The story of one boy and his journey to find himself.
When it happened, Miguel was sent to Juvi. The judge gave him a year in a group home—said he had to write in a journal so some counselor could try to figure out how he thinks. The judge had no idea that he actually did Miguel a favor. Ever since it happened, his mom can’t even look at him in the face. Any home besides his would be a better place to live.
But Miguel didn’t bet on meeting Rondell or Mong or on any of what happened after they broke out. He only thought about Mexico and getting to the border to where he could start over. Forget his mom. Forget his brother. Forget himself.
Life usually doesn’t work out how you think it will, though. And most of the time, running away is the quickest path right back to what you’re running from.
When Miguel, a high school student from Stockton, Calif.—“where every other person you meet has missing teeth or is leaning against a liquor store wall begging for change to buy beer”—commits an undisclosed crime, he is sentenced to a year in juvenile hall. Despite the efforts of his counselor (who constantly calls him “bro”), a despondent Miguel suffers alone at the group home, reading and scribbling in his journal; his entries provide the novel's narrative. When Mong, a violent fellow resident, plans an escape to Mexico, Miguel and his roommate, Rondell, join him on a tumultuous journey through Southern California and slowly become friends, as Miguel struggles to come to terms with the events that have brought him to this point (“Nah, man, there ain't no such thing as peace no more. That shit's dead and buried”). Miguel's raw yet reflective journal entries give Peña's (Mexican WhiteBoy) coming-of-age story an immersive authenticity and forceful voice. The suspense surrounding the boys' survival and the mystery of Miguel's crime result in a furiously paced and gripping novel. Ages 14–up. (Oct.)