Theo, an elite ballerina, walks late into dance class only to see the usual accompanist has been replaced by Hosea — the guy she kind of knows from school, who is dating a girl she kind of knows. But what she really knows is Hosea is one of the big suppliers of the pot she and her friends are able to score when they need it.
As much Pointe by Brandy Colbert is a story about a relationship that develops between Theo and Hosea, it’s also not a story about their relationship.
This is a story about what happens when Donovan, Theo’s neighbor and best friend, suddenly comes back home four years after being kidnapped. When he won’t talk to anyone.
When Donovan won’t talk to anyone.
Because this book is complex and encompasses a lot of story within it — and successfully so — this review is full of spoilers. There’s a lot I want to talk about, and avoiding the big issues in the sake of avoiding talking about a big plot issue won’t work for me. Proceed at your own caution.
Colbert’s debut novel tackles a huge array of topics within it, but it does so by carefully braiding together threads of Theo’s past with the reality and immediacy of the present. There are balls in the air for her, including the return of Donovan, the future of gaining admission to another level of ballet that would set her on the track to big stages and a career in the art, and the budding romance with Hosea. Theo’s juggling time with her close friends, as well: she’s a girl who is social and who would never be seen as a wallflower nor the kind of person who would stay home at night, rather than go to the school dance or a party. Though it might be in her better interests not to.
In the midst of juggling the responsibilities of now, particularly the emerging romance between her and Hosea, flashbacks to life four years ago begin popping up. Slowly, Theo remembers the relationship she had with an older boy named Trent. He loved to have sex with her, and sometimes she liked it, while other times, she felt like she was being used. But Trent being eighteen and she being much younger, she went along with it. That relationship — secret to her friends and her family — made her feel good and wanted. It made her feel powerful. An older boy who physically showed her he was interested in her.
That relationship with Trent, though, wasn’t entirely a secret to Donovan. Theo met Trent when she was hanging out with Donovan. He knew they had something going on, though the extent to which he knew remains in the air.
Backpedalling a bit, though: what about those four interim years between the time Donovan disappeared and when he returned? That’s where things become really interesting, and the memories that bubble up from Theo serve as a means of giving us as readers a true sense of not just who she was, but who she’s become now. We know she’s a dancer. We know she has a future ahead of her. But we also know losing her best friend and losing the first boyfriend of her life and the stress of being a dancer couldn’t be easy. Theo spent many of those interim years struggling with an eating disorder, one she held secret until she blacked out at the mall with one of her friends. The eating disorder was her means of holding control over something completely on her own. It ultimately got her institutionalized, and it’s something from which she never quite recovered. Donovan’s return home also retriggers the eating disorder. But not because of his presence; it’s because of what his return brings up in Theo’s past.
When Theo learns that the name of the man who kidnapped Donovan is Chris, things unhinge. When Theo puts the pieces together and realizes her Trent was never the person he said he was. He was never eighteen. He was in his twenties. And his name wasn’t Trent.
It was Chris. The same Chris who pled not guilty to kidnapping Donovan and the same Chris against whom Theo will have to testify in order to seek justice for Donovan.
The same Chris who raped Theo. Who took advantage of her being underage and naive. The same Chris who raped Theo no one knows about until that very trial.
Colbert weaves in an array of “issues” within Pointe, and while it could have become easily overwhelming, Theo’s amazing development as a character keeps them all together smoothly. Theo is a tough girl who doesn’t take crap from anyone, but she’s also a character who doesn’t quite know how to trust that instinct about her. She’s tentative internally as much as she appears steadfast and confident externally. Much of it is probably due to her being a ballerina and needing to exude that confidence on stage and shove down anything that might take away from the part she’s playing while performing. But part of it comes from being a black girl in a mostly-white suburb outside Chicago, as well as being a black girl in a mostly-white artistic/athletic sphere.
Within the story, Theo’s race plays a role in the experiences she has in and out of the classroom in ways that are painful to read but which also give immense insight into what that experience of being a minority might feel like. I can’t ever know personally, but through Theo’s actions and reactions, through the way she talks through these experiences internally, it was easy to understand where some of the external face she puts on comes from. She has to be strong, she has to be brave, and she has to stand up and fight harder than an average person would simply because of the color of her skin. It’s unfair, and that unfairness shines through.
Though it looked and felt like a good thing in the moment, Theo’s relationship with Hosea turns out to be a disaster. She and he are both aware that he’s dating someone, but it doesn’t stop either one of them from reciprocating the physical and emotional (at least her emotional) actions toward one another. Part of their relationship happens because Theo needs someone to be with her, now that the memories she’d tamped down are coming back up again with Donovan’s return. She wants to feel that physical closeness. She wants to be wanted. But when Hosea and Theo are close to having sex in the science classroom and his girlfriend sees what happens, things end. Fortunately for Theo, the only thing Hosea ever got out of her was physical. He wasn’t privy to her experiences with Chris nor how they related to Donovan.
In fact, the only person who ever knew what happened in Theo’s past was a female friend of hers, and it came out almost by accident. That friend revealed something about her own life, and Theo reciprocated by talking about how she’d dated an older guy. And then revealed more and more, until the friend managed to convince Theo what had happened was rape. It was in this moment that Pointe went from being good to being really good — not because Theo was forced to reconsider what happened, but because that reconsideration came through talking it out with another girlfriend. Not with Hosea. Not with a counselor. Not with anyone except a female friend. There is no one who saves Theo in the story except Theo herself. The boy who looked like he would be the hero falters, and it’s she who gets to walk away, knowing that it was a mistake but a mistake from which she can learn.
But it got even better when, seated to testify at the trial, Theo reveals the rape to the courtroom. When she finally owns what happened to her those years ago. When she releases Donovan, too, because her testimony ultimately sends Chris to jail for kidnapping and a slew of other charges.
That reveal wasn’t the only one she made. Theo also admits to her parents she isn’t over her eating disorder. That she’s not “okay.” That she needs help. And with that, she chooses to check herself into the same clinic she attended before but didn’t find helpful. This time, the story feels more promising, especially as she severs ties she really needs to and works to strengthen others. Going away means putting the ballet dreams on hold — but she knows, too, they’ll be there waiting for her when she’s ready and healthy enough to visit them again.
Theo is one of my favorite characters in a long time. She makes a lot of dumb mistakes, and she’s unwilling to trust herself, even when her gut instincts tell her what she’s thinking or feeling are right. She’s not weak, but she’s also not “strong.” She’s imperfect and rough and misguided but ultimately, she wants to do what’s right. It’s just a matter of figuring out how to do that without continuing to hurt herself in the process — which she does anyway, but in recognizing that, she grows. Theo learns about trusting herself, as well as trusting others in the process.
At the end of Pointe, nothing is perfect. Theo will still make dumb mistakes. That she’ll still stumble and fall. She’ll still likely go out and party when it might be smarter not to. But we also know she’s figured out that she has the capability to own her story and work with it, rather than always work against it. To recognize that being a human being means being imperfect, and that the best relationships are the ones that take work. Especially the relationship one has with herself.
Pass Brandy Colbert’s Pointe to readers who love Sara Zarr or Siobhan Vivian. Those readers who love a complex female character and a book that’s tightly written with an authentic and memorable voice will find much to love here. Readers who want a story that features a character passionate about her art — dancers especially — will enjoy Theo’s dedication and Colbert’s ability to write about it with authority. Although there is a lot of plot, ultimately Pointe is a character-driven novel, and one that will resonate with readers who are eager for solid, memorable, smart, damn good contemporary YA fiction. Colbert creates real teen characters in situations that allow them to be teenagers without offering judgment for the choices that they do and do not make, regardless of how smart those choices may or may not be.
Pointe will be available April 10. Review copy received from the publisher. Tomorrow, we’ll have an interview with Colbert, along with a giveaway.