“What a bunch of dorks.”

It’s what Anna Mariano’s awkwardly loveable main character says about her similarly awkwardly loveable low brass bandmates in her newest book, It Sounds Like This. They quickly become main character Yasmín Treviño’s fast friends in the particular kind of high school way that is at once almost shockingly fast and not fast at all.

Yasmín Treviño is a high school sophomore ready to kick what should be her second year of marching band off with a bang. The past year’s marching band cancellation due to a hurricane has her eager to prove her mettle (brass joke). But her plans of beating her longtime BFF and fellow flautist Sofia out of first chair are thwarted when she’s given the cold shoulder by her fellow flutes (and most of the rest of the band) for trying to report freshman hazing.

Yasmín think’s she’s found a way to redeem herself by fighting her own metaphorical “dragon”, a tuba the band now desperately needs in order to stand a chance of doing well at football games and at the end of semester University Interscholastic League (UIL). But an at times just a tad too snarky, and other times downright hostile social media account seems to stall all her progress. And her tendencies to people please get to be even heavier for her to carry than a 30 pound instrument.

I loved this book so much. Late in the book, Yasmín tells her low brass buds (or low brassholes, as they affectionately call themselves) “I love y’all” and I have to say, I loved Yasmín’s bunch of dorks too.

Caleb, Elias, Bloom, Johnathan, Lee, Milo, and Neeraj make up Yasmín’s new underdog band section, and while they do at first glance seem like a ragtag background of loveable dorks with what Yasmín calls “himbo energy”, each of them is a fully realized secondary character who Yasmín isn’t afraid to admit she learns from and appreciates.

This book is deeply felt and written with the charm and whimsy I adore from Anna Mariano’s writing. None of the characters or their actions feel forced or convoluted, everything is completely understandable with high schoolers just struggling to figure out the kinds of humans they want to be, and how it means they’ll act and treat each other.

The book doesn’t shy away from asking questions of figuring out one’s own sexuality, where it fits within the confines of certain sects of differing faiths, and how to learn to come into your own, and figure out what you believe both within and without the confines of faith, tradition, upbringing, and the at times crushing anxiety of the high school eye. As someone who grew up Catholic, still has a lot of people pleasing tendencies, and struggled with a lot of these same questions Yasmín and her friends struggle with, this read was, as the kids say, #RelatableContent.

I at once wanted to hug Yasmín, her sweet and silly brassholes, and my younger self and tell them all it’ll be okay. To tell them all that disappointing people, that letting people down, that dealing with people being upset with you or worse is hard and uncomfortable, but that usually, it will not actually kill you. And tell them that yes, boundaries are good, and sometimes even freeing.

It Sounds Like This is a great book for any past, present, or future band nerd (or band nerd at heart), any current or recovering people pleaser, or anyone who loves underdog stories full of humor, heart, and found family friendship dynamics.