![]() Tucker, I can’t remember ever crying so much because of an author’s note in the back of a book. And when I finished the story and thought I was done crying, tears leaped in my eyes again. And when I was done staring and hugging and musing, this story pulled the corners of my mouth up again and made my belly flutter and put lumps in my throat. I hope they’re still alive and doing well. I thought of those boys I knew back then, Rick and Rick, and the red-head with his harem full of girls (if you ever read this, you know it’s you). I smiled and I cried and I got goosebumps and I watched in the distance. ![]() And because the story made me feel so much. Because the writing is so vivid and descriptive, I could feel the wind, see the parks, hear the traffic, smell the food. And at the same time, I want to shout out about When You Call My Name. I’m speechless I don’t have many words to say. And this review is my dedication to Callum. A dedication to the late eighties and early nineties. It’s a dedication to all those young people who lost their lives to AIDS. Pitched as a young adult novel, When You Call My Name is so much more. ![]() When You Call My Name is not perfect, the pop references were a bit too much, and still, I want to rate this story a million stars. Actually, for anyone who cherishes unforgettable books. For 40- and 50-somethings who remember those years. For teens who want to know more about AIDS. ![]()
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