Introduction
Some books feel like the talk you promised yourself years ago but kept postponing. The College Try is that conversation made tender and vivid. It lives in the soft space between memory and possibility, where a tiny what if can ripple into a different life. The premise is simple and irresistible: if you could revisit the moment that bent your love story off course, would you choose differently now that you truly know yourself. This original graphic novel from Mad Cave Studios, under the Maverick imprint, turns that question into a queer, time bent romantic comedy that respects both heart and hindsight.
The creative team knows how to build character first and spectacle second. Writer Olivia Cuartero Briggs brings a warm, clear voice to young adult audiences without talking down to them. Artist Roberta Ingranata draws people the way old friends feel in your memory: distinct, expressive, never generic. Colorist Warnia Sahadewa sets the emotional temperature of each scene so that chapters breathe. Letterer Jodie Troutman finds the rhythm in the beats between two people who are almost brave enough to say what they mean. Together they deliver a love story about timing, identity, and the everyday courage it takes to choose yourself.
What This Book Is Really About
The College Try is a time slip romance about second chances, but it is not wish fulfillment dressed up as a rewind button. The book argues for growth. It treats the past as a classroom rather than a fantasy vacation. The magic opens a door, yet the characters still need to step through with new honesty. That choice matters. In this story, maturity is not a sudden glow up. It is a series of small, specific decisions that add up to a new path.
The love at the center reads as queer and specific rather than general and vague. The story respects labels and also respects the fact that not every teenager had the words they needed in the early 2000s. The book becomes a bridge. It lets readers who lived through that era see what they could not articulate at the time. It also gives younger readers a clear map for language and boundaries now.
A Spoiler Light Premise
The setup moves quickly. A present day protagonist carries a quiet ache: the one who got away. The ache is not only about romance. It is also about the version of self that never had room to breathe. A strange, gently playful piece of magic offers a return ticket to the years when dorm hallways smelled like instant noodles and printer toner, when playlists were burned to discs and everyone pretended they did not care about away messages. That return is not a do over of everything.
It spotlights a handful of decisive moments: a party, a conversation on a lawn, a text never sent, a scholarship deadline, a friend who deserved the truth. The tension does not come from a villain. It comes from fear, habit, and the rules a campus can write in your head. The question is steady and human: can the same people make a different choice when they are finally ready to meet themselves.
Why The Early 2000s Setting Matters
Setting is not decoration here. The early 2000s campus culture is a character with its own voice. You can feel it in the tech on desks, the fashions that looked effortless but required work, the way friend groups formed around shared media and the way dorm architecture shuffled privacy and exposure. The era matters for queer storytelling too. Many students in that time had support in pockets rather than systems. People were out to some friends and cautious elsewhere.
This book remembers that emotional weather. It shows how a missed signal in a less open room can echo for years. The nostalgia is selective and smart. The story uses it to frame stakes rather than to sell winks and nods. If you lived those years, you will recognize textures. If you did not, the art gives you a tour without turning the pages into a museum.
Craft That Serves Character
Writing: Dialogue With Room To Breathe
Olivia Cuartero Briggs writes dialogue that listens. Characters do not deliver monologues disguised as conversations. They interrupt, hesitate, and circle back. This captures how young adults talk when they are close to saying the real thing but still protecting themselves. The structure favors short scenes that land like memories. Each one leaves a trace that changes the next choice.
Art: Bodies That Communicate Before Words
Roberta Ingranata understands that romance lives in posture, not only in kisses. Shoulders lift when someone is about to lie. Knees point toward a person even when eyes look away. A cafeteria table becomes a map of alliances and nerves. Panel compositions keep faces large enough for nuance, then pull back for context so that readers never lose the social geometry of a scene. Backgrounds do just enough work to root you on a campus without stealing focus from the people.
Color: Mood As A Compass
Warnia Sahadewa treats color as emotional weather. Warm palettes open when characters risk vulnerability. Cooler ranges appear when the past exerts pressure. Transitional scenes lean on twilight tones that make time feel flexible. Page turns often coincide with a shift in palette, which teaches you how to read the emotional direction of a chapter without any exposition.
Lettering: Voice, Rhythm, And Consent
Jodie Troutman uses lettering to separate the voice inside a character’s head from the voice they offer the world. Thought treatments are readable and calm, never gimmicky, which suits the book’s emphasis on clarity. Balloons leave room for silence. The gutters speak. Small typographic changes signal when a boundary is crossed or respected. That attention to consent and pause makes the romance feel responsible and real.
Themes That Earn Their Weight
Identity: The Long Work Of Becoming
The time slip is not a costume change. It is an invitation to notice how much work it takes to grow. The book treats identity as iterative. You see failure, repair, and grace. You also see how chosen family grants courage that blood family sometimes cannot. The message does not scold. It encourages readers to be honest with their present rather than enslaved to their past.
Timing: A Door That Opens Twice
The story takes seriously the idea that right person and wrong time can both be true. The magic does not erase consequences. It allows for a second pass at courage. Characters still earn their ending through effort: apologies, boundaries, and the bravery to claim joy without permission.
Friendship: The Infrastructure Of Romance
Romance in college never happens inside a bubble. Roommates, lab partners, and club friends form the scaffolding that holds a relationship up or shakes it loose. The book spends time on those bonds. It shows how friends can misread each other and still learn. It honors the friend who asks the hard question and waits for the answer.
Representation And Responsibility
The College Try centers queer characters with care. It gives them agency, humor, and interiority. It refuses tragic inevitability. At the same time, it acknowledges the frictions of a campus culture in transition. The story models healthy communication: checking in, naming needs, accepting no. For younger readers, this is practical guidance wrapped in charm. For older readers, it is recognition: the reminder that language can catch up to feelings and make life larger.
Standout Scenes Without Spoilers
There is a quiet page on a stairwell that makes the case for learning to speak plainly. There is a late night walk that turns a campus map into a memory palace. There is a simple exchange of notebooks that says more about trust than any speech could. The best moments arrive without fireworks. The book scales the volume down so that a small decision can carry the weight of a miracle.
Who This Book Is For
Readers who love romance that treats people like adults in training will feel at home. If you enjoy campus stories that value atmosphere and conversation over shock, this belongs on your shelf. If you want queer leads who are tender with themselves and still messy in believable ways, you will find them here. Educators and librarians looking for inclusive young adult titles that invite discussion about consent, regret, and growth will see clear classroom uses.
Reading Tips For Maximum Enjoyment
- Read the opening chapters slowly. The book lays down visual cues early that pay off later.
- Notice background characters. Several side friends function as mirrors and foils.
- Pay attention to color shifts at page turns. They track emotional weather better than any recap.
- After finishing, revisit a few early scenes. The subtext changes once you know what the characters finally say out loud.
Content Guidance
The College Try includes romantic tension, kissing, and candid conversations about identity and boundaries. There is no graphic content. Emotional stakes can run high, especially around missed chances and social pressure. The tone remains supportive and restorative. Readers who prefer gentle resolution over harsh consequence will appreciate the balance.
What Makes It Stand Out In A Crowded Shelf
Young adult romance often rushes the confession. This book earns it. The pacing trusts readers to enjoy the space between two people. The craft choices match the theme: panels breathe, colors warm and cool like honest weather, lettering leaves room for silence. The early 2000s setting is not an aesthetic trick. It is a living context that explains how small moments become hinge points in a life. Above all, the story believes in growth. It tells readers that you can honor who you were and still choose who you are becoming.
Conclusion
The College Try is not a fantasy about undoing the past. It is a compassionate guide to doing better now. By blending a light touch of magic with specific, lived in campus life, the book shows how love matures when people do. Olivia Cuartero Briggs, Roberta Ingranata, Warnia Sahadewa, and Jodie Troutman work in concert to deliver a romance that feels earned, inclusive, and attentive to the details that make memory matter. If you have ever wanted one more chance to say the right thing to the right person, this graphic novel will meet you with patience and hope. It reminds you that second chances are less about time travel and more about the courage to speak plainly and choose joy.
