Miles, a musically talented white teen from the suburbs of Milwaukee, has two New Year’s resolutions. The first is to win back his ex-boyfriend, Shane, who ended their relationship after Miles came out as trans. The other is to finally beat his rival at this year’s Tri-State classical piano competition. To prepare for the latter, Miles begins lessons with Stefania, a highly skilled instructor for advanced pianists. Stern and intimidating though she may be, Stefania embraces Miles’s trans and queer identities. Insisting that self-knowledge will translate into a stronger musical performance, she encourages Miles to reflect on who he truly is and why he plays. As the year goes on, Miles faces challenges both within and outside of his control. He begins dating new student Eric even as he struggles to let go of Shane, and he is deeply hurt by the transphobic attitudes of a few people within his piano community. Notably, though, Miles finds strength in the support of his family members and friends as well as in his music. True to Stefania’s word, when Miles leans into the joy of being trans and gay, his performance shines. Alongside Miles’s heartfelt personal journey, this debut novel excels at depicting the—perhaps surprising—excitement, tension, and high stakes of an elite piano competition. (Age 14 and older)

A trans pianist makes a New Year's resolution on a frozen Wisconsin night to win regionals and win back his ex, but a new boy complicates things in Edward Underhill's heartfelt debut YA rom-dram, Always the Almost.

Sixteen-year-old trans boy Miles Jacobson has two New Year’s resolutions: 1) win back his ex-boyfriend (and star of the football team) Shane McIntyre, and 2) finally beat his slimy arch-nemesis at the Midwest’s biggest classical piano competition. But that’s not going to be so easy. For one thing, Shane broke up with Miles two weeks after Miles came out as trans, and now Shane’s stubbornly ignoring him, even when they literally bump into each other. Plus, Miles’ new, slightly terrifying piano teacher keeps telling him that he’s playing like he “doesn’t know who he is”—whatever that means.

Then Miles meets the new boy in town, Eric Mendez, a proudly queer cartoonist from Seattle who asks his pronouns, cares about art as much as he does—and makes his stomach flutter. Not what he needs to be focusing on right now. But after Eric and Miles pretend to date so they can score an invite to a couples-only Valentine’s party, the ruse turns real with a kiss, which is also definitely not in the plan. If only Miles could figure out why Eric likes him so much. After all, it's not like he’s cool or confident or comfortable in his own skin. He’s not even good enough at piano to get his fellow competitors to respect him, especially now, as Miles. Nothing’s ever been as easy for him as for other people—other boys. He’s only ever been almost enough.

So why, when he’s with Eric, does it feel like the only person he’s ever really not been enough for...is himself?