Can you actually move on from someone when every single thing reminds you of them?
I started this one during Sophie's nap - which, miracle of miracles, lasted a full hour and forty minutes on a Tuesday. I was folding laundry on the couch, earbuds in, and somewhere between matching tiny socks and listening to Belly try to convince herself she's over Conrad Fisher, I just... stopped folding. Sat there with a half-matched sock in my hand like some kind of laundry zombie because Jenny Han had me right back in that specific flavor of teenage heartbreak where you know you should let go but your stupid heart won't cooperate.
The Summer That Didn't Happen (Until It Did)
So here's the setup: Belly's not going to Cousins Beach. First summer ever. She's supposed to be moving on - hanging with Taylor, going to parties, doing the whole "I'm fine, totally fine" thing that exactly zero people in the history of breakups have ever actually meant. And honestly? The first chunk of the book felt so real it made me uncomfortable. That forced cheerfulness, the way she's trying to build a life that doesn't revolve around Conrad - I remember being that girl. Different boy, different beach, same pathetic attempt at dignity.
But then Jeremiah calls. Conrad's gone. Missing. And Belly's in the car before she's even finished the conversation, which tells you everything you need to know about how "over it" she really is.
What surprised me - and I genuinely didn't expect this from a YA sequel - is how much this book is actually about Jeremiah. The first book set him up as the fun brother, the easy choice, the one who doesn't make everything complicated. But here Jenny Han peels that back and you see him struggling with his own feelings for Belly while simultaneously being terrified about his brother. There's this tension between loyalty and wanting something for yourself that felt way more grown-up than I was prepared for.
Ana Elena Bittencourt and the Portuguese Question
Okay, so this is the Brazilian Portuguese edition, and I want to be straight with you - I don't have a ton of detail on Ana Elena Bittencourt's specific performance choices. What I can tell you is that at 7 hours, this is a tight listen. Jenny Han's writing is already pretty spare and dialogue-driven, so in audio format it moves. I knocked it out in basically five days of my normal routine (drop-off, nap time, car time, repeat), which for me is practically speedreading.
The single-narrator format works here because so much of this story lives inside Belly's head. You're in her perspective almost exclusively, and the internal back-and-forth she does - wanting Conrad, appreciating Jeremiah, being angry at both of them, being angry at herself - that's the engine of the whole thing. A full cast would've actually undercut it, I think. You need to be trapped in Belly's messy feelings the way she's trapped in them.
The Love Triangle Problem (That Isn't Really a Problem)
Look, I know love triangles are polarizing. Half the internet is Team Conrad, half is Team Jeremiah, and people have Opinions. But what Jenny Han does well - and what kept me listening through three separate Sophie-woke-up-early interruptions without losing the thread - is make both options feel genuinely complicated. Conrad isn't just the brooding jerk. Jeremiah isn't just the nice guy. They're brothers dealing with real family stuff (their mom, Susannah - and if you read book one, you know why that hits different), and Belly isn't some prize to be won. She's a teenage girl figuring out that the person you want and the person who's good for you might not be the same person. That same push-pull between want and wisdom runs through Midnight Sun too, though Edward's version of restraint is considerably more dramatic than anything Belly pulls off.
Is it groundbreaking literature? No. But sometimes you don't need groundbreaking. Sometimes you need a book that remembers exactly what it felt like to be seventeen and confused and sitting on a beach at night wondering if the boy next to you is going to kiss you or break your heart. Jenny Han remembers. She always remembers.
Fair warning though - this one ends on a turn that'll make you immediately want book three. I was sitting in my car in the garage, already ten minutes past when I should've gone inside, and that ending hit and I literally said "oh COME ON" out loud. To my phone. Like it could hear me.
If you loved the first book or binged the Prime Video series, this is the bridge that gets you to the real payoff. It's messier than book one, a little sadder, a little more grown-up. Survived 47 pauses and still made sense. Car time approved.
Just maybe have book three downloaded and ready. Trust me on that.
