched us for his second family ten years ago and I haven’t seen him since. The usual girl stuff. Grimacing, she squeaks, “Maybe the sponsoring firms won’t be super involved?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “I honestly couldn’t care less.” I’m not lying. He’s the one with something to be ashamed of. I’m the one who’s a credit to my family name.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Which is Bangura, \u003ci\u003enot\u003c\/i\u003e Soro, thank you very much.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I slip the leaflet into my bag, pressed between the pages of a textbook to keep it fresh and uncreased. “I’ll think about this. Thanks, Min.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e She blows me a kiss as the bell rings, and we get up for class. Only then do I realize who slunk into the Beech Hut while Minnie and I were talking.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Bradley Graeme is here.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Alongside, you know, a ton of other people, but he stands out as the King of Uselessness. He and his breathless fan club are ensconced at their usual table, miles away from the admin office, which allows them to get away with breaking all kinds of rules.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Case in point: Bradley Graeme is currently bouncing a Completely Illicit Football off his head. His short, shiny twists are jumping, and his grin is wide and carefree the way only a truly terrible person’s can be.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Minnie leans in as we walk by. “Do you think Brad’s applying to Cambridge?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Of course he is,” I mutter. When does he ever miss a chance to show off?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “So, you might see him at interviews and stuff. Right?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Ugh. God forbid. “I don’t care, stop looking at him.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e She arches an eyebrow. “You started it.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Yeah, well. Who can avoid looking at Bradley? His sheer annoyingness creates its own gravitational pull.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e His fan club—­consisting of 70 percent boys’ football team and 30 percent girls whose parents pay for their mammoth Depop wardrobes, which equals 100 percent skinny, glowing people who practice TikTok dances unironically and spend their  weekends being bland and hooking up at house parties—is absolutely entranced by his tomfoolery like they’ve never seen a ball before. Except for Jordan Cooper, who rolls his eyes, snatches the ball out of the air, and says in his flat American accent, “Cut it out, or Mr. Darling will rip you a new one.”","brand":"Joy Revolution","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46302283399397,"sku":"NP9780593482339","price":20.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780593482339.jpg?v=1767729050","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/es\/products\/highly-suspicious-and-unfairly-cute-isbn-9780593482339","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}