Excerpt from We Deserve Monuments by Jas Hammonds, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

I looked at Dad. "What's going on?"

"What's going on," Dad said, "is that we lovingly agreed to take the luxurious pull-out couch in the back den to give you some privacy."

I narrowed my eyes. He knew that wasn't what I meant. "Dad, seriously. What is up with Mom and Mama Letty?"

His smile dimmed. "They'll be fine. It's going to be a trying time, but remember what we talked about?"

"We're here for support," I parroted. "And this situation is temporary."

"Exactly. All of this is temporary. We'll stay out of Mama Letty's way, and everything will be fine."

I wanted to press further, but based on Mom's disappearance and the return of Dad's wisecracking smile, I was out of luck for now. So I nodded, the ever-dutiful daughter.

Dad clapped my shoulder. "Anderson family motto?"

"Focus forward."

"Focus forward!" He pointed down the hall, past Mama Letty's closed door. "Your room's that way."

* * *

Entering Mom's old bedroom felt like stepping thirty years back in time. Dozens of textbooks and sci-fi novels crowded the built-ins along the wall. The dingy yellow carpet smelled faintly of mildew. Posters of Janet Jackson and Whitney Houston covered the wood-paneled closet doors. Above the bed was a glossy diagram of the solar system, poor little Pluto hovering at the edge, unaware of her fate.

I tossed my duffel bag on the floor and wandered over to the rolltop desk wedged in the corner. I gave the plastered window two strong pulls, sneezing as dirt and dust drifted into my nostrils. With a final push, the room flooded with sunlight. I had the perfect view of the side of the Coles' house. The image of Simone's finger trailing her lip flashed through my mind. I quickly shut it down and plopped into the desk chair.

I would not—could not—go down that road. Not after my breakup with Kelsi, not on this MAGA turf. Besides. Simone was probably straight. Probably dating some buff guy on the football team—if Beckwith Academy even had a football team. I took a deep breath and grounded myself like Mom taught me, replaying my conversation with Dad.

Focus forward. The Anderson family motto had gotten me through every roadblock in my life. When Grandma Jean died in eighth grade, I kept the sadness at bay by crafting the perfect life plan to make her proud. I set my sights on straight As and a Georgetown acceptance—focus forward. During the pandemic, I gritted my teeth as I watched my high school experience slip away one canceled plan at a time—focus forward. I clung to the motto as I watched the nightly news in horror, telling myself things would eventually get better, that they had to. I had to keep my focus forward. Same as I had to see this stint in Bardell through.

Get in. Get out. No drama. Focus forward.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I rolled my eyes. Kelsi and Hikari hadn't stopped texting, even though I hadn't replied since a rest stop in Virginia. They were making good on their promise that our friendship wouldn't change after Kelsi and I broke up, even though things were clearly not the same. They were trying to re-create the magic that had glued the three of us together since freshman year, either unaware or choosing to ignore my icy aloofness. I scrolled through the new messages and felt nothing.

Hikari: Yooo I got Lentz for AP Comp fml.

Kelsi: She gives great rec letters tho.

Hikari: Avery where you at? Have you made it to the land down under?

Kelsi: I still can't believe you won't be here this year.

Hikari: Kels who did you get for AP Chem?

Kelsi: Jones for Chem. Toth for AP Physics.

Hikari: Can't believe you're taking both.

"Neck gone get stuck staring at that phone all day."

I looked up to see Mama Letty leaning against the doorframe. Her eyes combed over my new bedroom, somehow ending on my lip ring again. I awkwardly stood.

Excerpted from We Deserve Monuments by Jas Hammonds. Copyright © 2022 by Jas Hammonds. Excerpted by permission of Roaring Brook Press. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.