Alice, a novelist, meets Felix, who works in a warehouse, and asks him if he’d like to travel to Rome with her. In Dublin, her best friend, Eileen, is getting over a break-up and slips back into flirting with Simon, a man she has known since childhood. Alice, Felix, Eileen, and Simon are still young—but life is catching up with them. They desire each other, they delude each other, they get together, they break apart. They have sex, they worry about sex, they worry about their friendships and the world they live in.

Are they standing in the last lighted room before the darkness, bearing witness to something? Will they find a way to believe in a beautiful world?

In an American suburb in the early 1980s, students at a highly competitive performing arts high school struggle and thrive in a rarified bubble, ambitiously pursuing music, movement, Shakespeare, and, particularly, their acting classes. When within this striving “Brotherhood of the Arts,” two freshmen, David and Sarah, fall headlong into love, their passion does not go unnoticed—or untoyed with—by anyone, especially not by their charismatic acting teacher, Mr. Kingsley.

The outside world of family life and economic status, of academic pressure and of their future adult lives, fails to penetrate this school’s walls—until it does, in a shocking spiral of events that catapults the action forward in time and flips the premise upside-down. What the reader believes to have happened to David and Sarah and their friends is not entirely true—though it's not false, either. It takes until the book’s stunning coda for the final piece of the puzzle to fall into place—revealing truths that will resonate long after the final sentence.

As captivating and tender as it is surprising, Susan Choi's Trust Exercise will incite heated conversations about fiction and truth, and about friendships and loyalties, and will leave readers with wiser understandings of the true capacities of adolescents and of the powers and responsibilities of adults.

Encouraged by Fukiishi to stand up for himself, Seiichi exploded in a moment of rage, telling his mother Seiko, "I don't need you"—the first rebellious act of his young life. Now Fukiishi has offered him sanctuary in her room, hidden from her father and away from the watchful eyes of his own parents.

But as Seiichi fumbles toward sexual awakening, his mother's specter is never far from his mind... Shuzo Oshimi's masterwork of psychological terror continues, as Seiichi struggles to navigate the tangled web of his competing emotions. Meanwhile, Seiko's desperate search for her son brings her to Fukiishi's doorstep...

The Argonauts by Maggie Nelson is a genre-bending memoir that intertwines the author's personal narrative with a deep engagement in literary and theoretical texts. At the heart of this work is a story of romance between Nelson and her partner, artist Harry Dodge, whose experiences of gender transition and reassignment intersect with Nelson's journey through pregnancy.

This reflective, poignant exploration of motherhood, desire, and identity is grounded in an intimate portrayal of the author's queer family life. Nelson challenges the societal norms surrounding sexuality, gender, marriage, and childrearing, advocating for radical individual freedom and the value of caregiving.

Through her narrative, Nelson conducts a rigorous examination of philosophical and theoretical discourses, tracing the contours of what iconic theorists have to say about the complexities of contemporary social structures. The Argonauts is thus not only a memoir but also an impassioned argument for the embracement of unorthodox forms of love and kinship in the modern age.