It’s Not Summer Without You – Jenny Han (2010)

It’s Not Summer Without You by Jenny Han, published in 2010, is the second installment in the beloved Summer trilogy. This poignant young adult novel continues the story of Isabel “Belly” Conklin as she navigates the turbulence of grief, growing up, and first love in the aftermath of a devastating loss. Set largely in the familiar haven of Cousins Beach, the novel delves deeper into the emotional complexities that began in The Summer I Turned Pretty, offering readers a heart-wrenching look at how seasons and people inevitably change.

Plot Summary

The summer no longer smelled like saltwater and sunscreen. Everything that once shimmered in the golden light of Cousins Beach had dimmed. Susannah was gone. Her absence rippled through every familiar place and person, leaving shadows where sunlight used to fall. Belly Conklin felt it most in the stillness – in the ache of mornings that didn’t begin with laughter, in parties where her heart sat elsewhere, and in the gaping silence where Conrad Fisher used to be.

It had been two months since Susannah’s death. Belly should have been lying poolside at the summer house, chasing the ocean, and pretending her heart wasn’t tangled in a boy’s crooked smile. Instead, she was at home, counting days, drifting through July with her best friend Taylor and trying – and failing – to forget. Every place without Conrad was a reminder of the last summer and the one kiss that held everything she believed in. But grief makes strangers of even the closest hearts, and Conrad had pulled away, vanishing not only from her life but, suddenly, from his own.

The call came early one morning. Jeremiah’s voice cracked through the receiver – Conrad was missing. He’d walked away from summer school, from his exams, from everyone who might’ve tethered him to something stable. And just like that, everything snapped back into motion. Belly didn’t hesitate. She packed fast, left a trail of worry behind for her mother, and waited for Jeremiah to pick her up. Some things couldn’t be explained. Some things just had to be done.

Jeremiah drove like he had something to chase. They didn’t know where Conrad had gone, only that he wasn’t where he was supposed to be. That he was unraveling, just like the summer. They traced pieces of him – phone calls unanswered, clues picked from silence. And then, like a note scribbled in the margin of a forgotten book, they found him. The summer house stood quiet and ghosted by memory, and inside it, Conrad, thinner, harder, tucked into himself like a boy who had lost more than he could say.

He hadn’t meant to be found, and he didn’t welcome them warmly. But they stayed. Jeremiah, ever the bridge between feelings and reason, tried to pull him back. Belly, wrapped in quiet hurt, watched him resist. Conrad’s grief was a fortress – not even Jeremiah could climb over it. But something in the house softened the edges, something in the wind off the sea made it impossible to keep pretending. Susannah’s house wasn’t just a house. It was a memory made of salt, cereal boxes, laughter – a world they all belonged to.

Together, the three of them moved through the house like shadows. They made food they barely ate, cleaned rooms that echoed with ghosts. Belly, pulled between past and present, found herself looking at Jeremiah differently. He smiled through the hurt. He cared loudly, without fear. And still, her heart betrayed her. It tilted always, inevitably, toward Conrad – the boy who broke her heart and didn’t know how to hold it.

Jeremiah didn’t miss the way she looked at his brother. It hurt him, but he carried it quietly, like a bruise. Still, he didn’t step back. When Belly cried on the deck in the middle of the night, Jeremiah held her hand. When Conrad slipped further away, Jeremiah didn’t give up. He never gave up.

The reason for Conrad’s escape became clear. Their father, Mr. Fisher, planned to sell the summer house. It wasn’t just a building to Conrad – it was his mother’s heart, still beating in wood and windows. Letting it go felt like losing her all over again. He came back to protect it, even if it meant standing alone.

But he wasn’t alone anymore. Belly and Jeremiah joined the fight. They confronted Mr. Fisher, who had drifted into cold distance since Susannah’s passing. There were arguments, raw and unfiltered. And in one of those moments, Belly stood tall, refusing to let her grief be dismissed. She wasn’t a child anymore, not the girl in a sundress with salt on her cheeks. She demanded to be heard. And something in her voice made even the quietest heart pause.

In the pause that followed, Conrad finally unraveled. He spoke of Susannah, of promises and pain, and of the reason he pushed everyone away – including Belly. He said it with all the vulnerability he could summon, but not the words she had once longed to hear. Still, it was enough to make the silence bearable.

That night, everything shifted.

They had done what they could. Mr. Fisher agreed not to sell the house – not yet. Conrad had to return to school. Jeremiah and Belly would go back home. But before they left, under the stars and the hush of the sea, Jeremiah kissed her. Soft, uncertain, full of hope. It was a question wrapped in affection. Belly didn’t pull away.

The ride back wasn’t filled with laughter or clarity. It was quiet. Belly stared out the window while the road blurred past. Her heart was heavier, but not with confusion. It was full – with sorrow, with memory, with the ache of having loved deeply and lost. And something else too. A flicker. The thought that maybe, just maybe, what lay ahead wasn’t about forgetting, but about remembering differently.

Back home, the summer continued. There were parties and late nights, friends who didn’t understand the weight Belly carried. But something had changed in her. She no longer waited for summer to fix everything. She no longer believed that a kiss could save a broken boy. Still, she didn’t stop loving the sea, or Cousins, or the way Conrad once looked at her like she was the only girl in the world.

Some loves don’t end – they settle, they shift, they sleep. Belly wasn’t sure what would happen next. But for the first time, she wasn’t afraid to find out.

Main Characters

• Isabel “Belly” Conklin – The emotional center of the story, Belly is caught between childhood and adulthood, struggling with the death of Susannah, her feelings for both Conrad and Jeremiah, and her place in the world without the constants of past summers. Sensitive, loyal, and introspective, Belly’s growth is quietly powerful, marked by heartbreak and resilience.

• Conrad Fisher – Brooding and emotionally repressed, Conrad carries the heaviest burden of his mother’s death. His disappearance from summer school becomes the catalyst for the story. Through his distance and detachment, Conrad reveals the depth of his love and sorrow, often pushing others away in the process.

• Jeremiah Fisher – Warm, humorous, and steadfast, Jeremiah is the emotional foil to his older brother Conrad. He reaches out to Belly for help when Conrad disappears, and his own feelings for Belly slowly surface, complicating their friendship and family dynamics.

• Susannah Beck Fisher – Though she has passed away at the start of the novel, Susannah’s presence looms large over every chapter. Her love, spirit, and loss shape the emotional lives of the characters, and she remains a symbolic heart of the story.

• Laurel Dunne (Belly’s mother) – Stoic and practical, Laurel grieves quietly, taking on responsibilities in the wake of her best friend’s death. Her composed exterior hides a deep sorrow, and her maternal strength is a stabilizing force throughout the narrative.

• Taylor Jewel – Belly’s outspoken and sometimes overbearing best friend. Taylor pushes Belly toward new experiences and offers comic relief, though her insensitive moments highlight the emotional disconnect between those who have lost deeply and those who haven’t.

Theme

• Grief and Loss – The loss of Susannah permeates every page. Each character copes in a distinct way, and the novel tenderly examines how absence can redefine a place, a summer, and a life.

• The Complexity of Love – Romantic love, familial love, and friendship are all tested in the wake of tragedy. Belly’s enduring feelings for Conrad are shadowed by his grief, while Jeremiah’s loyalty is laced with longing, creating a tangled web of affection and pain.

• Coming of Age – Belly’s journey from innocence to self-awareness forms the emotional backbone of the story. Her understanding of herself and others matures, showing that growing up often means accepting difficult truths and letting go.

• Memory and Nostalgia – The summer house at Cousins Beach becomes a vessel for memory, where each room, scent, and sound recalls better times. The longing for “what used to be” contrasts sharply with the need to move forward, making nostalgia a bittersweet presence.

• Escape and Responsibility – Conrad’s disappearance isn’t just literal – it’s symbolic of the desire to avoid pain. The book explores how characters either confront or flee from their responsibilities, with varying consequences.

Writing Style and Tone

Jenny Han’s writing in It’s Not Summer Without You is graceful, emotionally resonant, and richly textured. She writes with a lyrical softness that mirrors the hazy, golden melancholy of summer days remembered. Her language is intimate and confessional, often filtered through Belly’s tender, uncertain perspective. Dialogue is sharp and honest, especially when emotions are raw, capturing the cadence of adolescent heartbreak with sincerity.

The tone of the novel is wistful, mourning not just the death of a loved one but the death of a certain kind of summer – carefree, innocent, eternal. Han’s storytelling flows with poetic rhythm, blending scenes of reflective stillness with moments of emotional intensity. Her use of dual perspectives, particularly Jeremiah’s occasional chapters, adds dimension and emotional depth, revealing how grief and love ripple differently through each character. Through all of this, Han maintains a balance between heaviness and hope, never losing sight of the beauty in sadness or the resilience of the young heart.