{"product_id":"no-place-on-earth-isbn-9798217119448","title":"No Place on Earth","description":"\u003cb\u003eFrom the Newbery Honor-winning author of \u003ci\u003eIveliz Explains It All\u003c\/i\u003e, comes a moving novel with a touch of magic, where two boys find themselves in each other's dreams and slowly help one another face the real world.\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSince moving to Yellowstone National Park for his mom's job, Gustavo Santos Costa has had a lot on his mind.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cul\u003e\n\u003cli\u003eFor instance: bison stampedes. Did you know that bison can run three times faster than the average person?\u003c\/li\u003e\n\u003cli\u003eAlso: Why do people always stand \u003ci\u003eso\u003c\/i\u003e close to boiling hot springs?!\u003c\/li\u003e\n\u003cli\u003eFinally: the bad dreams. Why have they only gotten worse since the move?\u003c\/li\u003e\n\u003c\/ul\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd that’s all before Gus somehow meets his classmate Kordell \u003ci\u003einside\u003c\/i\u003e his dreams. While Gus avoids sleeping (and nightmares) at all costs, Kordell finds that dreams seem to be a welcome escape from his real life . . . until one day, they're no longer enough. With the connection between the boys, Gus may be the only person who can help Kordell. But when most things already feel too big to take on, how can Gus find the courage to be there for his friends?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn this powerful novel from the Newbery Honor-winning author of \u003ci\u003eIveliz Explains It All,\u003c\/i\u003e two boys confront their fears—and their dreams—to save themselves and each other.Andrea Beatriz Arango is the author of Newbery Honor Book \u003ci\u003eIveliz Explains It All, \u003c\/i\u003ethe Pura Belpré Honor Book \u003ci\u003eSomething Like Home, \u003c\/i\u003eand \u003ci\u003eIt's All or Nothing, Vale.\u003c\/i\u003e She was born and raised in Puerto Rico, where she first became a teacher. She then spent a decade in the United States working in public schools and nonprofits. When she’s not busy writing about middle schoolers and their families, you can find her hoping to spot manatees at the beach. Andrea lives in Puerto Rico with her family.Gustavo\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIt’s an impossible choice.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn front of me is a growling wolf. Behind me? A huffing grizzly. Both clearly want to rip me to shreds and eat me for dinner. The question is, should I pick the—­\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIcy cold water gushes over me so fast I think I’m drowning. I sputter in my seat, eyes darting around wildly, until I realize that I’m in Ms. Román’s classroom. That there is no bear. There is no wolf. Diego and Javi laugh and fist-­bump each other.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Te dije que the water would work,” Diego snorts.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Funny. Very funny,” I mutter, standing up and grabbing my backpack. The wall clock says 2:35, which means I slept through the dismissal bell. Why would Ms. Román just leave me alone in here? On my last day, too.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI walk out of science class as Diego and Javi fall into place on either side of me. Javi nudges my shoulder.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“No te molestes. We just wanted one last prank. Ms. Román said we could.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI roll my eyes and shove them both, but I don’t mean it. Not when they did me a favor. Dying was not on my to-­do list for today.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWe hurry down the maze of open-­air corridors, and by the time we make our way to the school parking lot, all three of us are sweating. I’ve lived in Puerto Rico my whole life, but I don’t think I’ll ever get used to how humid it is here. How heavy the heat feels. Today the breeze reminds me of the stinky wet air at Titi Ingrid’s house. How her dog pack pants loudly in my face whenever we visit. She insists they’re just being friendly, but I know wild animals when I see them. And right now it feels like the whole island has been swallowed into a feral dog’s sticky hot throat and then burped out.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI shudder. Nasty.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDiego, Javi, and I shuffle over to the curb where most of the sixth graders are waiting. The fourth-­to-­sixth pickup line is already backed up, the long line of cars winding around the red flamboyán tree in the center of the redondel. I squint into the afternoon sun, but Ma’s Toyota is nowhere to be seen, even though she promised she’d come grab me right after school.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThen again, she promised she’d consider letting me stay in Puerto Rico with Pa, and that isn’t happening either.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDiego wipes the sweat off his forehead. His hair is the longest out of the three of us, and right now it’s sticking to his neck in damp clumps. “Qué calor, puñe—­” he starts to complain, then stops his cussing mid-­sentence as Ms. Figueroa gives us a look.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Sorry, missi,” he apologizes.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eJavi readjusts his glasses and fans himself with his Fortnite T-­shirt. “At least you’ll be out of this heat soon, Gustavo.” He shows me the weather app on his phone. “Está en fifty degrees en Yellowstone.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI make myself smile at him, because I know Javi is just trying to be nice, but come on. Yeah, I hate the heat, who doesn’t? But my move to the United States tomorrow is the last thing I want to think about right now.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBesides, doesn’t Javi know that colder climates are actually way worse? I’m pretty sure people die from cold exposure all the time.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI pull out my phone and tap: What kills more people, heat or cold?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHa! I knew it! El frío is the silent killer. Four times more deaths!\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI put my phone back in my pocket and keep watch for Ma’s car as I listen to Diego and Javi plan our first long-­distance video-­game session. My heart isn’t in it, though, and I kind of zone out.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI hate goodbyes. I hate new things. And moving to the middle of a giant forest two months into sixth grade is pretty much one of the worst things I can imagine happening to me.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd trust me, I can imagine a lot.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Hellooooo, ¡Gustavo Emanuel!”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI blink and knock Diego’s waving hand out of my face. “Deja eso.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDiego is frowning. “¿Estás bien?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI shrug. “Yeah,” I lie. “I’m fine. We’ll game on Monday. Igual que siempre.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Don’t worry, Gus. Nothing’s gonna change,” Javi says reassuringly, even though I just told them I was fine. “We already chat online more than in person anyway.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Exacto,” Diego agrees. “The Legendary Looters Whats­App group will continue on as normal. You’ll just be farther away. Besides, no es pa’ siempre. You’ll be back.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI smile uneasily, my stomach cramping a bit. My friends always do this. Assume I’m worried even when I say I’m not. I push the discomfort down. It’s not like they know I’m lying.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI’m about to change the subject when I finally see Ma pull up a block away. My phone pings a second later, probably with a text telling me to walk over.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI half hug Diego and Javi goodbye, promising to log on to Fortnite in a few days, and then shoot my school one final look. I’ve been coming here since kindergarten. It’s hard to believe this is really it. No more arroz con salchicha plates at lunch. Or hide-­and-­seek games before homeroom. I’ll miss this place.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIt’s not forever, Gustavo, I remind myself.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMy phone pings again, and then Ma honks at me like I’m the one who’s late. Qué pantalones.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI grip my backpack straps tightly and walk out the school gates.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBy the time we finish braving the school-­dismissal traffic and get home, the house is full of people. Cousins. Aunts and uncles. My grandparents on both sides.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDid everyone leave work early or something?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI’m halfway through the room, kissing cheeks as I go, by the time Pa shows up with a stack of Faccio pizzas. Pizzas! Like this is a freakin’ birthday party.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe still has the keys to our house, but he doesn’t live here anymore. Not since he and Ma decided to take a break. A trial separation, they called it. Me pone mal just thinking about it. O sea, how is Ma getting a job three thousand miles away supposed to help them fix their relationship?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI may be eleven, but even I know that moving to a forest while “on a break” is a terrible idea. Lorena keeps insisting it’s not, but what does she know? She’s sixteen and has had exactly zero relationships.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIt’s different for her anyway. She gets to move to Yellowstone guilt-­free. ¿Pero yo? I was there the night of their big fight. I know it was about me. It’s kind of hard to unhear something like that.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI eat my pizza in silence, watching everyone laughing and eating like this is just a regular family reunion. How can they all be so relaxed about saying goodbye?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“¡Gustavito!” my uncle Reymundo calls out from across the living room. “You ready for that Wyoming wilderness? Ready to have some big brave adventures?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePa laughs. “Gustavo and his chapines? Not a chance.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI force out another fake smile as my aunts and uncles laugh, like they usually do. But like I usually do, I stay quiet.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOnce, at the beach, I had what I think was a panic attack after we had all eaten some pastelillos de chapín. The fried trunkfish pastries were still making their way into my stomach when I thought I saw a shark by the shore. It ended up being some guy with a toy fin, but the damage was done. My stomach was a mess.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePa said, “Eso no es ná, Gustavo, solo los chapines dando vuelta en tu panza.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd that was that. No more “nervous stomachaches” for me. Only Caribbean trunkfish swimming around my insides.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIf I’m honest, I kinda like the mental image. Because it really does feel like fish are constantly swimming around in my guts, especially when scary scenarios play out in my head. So, yeah, I also blame that whirlpool feeling in my stomach on the chapines. That’s not the problem.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIt’s the way Pa talks about the chapines that I don’t like. No sé. It’s hard to explain. The way he jokes about it isn’t that funny. At least I don’t think it is. But every time I say something, ask him or my uncles to stop messing around, it just makes everything worse. They say I’m too sensitive. That I need to learn to take a joke.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI bite into my pizza quietly, letting the laughter and conversation buzz around me. Zoning out is kind of what I’m known for, but this is our final night as a family. And as much as my tías and tíos annoy me sometimes, they’ve been around my entire life.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHow are we gonna have monthly family reunions with just me, Ma, and Lorena? That’s not even enough people to fill up one table.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Ya vas a ver,” my tío Reymundo says. “The forest will be good for you, Gustavo.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOh great. So the conversation is still about me. Fantástico.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePa turns to me. “Your uncle’s right. Less PlayStation and more hiking, mijo. That’s what you need. Get you strong and brave like your papi.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI give Pa a sarcastic thumbs-­up but he just laughs. Do they actually think I’m going to move to Yellowstone and just turn into a completely different Gustavo? I’m changing my home address, not my whole personality.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHere’s the thing. Lorena chose to go with Ma when she got her new job. Said living inside a national park would give her an edge when applying to the best college biology programs in the US. But me? I begged to stay in Puerto Rico. I told Pa all sorts of things, even offering to mop and clean the bathroom and do the dishes—­all those household chores neither of us would ever normally do.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn the end, though, my uncles and my dad’s army buddies convinced Pa that Yellowstone would be just the thing to help me with my nightmares and stomachaches. Just the thing to “toughen” me up.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSo here I am. Comiendo pizza fría and about to make the biggest move of my life.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd for someone who is always working through worst-­case scenarios?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI really did not see this coming at all.","brand":"Random House Books for Young Readers","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":48233437855973,"sku":"NP9798217119448","price":20.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9798217119448.jpg?v=1767733822","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/no-place-on-earth-isbn-9798217119448","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}