Is 'It'S Not Summer Without You' A Sequel To 'The Summer I Turned Pretty'?

Reading 'It's Not Summer Without You' was an emotional rollercoaster, especially with how the story handles loss and grief. The character who dies is Conrad and Jeremiah's mother, Susannah Fisher. Her death isn't just a plot point—it's the heart of the story, shaping everything the boys and Belly go through. Susannah’s battle with cancer is mentioned throughout the book, but her actual death happens before the events of this sequel, casting a long shadow over everyone. The way Jenny Han writes about grief is so raw and real. You feel Conrad’s anger, Jeremiah’s attempts to stay strong, and Belly’s confusion as she navigates her feelings for both brothers while mourning someone who was like a second mother to her. What makes Susannah’s death hit harder is how present she still feels. Flashbacks and memories keep her alive in the characters’ minds, especially during their summer at Cousins Beach. The house itself feels haunted by her absence, and every interaction between the characters is tinged with what they’ve lost. Conrad’s spiral into depression, Jeremiah’s reckless behavior, and even Belly’s conflicted emotions all tie back to Susannah. The book doesn’t just focus on the sadness, though—it shows how grief can push people apart or pull them together, sometimes both at once. The way Han explores these relationships makes the loss feel even more personal, like you’re mourning alongside them.

In 'It's Not Summer Without You', Jeremiah's proposal is this impulsive, heart-on-his-sleeve moment that perfectly captures his character. He doesn't plan some grand romantic gesture—instead, it happens during this raw, emotional conversation with Belly at the beach house. The setting itself is nostalgic, filled with all their summer memories, which makes the moment feel both tender and a bit melancholic. Jeremiah pulls out this cheap plastic ring from a convenience store, the kind you'd get from a vending machine, and just asks her. It's not fancy, but there's something painfully genuine about it. He's always been the spontaneous one, the guy who acts on his emotions without overthinking, and this proposal is exactly that—unfiltered and full of hope. The scene stands out because it contrasts so sharply with Conrad's more reserved, calculated approach to love. Jeremiah wears his heartbreak and longing openly, and the proposal feels like his way of trying to hold onto something that’s slipping away. The plastic ring becomes symbolic—it's fragile, temporary, but in that moment, it represents everything he wants. What’s interesting is how Belly reacts. She says yes, but there’s hesitation, a quiet awareness that this might be more about Jeremiah’s fear of losing her than a forever kind of love. The proposal isn’t just a plot point; it’s this messy, human moment that tells you so much about both of them.

Susannah's death in 'It's Not Summer Without You' hit me hard because it wasn't just a random tragedy—it felt inevitable yet deeply unfair. From the moment her cancer diagnosis is revealed earlier in the series, you know this story isn't going to have a miracle cure. Jenny Han writes her decline with such raw honesty that it aches. Susannah isn't just a mother figure to Belly; she's the emotional core that holds both families together. Her death shatters the fragile balance between Belly, Conrad, and Jeremiah, forcing them to confront grief in ways they aren't ready for. The beauty of Susannah's character is how her warmth lingers even as she fades. Her final scenes aren't about dramatic last words but quiet moments—teaching Belly to make her favorite sandwich, joking weakly about her bald head. That's what makes the loss so brutal. The summer house loses its magic because Susannah was the one who created it. Without her, the boys' motherly affection turns into angry grief, and Belly's romantic dreams crash into adulthood's harsh realities. Han uses Susannah's death not just for tears but to show how death doesn't end relationships—it just changes how we carry them.

I just finished 'It's Not Summer Without You' and the whole Belly-Conrad dynamic had me glued to the pages. The book takes their relationship through such a rollercoaster of emotions that it’s hard not to feel invested. At this point in the series, Belly and Conrad don’t end up together. The story shows them grappling with grief, misunderstandings, and their own personal growth. Conrad’s emotional distance and Belly’s need for something more stable create this heartbreaking rift between them. The beach house setting adds this layer of nostalgia that makes their failed connection even more poignant. What’s interesting is how the book sets up Jeremiah as a viable alternative. He’s there for Belly in ways Conrad isn’t, offering comfort and a sense of security when everything feels like it’s falling apart. The love triangle isn’t just about who Belly chooses—it’s about what she needs at that moment in her life. Conrad represents this idealized first love, but Jeremiah feels more present, more real. The ending leaves things open enough that you can see why some readers might hold out hope for Conrad in the next book, but for now, Belly’s path is taking her in a different direction.

The beach house in 'It's Not Summer Without You' becomes this emotional battleground where past and present collide. Conrad shows up there first, totally wrecked after his mother's death, just wanting to escape everything. Then Belly arrives, determined to fix whatever's broken between them, even though neither of them really knows how. The house itself feels like another character - all those summer memories clinging to the walls, but now everything's different. They tiptoe around each other at first, making small talk that doesn't mean anything, until Jeremiah crashes the party and suddenly all three of them are stuck in this awkward triangle. The real turning point comes when they have this massive fight that's been brewing for months. Belly finally calls Conrad out for pushing everyone away, Jeremiah loses it because he's tired of being second choice, and Conrad just looks devastated because he doesn't know how to admit he's drowning in grief. After the explosion, things get quieter but heavier. There's this moment where Belly and Conrad sit on the beach at night, not talking much but finally being honest in that silence. The house becomes this temporary shelter where they all start facing hard truths - about Susannah's death, about their messed-up love triangle, about growing up and how it changes everything.

Summer glow-ups start with skincare! I’ve been obsessed with hydrating mists and SPF 50 sunscreen to protect my skin from UV damage. Mornings include cold jade rollers and green tea toners for that dewy look. Evenings are all about retinol serums and gua sha massages. I also mix in weekly DIY masks—turmeric for brightness, honey for moisture. Hydration isn’t just external: coconut water, herbal teas, and cutting back on salty snacks keep me glowing from within. Oh, and swapping heavy makeup for tinted moisturizer lets my skin breathe! "

The song 'When I Met You in the Summer' holds such a nostalgic vibe for me. It beautifully captures the feeling of summer love and the innocence that comes with it. There’s something about the lyrics that takes me back to carefree days spent with friends, soaking up the sun, and making unforgettable memories. The imagery of sunsets and warm nights makes it all feel so alive, almost like a gentle reminder of fleeting moments. It's a song I love to play during summer drives and beach trips, as it fills me with joy and plenty of emotion. Perfect for those longing for a bit of romance!

Reading 'Bed in Summer' by Robert Louis Stevenson, the protagonist isn't named directly, but the poem centers on a child's perspective, likely reflecting Stevenson's own childhood memories. The speaker describes the frustration of going to bed while it's still bright outside during summer evenings, contrasting it with winter when they rise in darkness. This innocent voice carries the entire narrative, making the child the clear focal point. The beauty of this poem lies in how it captures universal childhood experiences. The protagonist's complaints about bedtime rules feel relatable—anyone who's been forced to sleep while daylight lingered understands that struggle. Stevenson masterfully uses simple language to convey complex emotions, with the child's voice alternating between petulance and wonder. The protagonist becomes a vessel for exploring themes of time, seasons, and youthful rebellion against adult-imposed schedules. What fascinates me most is how this unnamed child represents all children. The lack of specific identity actually strengthens the poem's impact, allowing readers to project their own memories onto the protagonist. Stevenson didn't need to name this character because their experiences name them—they're every kid who ever watched sunset colors through their bedroom window, counting minutes until official 'sleep time.' That anonymity makes the protagonist more powerful, transforming a personal memory into a shared cultural experience.