“Medina finishes the heartwarming story arc of her . . . young protagonist with the same well-crafted dialogue, humor, and cultural exploration readers expect. A fabulous finale.” — Kirkus Reviews (starred review) For Merci Suárez, eighth grade means a new haircut, nighttime football games, and an out-of-town overnight field trip. At home, it means more chores and keeping an eye on Lolo as his health worsens. It’s a year filled with more responsibility and independence, but also with opportunities to reinvent herself. Merci has always been fine with not being one of the popular kids like Avery Sanders, who will probably be the soccer captain and is always traveling to fun places and buying new clothes. But then Avery starts talking to Merci more, and not just as a teammate. Does this mean they’re friends? Merci wants to play it cool, but with Edna always in her business, it’s only a matter of time before Merci has to decide where her loyalty stands. Whether Merci is facing school drama or changing family dynamics, readers will empathize as she discovers who she can count on—and what can change in an instant—in Meg Medina’s heartfelt conclusion to the trilogy that began with the Newbery Medal–winning novel. Although it’s accessible to new readers, the story’s conclusion will particularly resonate with existing fans of Merci and her Cuban American family. Medina finishes the heartwarming story arc of her plucky, curious, strong-willed young protagonist with the same well-crafted dialogue, humor, and cultural exploration readers expect. A fabulous finale to a memorable trilogy. —Kirkus Reviews (starred review) The strength of this story lies in the authenticity of Merci’s character and her refreshingly sincere responses to the world around her, even and especially when self-conscious or misguided. Her home among her Cuban American family may not always be the refuge she wants, but it is full of love, support, Cuban traditions, and, occasionally, something delicious made by or with Abuela. . . the book closes on a note of promise as Merci leads her team out onto the field for their first game. —The Horn Book (starred review) This final entry in the Merci Suárez trilogy once again shows readers the strength and beauty of family. Readers will love the inside look at clever Merci's thoughts and feelings and may find similarities in their own experiences at school and home. Highly recommended for all middle-grade collections. —Booklist (starred review) Meg Medina is a former National Ambassador for Young People’s Literature and the author of the Newbery Medal winner and Kirkus Prize finalist Merci Suárez Changes Gears , as well as its sequels, Merci Suárez Can’t Dance and Merci Suárez Plays It Cool . She is the author of the young adult novels Burn Baby Burn , which was long-listed for the National Book Award, short-listed for the Kirkus Prize, and a finalist for the Los Angeles Times Book Prize; Yaqui Delgado Wants to Kick Your Ass , winner of a Pura Belpré Author Award; and The Girl Who Could Silence the Wind , a Bank Street College Best Children’s Book of the Year. Her picture books include No More Señora Mimí , illustrated by Brittney Cicchese; Evelyn Del Rey Is Moving Away , illustrated by Sonia Sánchez; Mango, Abuela, and Me , illustrated by Angela Dominguez, which was both a Pura Belpré Author and Illustrator Award Honor Book; and Tía Isa Wants a Car , illustrated by Claudio Muñoz, which won the Ezra Jack Keats Writer Award. The daughter of Cuban immigrants, Meg Medina lives in Richmond, Virginia. Chapter 1 “Shut that screen door, ­Merci! You’re letting in mosquitoes!”    Mami’s sharp voice makes me jump as ­Tuerto dashes between my legs. He doesn’t even stop for a chin scratch in his race to escape the heat.    It’s early, but Mami’s already in her scrubs for work, though she’s still padding in bedroom slippers and a sloppy ponytail. Her eyebrows aren’t drawn in yet, either.    “­Sorry. I was just letting him in before he got too loud,” I say, swatting at the half dozen bloodsuckers that are now darting around the kitchen.    The sun was barely up when I heard the meows. They echoed through our backyards, sounding like one of those ­spirits that ­Abuela warns ­about—​­a ­tátara-​something‑or‑​other buried back in Cuba who gets testy if they think they’ve been forgotten by their descendants.    ­Anyway, when I flipped on the light, I found ­Tuerto glaring at me from outside, his front claws clinging high and wide against the screen like he was the victim of a stickup.    “Did that cat shred the mesh again?” Mami asks, exasperated. “Your father just fixed it last week.”    “No.” I move my body to hide the new tear near the seam. She’s not above making me pay for the repair. But can I help it if our cat is a genius? He’s learned to yowl and shake the door to let us know he wants to come in. I’ve taken videos of him doing that trick because, one, my friend ­Wilson and I like trading