Buenos días, dormilón!= Good morning, sleepyhead!

Chapter Text

And all over East LA, Friday morning started out like any other, with snoozed alarms, hot showers and an excitement for the weekend.

Canelo normally awoke at 5 am to spend time with his wife, but not today.

He'd just silenced his alarm again, and was having second thoughts on his little scheme. God didn't bless him with children and Robbie was like a son. Was he overstepping?

The door creaked open and his wife Maria entered their bedroom. She brought steaming coffee in an electric blue mug. It had a chipped handle, the only survivor from a set when they first married.

"!Buenos días, dormilón!" she greeted with a twinkling smile, and he couldn't have made these early mornings for all these years if it wasn't for her. He accepted her kiss and sat up. It was for the best, he decided as he sipped his coffee, Robbie deserved more than the penance he was carving out for himself.

Over in Hillrock Heights, Robbie was running behind as he went to shower. He was up late last night talking to Canelo in a last-ditch effort to not disappoint Gabe.

"Robbie, mijo, this is for your own good," Canelo had counseled. "You can't drive Gabriel around for the rest of his life, how are you going to get a wife? Are you going to take Gabe on your dates? Your honeymoon, too?"

Robbie had rolled his eyes but listened to the old man lecture nonetheless. Canelo was right, he was overprotective, irrationally so, but if he'd stuck to his guns that fateful night, Gabe wouldn't be in a wheelchair.

He was always letting someone down, no wonder the guilt would never go away.

Sighing, Robbie lathered up, and as the water pounded his skin, his mind drifted to Daisy and how easily her lips curved into a smile and how soft she looked. He let his thoughts linger and it wasn't guilt that Robbie felt as he spent longer in the shower that morning.

Across town, Daisy was behind schedule, but that nothing new.

She usually stayed behind in the evenings so her colleagues with kids could rush out the door, and in turn they didn't mind when she arrived late.

She hummed as she rifled through her tiny closet for the perfect dress that would be professional but show her personality. Gabe's event was immediately after school and since there was a chance she'd see his brother, she needed to make a better impression. She pounced on a quirky A-line dress she'd picked up in a thrift store back on the East Coast. It was sleeveless, and the neckline was a bit lower than she normally wore, but she'd seen lower at school, and it wasn't anything a cardigan wouldn't help. Picking out a red lipstick to complement the look, Daisy smiled devilishly at her reflection. Robbie Reyes wouldn't know what hit him.

As for Gabe, he went about his day oblivious to any of the turbulence the adults in his life were experiencing.

He'd scored a way to his event, Robbie would be none the wiser, and it was pizza day in the cafeteria. Life was grand. To think of it, Robbie had been surprisingly relaxed when Gabe asked to be picked up at the library at an obscenely late time. The plan was to have Ms. Johnson drop him off before Robbie showed up. Gabe smiled as he made his way to his Chemistry lab.

This was too easy.

When school was dismissed, Daisy and Gabe made their way to Crandall High, over in a neighboring town. On the way, Gabe explained that Robbie would just pick him up from the library.

"It closes early on a Friday, though," Daisy observed. "I can just drop you home."

Gosh, she was sharp, Gabe thought. Too bad he was sharper. He made up a story about keys, Robbie's second job and that his brother was already expecting him there. It must have worked because now Ms. Johnson seemed more concerned with the wrong turn she took and the subsequent illegal U-turn to correct it.

Gabe shook his head. No way in hell could Robbie find out this lady drove him anywhere. He held on to his seat when she accelerated and cut in front of a black SUV with huge rims.

"Sorry" she apologized, glancing at him through the rear-view mirror. "I don't know why people here drive so slow in the fast lane! It makes me nuts!"

Gabe snorted. Who would've thought that she'd drive as aggressively as Robbie but in a van so ugly?

Robbie was nearing the end of his workday when he stepped away to call Gabe.

He'd only been half listening that morning, and now he was doubting his brother's directions. Did Gabe really want to be picked up hours after the school library closed? Or was it supposed to be the town library? Robbie left a voicemail and was about to send another text when he had an idea. Scrolling through his contacts, he called Jake's mom. She was a kindly if overbearing woman with all teenaged boys.

"Mrs. Porter!" Robbie greeted her. "Hey, that assignment that Gabe and Jake are working on tonight? Which library are they at?"

Oblivious, Mrs. Porter informed him that she was at Crandall High; Gabe was on stage with Jake and the rest of the team.

"They're doing so well!" she enthused. "Too bad you couldn't make it."

Robbie mumbled his thanks and ended the call before she asked any more questions, his heart thudding. Gabe had looked him the eye and lied to him. What else was he hiding? What should he do?

Canelo had left early for the day, so Robbie decided to take matters into his own hands.

"Manny!" he called out. The younger mechanic was busy texting and didn't hear him. Robbie sighed, Canelo was too easy on the kid, but he'd been Manny's age once, without a care in the world.

"Manuel," Robbie's voice was sharper this time. "I have two oil changes and a diagnostic. Think you can handle it?"

Manny blinked.

"I have faith in you," Robbie continued, remembering how Canelo helped him with his confidence when he first started. "Here are the appointments. Make sure you leave Mrs. Nguyen's car spotless. Ask Mr. Baxter about his daughter in college. And put your phone away." With those instructions, Robbie left to find out just what the hell his brother was up to.

It was rush hour and when he finally made it to the school auditorium, the sun was setting. Robbie parked his Charger next to a godawful ugly van in a handicapped spot with no identifying tag.

"So much wrong," Robbie muttered as he glanced in the van. There were piles of paper in the front passenger seat, empty water bottles and food wrappers on the floor and what looked like a sweater on the center console. But perched daintily on the dash was a dancing hula girl, smiling and oblivious to the wreck behind her.

Robbie shook his head and went inside the auditorium. He needed to finally get to the bottom of this.