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About the Book
Title: PAOLA SANTIAGO AND THE FOREST OF
NIGHTMARES (Paola Santiago #2)
Author: Tehlor Kay Mejia
Pub. Date: August 3, 2021
Publisher: Rick Riordan Presents
Formats: Hardcover, eBook, Audiobook
Pages: 336
Find it: Goodreads, Amazon, Kindle, Audible,
B&N, iBooks, Kobo, TBD, Bookshop.org
Best-selling author Rick Riordan presents the sequel to
Tehlor Kay Mejia's critically acclaimed own-voices novel about science-obsessed Paola
Santiago.
Six months after Paola Santiago confronted the legendary La
Llorona, life is nothing like she'd expected it to be. She is barely speaking
to her best friends, Dante and Emma, and what's worse, her mom has a totally
annoying boyfriend. Even with her chupacabra puppy, Bruto, around, Pao can't
escape the feeling that she's all alone in the world.
Pao has no one to tell that she's having nightmares again,
this time set in a terrifying forest. Even more troubling? At their center is
her estranged father, an enigma of a man she barely remembers. And when Dante's
abuela falls mysteriously ill, it seems that the dad Pao never knew just might
be the key to healing the eccentric old woman.
Pao's search for her father will send her far from home,
where she will encounter new monsters and ghosts, a devastating betrayal, and
finally, the forest of her nightmares. Will the truths her father has been
hiding save the people Pao loves, or destroy them?
Once again Tehlor Kay Mejia draws on her Mexican heritage to
tell a wild and wondrous story that combines creatures from folklore with
modern-day challenges.
Grab book 1 PAOLA SANTIAGO
AND THE RIVER OF TEARS NOW!
ONE
There’s
Almost Nothing Worse
Than Meat
Medley Pizza
If it hadn’t
been for the dream she’d had about her estranged father the night before, maybe
Pao’s bonding time with her mom’s new boyfriend wouldn’t have been quite so
awful.
But her luck
never worked like that.
Six months
ago, Paola Santiago had walked out of a collapsing magical rift after defeating
the legendary ghost turned god, La Llorona, and freeing the spirit of the
Weeping Woman’s last remaining lost child.
Pao had
tamed a chupacabra.
She had even
earned the respect of the girl who had tortured her in sixth grade.
And yet, she
still didn’t have the power to turn this guy into dust? Ideally right now,
across the sticky table of this pizza place?
Maybe if she
glared at him a little harder . . .
Pizza Pete’s
was full tonight, with chattering families, screaming kids, and illuminated
arcade machines trying to trick dads into digging deeper for quarters. GHOST
HUNTER 3! one of the games flashed in acid-green letters.
No way that’s realistic, Pao thought,
narrowly avoiding a scoff. Like a series of zeroes and ones blinking on a
screen could ever There’s Almost Nothing Worse Than Meat Medley Pizza get close
to the real thing. Binary code was incredibly versatile, of course, but Pao had
learned firsthand that there were some things that math and science couldn’t
fully capture.
Pao’s mom
looked at her like she had heard the almost scoff. Pao stared back insolently,
tempting fate.
Ever since
winter break had started three days ago, Pao had been prohibited from scoffing.
Also scowling, smirking, stomping, and swearing (even using mild words like stupid
or jerk). The message was clear: There was no room for sullen Pao
when Aaron was around.
To be fair,
though, it didn’t seem like there was much room for any version of Pao.
So why couldn’t she mope to her heart’s (dis)content?
Because moms
were unfair, that’s why.
In the
arcade, three boys a little older than Pao were hurtling full speed toward Ghost
Hunter 3. “I hear it’s, like, actually scary!” one of them squeaked.
“Yeah, Sully
said the guys that made it went to real haunted houses and, like, slept
in them and saw things.”
“So cool!
They’re like actual experts!”
I’m so
sure, Pao thought,
returning to her scathing inner monologue. Like a bunch of white guys with
phone cameras in a tourist trap knew anything about real ghost hunting.
But the
truth—and Pao’s terrible secret—was that she would have given anything to be
fighting real ghosts or monsters right now. She would have been thrilled to see
a terrible hairy Mano Pachona, or a full-grown slavering chupacabra. Anything
to prove that last summer had been real. That she had actually been through
something.
That she
wasn’t just a freak who no longer belonged in her own life.
Across the
table, Aaron shifted uncomfortably in his seat, grinning goofily when he caught
Pao looking at him. No one had spoken a word in nine minutes and forty-three
seconds. So much for bonding.
Her mom was
looking desperate now, and for a second, Pao almost felt sorry for her.
But only for
a second.
After Pao’s
disappearing act last summer, things had improved between her and her mom. For
a while. But Pao had quickly realized that accepting her mom’s differences, as
she had done while trapped in the endless throat of a magical void, was
actually a lot easier than getting along with her in real life.
Especially
now that her mom was dating Aaron.
Pao tried to
ignore him, thinking of her dream the night before instead. Even a nightmare
was better than this guy. She’d been walking through a dense pine forest, a
weird green light filtering through the trees. The road she’d walked was long
and straight, and at the end of it was a silhouette she’d somehow known was her
dad.
It made
sense, Pao thought, that she hadn’t seen his face. She hadn’t seen her dad in
real life since she was four years old. Her mom never even talked about him.
But in the dream, Pao had run toward him anyway, like he was coming home from a
long absence and she couldn’t wait to throw her arms around him.
Of course,
she hadn’t made it that far. Just before she’d gotten close enough, the ground
had opened at her feet. A massive crack in the earth took Pao with it as it
gave way, leaving her father shouting from the cliff above.
After waking
from a nightmare like that, shaking and sweating, was it any wonder Pao didn’t
wanted to spend the evening fake-smiling over greasy food with a total
imposter?
Across from
her, Mom and Aaron chewed in silence, exchanging an awkward look between them.
Pao could
have made it easier for her mom, she knew, but right now that was the last
thing she wanted to do.
Why would
she want to help someone who hadn’t even noticed that her daughter was
suffering the aftereffects of one of her notorious nightmares? The kind she had
experienced ever since she was little and had led her to enter a magical rift
to fight a legendary ghost.
Her mom was
supposed to be highly attuned to this stuff. She always had been before
. . . But tonight she’d just told Pao to get a handle on her hair and wear a
clean shirt. Like it mattered how Pao looked for this totally inappropriate
ordeal.
Mom had met
Aaron, a firefighter, at the bar where she worked and within six weeks had
decided that he was meet-the kid material. But impulsive choices were kind of the
norm for Maria Santiago. Even Bruto the chupacabra puppy had given them an isn’t
this too soon? look as they’d left the apartment tonight.
For about a
month, Mom and Aaron had lied about him coming over to “fix the TV” or “drop
off a book” or “look for a stray neighborhood dog” (Pao’s personal favorite
excuse). Last week her mom had finally come clean, and now they all had to play
nice.
At first,
Pao had been offended by the lying—she was almost thirteen, she could handle
the truth!—but an hour into forced bonding, she found herself wishing Aaron
really was just the guy “redoing the shower grout.”
The boys in
the arcade were fully enthralled by Ghost Hunter 3 at this point. The
screen showed one of those cheesy paranormal activity videos, all shaky
camera and blown-out colors and vague, pixelated shapes.
Pao
remembered a time when it would have been her and her two best friends, Emma
and Dante, crowded around the machine. Dante would have been effortlessly good,
Emma hilariously bad, and Pao in the back, refusing to play, mocking people for
believing in ghosts.
But she’d
barely spoken to Emma in two months. And Pao and Dante were pretending things
were normal between them . . . but then why had she told her mom that he was
too busy to tag along tonight when he really wasn’t?
Not even
science held her in the same thrall these days. Her microscope lay unused on
the dusty top shelf of her closet. And she hadn’t bothered entering the fall
science fair at school.
Everything
had changed. And Pao didn’t know how to change it back.
“Ooh, that
game looks scary!” Aaron said, snapping Pao out of her moody thoughts. “I’m not
sure I could play it. Probably give me nightmares.”
This time,
Pao really, really couldn’t help it. The scoff took over. It used her body as
an unwilling host, like rabies in the brain of a raccoon, and a pfft sound
escaped her lips. All Pao could do was hope no one heard it. But of course, her
mom had laser-focused on her the moment Aaron had said nightmares.
And in terms
of death glares, La Llorona had nothing on Pao’s mom.
She smiled
at Pao, a kind of snarly smile, all her teeth showing. A don’t screw this up
or I’ll take away that phone you just got kind of smile. “Paola, why don’t
you tell Aaron what you’re working on in school?”
“Invisibility,”
Pao said after a beat, pulling a pepperoni off her pizza and rolling it up into
a greasy little tube. Her mom hated when she did that but wouldn’t dare say
anything in front of “company.”
“Sounds
pretty advanced for seventh grade!” Aaron said earnestly. His blond hair fell
into his eyes, and he pushed it back. His face was that healthy-looking kind of
tan that white people get when they go skiing or something. Pao wanted to wipe
pepperoni grease on it.
“It’s more
of a social experiment than a scientific one,” Pao clarified, watching her
mother’s eyes narrow even more. “You know, camouflage, deflection, that sort of
thing. Luckily, I’m getting plenty of practice at home.”
Pao had
always distrusted people who smiled all the time, and Aaron’s ski-catalog grin
never faltered. She matched it with something akin to a grimace, knowing she’d
pay for the comment later but not caring.
“Well,
middle school is a tough time,” he said, leaning down to look her in the eye.
“I’m sure things will get better. Hey, only a year and a half until high
school, right!”
“Yeah,” Pao
said. “Because high school is historically easy on freaks.”
“Mija,
you’re not a freak,” her mom said, waving a hand. “You’re just advanced for
your age—the other kids are probably jealous.”
Pao would
definitely had rolled her eyes if her mom hadn’t snapped her head to look
across the room right at that moment.
“Oh! Isn’t
that Emma?” She waved, not noticing that her only child was ready to sink into
the floor. “Emma! ¡Mija! Over here!”
It was
noisy, and Emma was sitting at a crowded table with at least five kids from
school. Pao kept her eyes on her plate and hoped that Emma didn’t hear her name
being called.
“Who are
those kids she’s hanging out with?” Mom asked, craning her neck. “They sure
have . . . interesting hair!”
Emma’s new
friends dyed their hair in bright colors and wore jean jackets with patches and
pins all over them. They kept up with current events and sometimes participated
in protests. Across Pizza Pete’s, they all laughed loudly at something, and Pao
glanced up reflexively, just for a second. Emma didn’t look their way.
“The Rainbow
Rogues,” Pao muttered, trying not to sound sarcastic.
It didn’t
matter anyway. Her mom was back to talking to Aaron, and Pao was back to being
invisible.
Her eyes
drifted over to where Emma’s blondish-brown hair (complete with a new purple
streak) was just visible over the tall back of her seat.
In
September, when Emma had decided to come out to her parents, Pao had been with
her—via speaker phone—for moral support. Emma had been nervous, but after all
the worry and wondering, her parents had been nothing but supportive. Mrs. Lockwood
had even bought a LOVE IS LOVE sticker for their SUV.
Emma had
confessed her secret to Pao just a week after they’d returned from the rift,
and together they’d plotted the best way to tell her parents. After Emma did
it, Pao was so proud of her best friend she’d thought her heart might burst.
The next day, they’d eaten every flavor of frozen yogurt in one giant cup to celebrate.
Pao had
known this meant Emma could finally stop hiding. At last she’d get to be her
whole, shiny self for the world to see. Pao had even convinced her to go the
first yearly meeting of the aforementioned Rainbow Rogues, Silver Springs
Middle School’s LGBTQIA+ club.
They’d both
been surprised by how many openly queer kids went to their school, and Emma had
walked out bubbling with excitement and plans to go back.
But the more
time they’d spent with the Rogues, the more out of place Pao had felt.
There were
plenty of kids in the club who weren’t ready to decide how they identified yet,
and even kids who just called themselves “allies,” so it wasn’t her lack of
specified queerness that made Pao feel left out.
It just
seemed like most of the kids who were comfortable enough to be out at school
were, for the lack of a better phrase, rich and white. Their parents drove them
to and from the meetings in their fancy cars and sent them to school with
organic lunches. They bought their kids unlimited poster board and, like, the nice
markers in every color whenever they wanted to make protest signs.
Pao, with
her bus pass and her subsidized lunch, couldn’t have the Rogues over to her
small apartment or chip in for supplies. They never made her feel bad about those
things, of course, but the way they were overly nice about them somehow
made Pao feel even worse.
And then
there was Emma, who was so focused on making sure Pao had a good time
that sometimes Pao felt she was holding her back. There was no reason for Emma
to be the odd one out. She fit in perfectly, and Pao wanted that for her.
So the next
time Emma asked Pao to join in—they were protesting a new Starbucks going in
across from a locally owned coffee shop—Pao had made up an excuse. After she
did it enough times, Emma had stopped asking.
Pao knew it
was normal, people growing apart. But that didn’t make it any less sad.
She pushed
her plate away, her appetite suddenly gone. “I have homework. Can we go home
now?”
Aaron had
just taken another slice of “meat medley.” The worst pizza variety ever.
Sausage, ham, and pepperoni? What was it trying to prove?
Her mom
opened her mouth, undoubtedly to chastise Pao for being rude, but before she
could form the words, Pao’s drinking glass exploded in front of her, soaking
her space-cat shirt in all thirteen types of soda she’d combined from the
fountain. It left them a whole different kind of speechless than before, which
Pao couldn’t help but enjoy just a little.
There were
glass shards on her lap and all over Aaron’s slice of meat medley. Next to the
glass, a quarter was spinning like a top. It must have come from one of the
kids playing in the arcade.
After taking
a second to recover from her shock (and to make sure Emma and her cool friends
hadn’t seen), Pao glanced at her mother, who looked murderous.
“Come on!”
Pao said. “You can’t possibly think this is my fault! It was a freak accident!
Look!” She held up the quarter, which had just stopped spinning and fallen onto
its side.
Tails, Pao noticed, then shook herself
before she went down a probability and statistics hole.
Her mom,
thankfully, had turned her withering glare onto the kids shrieking in front of Ghost
Hunter 3. “Honestly, where are their parents?” she asked, looking at Aaron
to check his reaction. When he nodded, she continued. “Throwing quarters
around, breaking glasses? So irresponsible.”
Pao bit her
tongue. Her mom had left her unsupervised (or in the care of their elderly
neighbor, Señora Mata) for the greater part of her childhood. Now that Aaron
was around, she was suddenly Suburban Susie of the PTA?
Not that she
was judging her mom for how she’d raised Pao. It was hard to juggle a kid and a
more-than-full-time job on your own. But why did her mom have to pretend to be
someone else just to impress this guy?
Wasn’t that,
like, the opposite of what she always told Pao to do?
As the two
adults chattered about bad parenting, Pao tried to soak up the soda on her
shirt with two paper napkins, only to end up leaving little bits of wet pulp
all over it. She was almost too lost in thought to notice.
“I’m going
to the bathroom,” Pao said, standing up abruptly.
No one
stopped her.
At least
this nightmare is nearly over, she thought.
She should
have known better by now than to think things like that.
About Tehlor Kay Mejia:
Tehlor
Kay Mejia is an
Oregon native in love with the alpine meadows and evergreen forests of her home
state, where she lives with her daughter. When she's not writing, you can find
her plucking at her guitar, stealing rosemary sprigs from overgrown gardens, or
trying to make the perfect vegan tamale. She is the author of Paola Santiago
and the River of Tears and the YA fantasy novels We Set the Dark on Fire
and We Unleash the Merciless Storm. Follow her on Twitter
@tehlorkay.
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Giveaway Details:
3 winners
will receive a finished copy of PAOLA SANTIAGO AND THE FOREST OF NIGHTMARES, US Only.
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