{"product_id":"fireblooms-isbn-9780525514053","title":"Fireblooms","description":"\u003cb\u003eAn absorbing speculative Queer romance, set in a town that uses technology to prevent hate speech and bullying. From the LAMBDA Award-winning author of \u003ci\u003eThe Grief Keeper.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhen seventeen-year-old Sebastian agrees to come to New Gault to care for his absent and abusive mother after her cancer diagnosis, he is not prepared for the strange new community that awaits him or the distressing state he finds his mother in. He tries to help, but despite being ill, her tongue is as sharp as ever, finding all Sebas’s tender places. But he promised his Abuela he'd try to make this work.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eUnfortunately trying also means attending TECH, New Gault’s high school. His first day, he’s assigned to enthusiastic TECH student ambassador, Lu, who introduces him to all TECH can offer—a safe space, free from bullying. But all this safety and technology comes with a catch—not only do you have to watch what you say, but you have to stay within a strict word limit. Sebas declines. To him New Gault feels more like the \u003ci\u003eStepford Wives \u003c\/i\u003ethan freedom.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFor Lu, who suffers from anxiety and has a history of being bullied, TECH is a lifeline somewhere they can be safe. They can’t understand why Sebas would refuse. When Sebas rejects TECH, it feels as if he’s rejecting Lu.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut when Sebas learns if he doesn’t accept the TECH phone and abide by the rules, his mother will be denied cancer treatment, he changes his tune. Slowly, Lu and Sebas form a friendship that morphs into something more, but the closer they get, the more Sebas challenges Lu's beliefs about TECH and what it means to be safe. Meanwhile, Sebas contemplates how to forgive his dying mother for being no mother at all.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThis thought-provoking, tender love story examines what we’re willing to give up to feel safe as two broken teens navigate emotional trauma and discover what blooms may come from the ashes.\u003cb\u003e\u003cu\u003ePraise for \u003ci\u003eFireblooms\u003c\/i\u003e:\u003c\/u\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003eAn NPR 2025 “Books We Love” Selection\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e★ “Villasante presents \u003cb\u003ea raw meditation on grief and personal growth\u003c\/b\u003e in this \u003cb\u003eemotionally resonant speculative read\u003c\/b\u003e…Across their alternating first-person perspectives, [Lu and Sebas] support each other through family discord, mental health obstacles, and resurfacing ghosts from the past, which Villasante renders using \u003cb\u003egritty, slang-rich prose\u003c\/b\u003e. \u003cb\u003e[A] gracefully crafted tale\u003c\/b\u003e that portrays Lu and Sebas with authentic vulnerability as they navigate bullying and loss.”—\u003ci\u003ePublisher’s Weekly\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003cb\u003estarred review\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“\u003cb\u003eQueer and Latine representation\u003c\/b\u003e (including the incorporation of \u003cb\u003egenderneutral Spanish\u003c\/b\u003e) \u003cb\u003eis handled with care\u003c\/b\u003e, and Sebas and Lu’s relationship builds slowly as they learn about each other’s struggles and creative endeavors. Villasante deals with \u003cb\u003etimely questions of surveillance and identity\u003c\/b\u003e, as well as bullying, while also \u003cb\u003ecrafting two deep, realistic-feeling narrators\u003c\/b\u003e finding their way \u003cb\u003ein a less-than-utopian world\u003c\/b\u003e.”—\u003ci\u003eThe Horn Book\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Villasante once again presents a \u003cb\u003equeer romance with a speculative twist\u003c\/b\u003e in this \u003cb\u003eunique exploration of technology, bullying, and feeling trapped\u003c\/b\u003e…[T]he story emphasizes the \u003cb\u003esignificance of familial bonds in Latine culture\u003c\/b\u003e… The \u003cb\u003eutopian world\u003c\/b\u003e created in New Gault is \u003cb\u003eboth beautiful and horrifying, explored deeply\u003c\/b\u003e through Sebas’ and Lu’s alternating perspectives.”—\u003ci\u003eBooklist\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“\u003cb\u003eDeft and sensitive\u003c\/b\u003e…readers will still be amply rewarded by the \u003cb\u003epoignant\u003c\/b\u003e conclusion. A \u003cb\u003etender, intelligent love story\u003c\/b\u003e.”—\u003ci\u003eKirkus Reviews\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"\u003ci\u003eFireblooms \u003c\/i\u003eis a \u003cb\u003ebig-hearted\u003c\/b\u003e book that \u003cb\u003ehums with curiosity, tenderness, and forgiveness\u003c\/b\u003e. Through her signature \u003cb\u003elush prose\u003c\/b\u003e, Villasante holds a mirror to a technology-drenched community where words have a price—yet Sebas and Lu blossom without them. \u003cb\u003eTheir love story triumphs\u003c\/b\u003e in not only the moments of bold declarations but in the \u003cb\u003eachingly quiet\u003c\/b\u003e pauses, too.\"—\u003cb\u003eJas Hammonds\u003c\/b\u003e, award-winning author \u003ci\u003eWe Deserve Monuments\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Villasante’s sophomore novel, \u003ci\u003eFireblooms\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003cb\u003edelves into the intricate relationship between words and trauma\u003c\/b\u003e, examining their power to both harm and heal. Exemplified through Lu and Sebas’s journeys, \u003ci\u003eFireblooms\u003c\/i\u003e is \u003cb\u003ea thought-provoking exploration of language, trust, forgiveness, loss, and love.\u003c\/b\u003e\"—\u003cb\u003eMia García\u003c\/b\u003e, author of \u003ci\u003eThe Resolutions\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“After being floored by Villasante's debut, \u003ci\u003eThe Grief Keeper\u003c\/i\u003e, I expected nothing less than \u003cb\u003ea riveting novel brimming with powerful social commentary\u003c\/b\u003e, \u003cb\u003epoignant\u003c\/b\u003e, \u003cb\u003eheart\u003c\/b\u003e-\u003cb\u003erending\u003c\/b\u003e, \u003cb\u003eand multi-layered mental health rep\u003c\/b\u003e, \u003cb\u003eendearing friendships\u003c\/b\u003e, and a \u003cb\u003esweet and slow-burning romance\u003c\/b\u003e—and \u003cb\u003eVillasante delivers on all counts\u003c\/b\u003e in her sophomore novel \u003ci\u003eFireblooms\u003c\/i\u003e. \u003cb\u003eBe prepared to be swept up \u003c\/b\u003ein family drama, burgeoning love, impossible choices, and a social experiment that puts a lens on \u003cb\u003ethe power of language to hurt and heal\u003c\/b\u003e.”—\u003cb\u003eNoNieqa Ramos\u003c\/b\u003e, \u003ci\u003eUSA Today\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author of \u003ci\u003eYour Mama\u003c\/i\u003e and \u003ci\u003eBeauty Wake\u003c\/i\u003eAlexandra Villasante's Young Adult novel, \u003ci\u003eThe Grief Keeper,\u003c\/i\u003e won the 2020 Lambda Literary Award for LGBTQ Children’s Literature\/Young Adult Fiction and was a Junior Library Guild Gold Selection. Alex is a contributor to several Young Adult short story anthologies and is a co-founder of the Latinx Kidlit Book Festival and the Latinx Storytellers Conference. When she’s not writing or painting, Alex works for the Highlights Foundation. You can visit Alex at www.alexandravillasante.com\u003cb\u003e29\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003eSebas\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWe walk in silence for about ten minutes. I know the burn scar is coming up in a little bit on the left, and I kind of want them to see it before I say anything about it. But I also want to run my mouth and explain things. I manage to keep silent until Lu stops in their tracks. They slip their phone out of their pocket and start snapping pictures. I watch them framing images, taking notes, and imagine the words they’re pulling together.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI found out about this place from a short posted on the UCLA film school account—I immediately thought of Lu and the night we drove to the cell tower, when they recited that little piece of a poem, \u003ci\u003eNow let the night be dark for all of me\u003c\/i\u003e. This place seemed to have the same vibe. Maybe it will inspire their own poems. Maybe inspire Lu to share some with me someday. Or not. But I’m convinced that they’re happiest when they’re shifting words around in poems, not counting them or saving them.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI walk up close beside them, and they jump a little.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Sorry, in my own world. This is so beautiful. I haven’t seen a recent burn scar in person before. It’s like another planet.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I thought you’d like it. It’s, like, poetic, right? But that’s not actually what I wanted to show you. Follow me.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI’m insanely nervous, like irrationally, out of proportion. As if I’m about to show them a film I made, or a script I wrote. I want them to love it. I want it to make them happy.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI walk into the path of the burn scar, where the ground gets crunchy, looking for the telltale patch of green grass, because that’s where the field should start. When I see the grass, I stop and wait for Lu to catch up. When they do, they’re still taking pictures of the burnt ground, the twigs and stuff. I wait for them to see the field of orange blooms.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFinally, Lu turns to face me, and I know I was right. Their eyes are shining like fire, and the look on their face, it’s like Christmas morning. The sun makes their hair even more golden, their green eyes sparkle like sea glass. I’m lost. \u003ci\u003eShit,\u003c\/i\u003e I think, looking at their beautiful face, and then, \u003ci\u003eI’m in trouble.\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e30\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003eLu\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSebas stops next to a patch of green grass. Weirdly, it’s not a relief to see the green stalks, it’s an affront. Like the green, living things are mocking the land that surrounds them.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThen I see the dots of orange, first just a few, then more and more, floating on the river of green grass that extends far down the slope. The orange-gold petals tremble, like the breeze compels them to dance. In the middle of the burn scar, a ribbon of flowers. It feels like a gift. I turn to Sebas because I realize it is a gift. He’s giving this beautiful thing to me.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe looks away down the hill. “Um, uh, they’re fire poppies. They’re like the coolest flowers ever. The seeds can lie dormant for years, decades, just waiting for a wildfire to wake them up. The smoke and the heat, like, turn them on, make them active, so that a year later, you get these fire poppies showing up right where the hottest parts of the fire were. And they only last a few days, then they disappear again. Waiting until the next, you know.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Catastrophe?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I was going to say \u003ci\u003ewildfire\u003c\/i\u003e, but your word is better.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI bend down to get as close as I can to the fire poppies. They’re spindly and papery. They look like they can’t last, like it’s a mistake they’re here, and yet, here they are. The waved edges of their petals shiver just from my exhaled breath. I take so many pictures of the flowers, the spring green of the stems, the filaments, or whatever they’re called, that poke out of the base of the flowers.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Got enough pictures there, Lu?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI’m lying on the dusty ground, getting close-ups of the flame petals against the backdrop of charred ground and green leaves. I feel like it’s a dream, like it will disappear as soon as I stop looking at it. But I pull myself away and stand up.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Not really. I could look at it forever, you know?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“But they’re not built for forever. Tomorrow or the next day, they’ll be gone. And before you ask, it’s against the rules to take a wildflower out of the park. Also, there’s a fine.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Me? Break a rule? It’s like you don’t know me.” I look down at my clothes. Bits of gravel, burnt wood chips, and dirt cling to the front of my clothes.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Let me help,” Sebas says, brushing the leg of my jeans to get some of the dirt off—which just makes it worse. “Sorry.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“It’s fine, really. Let’s get back to the car before they close the park,” I say.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“We still have a few minutes,” he says, looking uncharacteristically shy. “Will you do something for me?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Sure.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Will you read me some of your poetry?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThat makes me blush hard, I don’t know why.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“About the fire poppy?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“About anything. I love making things, but I’m not good at describing things. Like, how would you describe the fire poppy?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Uh, so just riffing, like, making it up on the spot?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Can you do that?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Maybe?” My voice cracks a little, probably because I thought I was going to say no, but I didn’t.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Could be fun,” Sebas says, showing me his smile, the one that hooks me, reels me in.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I’ll try.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI take a deep breath and face the patch of green among the blackened earth. I open my mouth and pour my words out.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eBlack glass basalt\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eShards of earth melted and pressed\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eBurned away everything but shadow\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eUntil a seedling wakes up to alarm and heat and tragedy\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eWith the message to grow like a weed\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eAn anti-shadow of color against black stains\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eA firebloom\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eTo show the world that flame can heal\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eAnd heat can melt apathy\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eAnd danger can . . . can . . .\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Um.” I falter, running out of steam. For a while, the words were just there, like I was reading them, but then I felt like they weren’t right, or they were almost right but not yet, and I started hunting for better words—that’s why I stopped.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSebas tucks his hair behind his ears with a rueful little laugh.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I would really, really like to kiss you,” he says. His words echo in my head, and there’s a drowning sound in my ears.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Do you think that’s a bad idea?” he asks.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHis onyx-and-silk hair glows blue against the gold of the sky. How could kissing Sebas not be a good idea?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“We should find out,” I say, and reach through his cool hair, cup my hand against the curve of his neck, and pull him to me.","brand":"Nancy Paulsen Books","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":48233170469093,"sku":"NP9780525514053","price":19.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780525514053.jpg?v=1767726950","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/fireblooms-isbn-9780525514053","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}