Venus, The Planet of Us
by PageCrave Editorial
Leilani Jordan has two rules for surviving English class: keep her head down, and never let a pretty girl catch her staring. Then her teacher pairs her with Sam Chapman — the tall, steady girl from the back row who just calmly dismantled the class loudmouth's theory that women belong in the kitchen — and both rules die the moment Sam leans over and says, "Wassup, Leilani."
Their assignment is only supposed to last two weeks. Instead it turns into car-ride concerts with the aux cord handed over like a ceremony, a smoothie called Sunrise Sunset that tastes like the beginning of everything, and a fair where Sam wins her stuffed animals, kisses her forehead at the gate, and walks her to the door like the night should slow down on purpose. Sam is easy to fall for. She opens every door, remembers every order, and calls her "bubba" like it has been true for years. Leilani's family falls just as fast: her mama sees everything before a word is spoken, her daddy claims the couch for grown folks business, and the whole house quietly makes room for Sam once it becomes clear that her own home is the most dangerous place she knows.
Because Sam is carrying a father who reads her confidence as defiance and her girlfriend as an insult, a man whose temper has been getting louder for years. Leilani cannot fix that. All she can do is keep her door open — and one night, when the usual "made it home safe" text never arrives, that open door becomes the bravest thing her family has ever done. And when Sam's birthday rolls around, Leilani answers all that heaviness with a surprise: a beach trip to Destin, their two best friends in on the plan, sunshine booked in bulk.
Set in a Southern city where church pews, group chats, and front-porch opinions all have claims on who you are allowed to be, this is a slow-burn romance about two young women building something steady inside the noise: a story that treats softness as strength, that believes in chosen family, and that finds its courage in the most ordinary question in the world, asked out loud — "Can I kiss you?" — and answered, "Yes."
The tension is real, and so are the boundaries. Expect hands at the waist, foreheads touching, knuckles brushed under blankets, and a door that closes gently when the moment finally comes. Nothing explicit; everything felt.
Named for the planet that burns closest to the sun and shines brightest in the morning sky, this book is not really about astronomy. It is about a love that refuses to cool, told in small, stubborn gestures — a seatbelt reminder, a nickname kept like a promise, a bowl of strawberries shared without asking. By the time the beach lights come up on the last morning and the waves roll in slow and even, you will understand why the title was never about a planet at all.
It was about the planet of us.
In our reading guide: The terms were clear. Nobody followed them.
