In which two teenagers find love in the warm summer days, and cool sweater weather nights.

COMPLETED | Just like the snowflakes falling from the sky, he was precious. At the same time, delicate and fragile.

We hope you'll be inspired, shocked, amused, and touched by this selection of letters from the DearTeenMe.com website. 'How awesome would it be if authors wrote letters to their teen selves?' A year and a half later, you can pick up DEAR TEEN ME from Zest Books, read more on the website, or just kick back and enjoy the selection we'll be posting here. Co-curators: E. Kristin Anderson and Priya Chand. The individual letters are property of the contributing authors. We can't guarantee your head won't explode from the mix of angst and excitement, but you *will* enjoy the ride.

❝boys like him don't fall in love with sad girls.❞

❝ he watched her from the balcony, eyes lit up with the promise of the night, she didn't see him however, but that didn't matter; all that mattered was how luke felt for her ❞ © ocaenics (was @ trashlouis) || 2014. all rights reserved

Where a naive girl with lots of baggage and a rockstar that can't seem to think of anyone but himself fall in love over the span of 24 hours

Two stubborn teenagers meet unexpectedly. Both grief stricken and guarded, Maddie soon becomes Michael's lighthouse. Copyright © fluffycashton 2018. All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

He taps his foot against the carpeted floor of his therapist's office, wondering if he should say it. If he should even say her name out loud. He hasn't done that in at least a year. He'd never say it; especially not in front of his friends. As the therapist, a middle-aged woman in a grey pantsuit, takes notes on his progress, he clears his throat and decides to speak, "She's coming back from California. Today." She looks up, "Who?" It takes him a while. He has to work up the nerve to say it. "Maddie," he says, picking at his nails. He only mentioned her name once, in his first session last year, but the therapist nods. She was the only good thing he's ever mentioned. "Something bad happened, I think." Cover art by Brigid Vaughn (burdge on deviant art) #freementalillness