Sunburn is an undoubtedly apt title, this story feels raw. It feels like the blissful enjoyment of the suns warmth, only to step into some shade and feel your skin tight, sensitive to the touch. Until you’re forced to shed the old skin and make way for something new.

I can’t help but also think, the way first love burns into our DNA, the first true heartbreak, the way it sears itself into who we are from that point on. This book excellently touches on not only romantic breakups but friendship breakup - which can be equally as devastating. When you are put to it, do you choose between the true meaningful friendship or a deep genuine love?

My only critique is that it felt maybe 50-100 pages too long. I’m torn though, despite me feeling it drags just a little before the end, part of me thinks that’s what made this feel so honest? The dwelling on a secret, on a significant moment you know will impact your life but have no idea just how positively or negatively. Weighing the potential loss without knowing how much there is to gain. Feeling that tear in different directions like skin cracking open.The dragging arguably adds to that finality, that moment where so many people falter. Where you know this is your moment to choose yourself.

The way it’s written - like a friend catching you up. Lucy herself is poetic and dramatic, lending itself beautifully to the the all consuming first love. It doesn’t quite feel like a story Lucy is recalling from years ago, in some way we feel like the silent friend, the only person to fully understand her (even more so than Suzanna) whilst she’s going through it, and your heart bleeds all the more because of it.

When we talk about classics, this does feel timeless, the aching, the secretive nature, the guilt. It’s avoided being dated just enough to blend into an authentic timeless journey. I don’t want to label it a queer classic, as sometimes that can hinder these books breaking the barrier, but, for anyone queer in particular, it feels like a must read.