Thank you for beta'ing, MsSchneeheide!
HEY...so i need to make this huge change and announcement! Equality Charter School? It's no more. Charter schools are complicated, it's like being homeschooled and you get one teacher, I just found out and Mari sounds like she's going to regular high school and Raiza in a pre/K class Karla teaches...because that is what I know! Never gone to a charter school in my life...just seen it in The Fosters and didn't notice they just get one teacher and don't go to school every day, but okay you do you boo.
What I did find out, is Martin Van Buren High (which is where i put Mari and co in TCNL) is a fifty-seven second walk to Parson's Preschool where Raiza, Eva, Lucy, and Benji would go. The slightly older small children-Gloria's boys, Christina, Emiliano, and Raiza the following year, would go to Jamaica Public School 135-just a short bus ride away (14 minutes) or 31 minute walk/six minute drive from the high school. Tricia goes to Marie Curie Middle with Mercy, but that doesn't much matter since they're not really mains. Blanca and her people, they went to all of those schools! I'm glad I just mentioned Equality Charter a few times lol, that is gone for good now! I know I made Janae 13, but she's almost fourteen so she's in high school too.
Happy Valentine's Day! (Or Galentine's!)
"Hey pipsqueak, what's wrong?" Flaca's heart goes out to Maritza, who's just sitting under a tree and sobbing like a damsel in distress. She's even wearing a white cotton dress with her hair disheveled, reminding Flaca of her heroine in the live action edition of The Hunchback of Notre Dame. "You really givin' me Salma Hayek as hella sad and scared Esmeralda vibes."
Maritza pauses long enough to take a few sharp gasps of air. She holds her hand up. "Yo, I don't need a man to save me, though."
"I totally never said that! You just seem real depressed."
"Nothin' too bad." Maritza snivels. "Ain't like I'm about to be hung in the town square for not returning some old creep's lustful affections. You skippin' class too?" Her breath catches and she whimpers.
"Nah, I had to use el baño, pero...I saw you here and got a little worried." Flaca informs her as she takes a spot next to the newest member of her squad. "So, what's with the cryin'?"
the bathroom, but
"I wanna s-stop, pero no puedo," Maritza says brokenly. She covers her eyes with her hand and keeps her other arm around her knees. "Ay dios mío..."
but I can't
"Deep breaths, okay? Like this..." Flaca inhales and exhales slowly and Maritza copies her while keeping her eyes closed. "Do that for ten seconds each, maybe ten times, or until you get it under control. Analyze the space around you and use all your senses. I'm right here, Mari. Estoy aquí. Estás bien."
I'm here. You're okay.
After a while, Maritza seems to be more calm as her rapid breathing slows to a normal pace. She opens her eyes and manages a smile, much to Flaca's relief. "Okay, I'm sitting on a patch of grass, and I smell some flowers, I see you and the school and random students milling around...I feel the warm sun on my face, and I...I hear silence, but the good kind...peaceful." Maritza squeezes Flaca's hand. "Muchas gracias, Flaca."
"Oh, good! Hey...that's just what my mom told me to do when I'd have mine."
"Your what?"
"Panic attacks."
"You get 'em, too?" Maritza wonders aloud.
Flaca nods. "Sometimes. May I ask, though, ¿qué pasó?"
What happened?
"Una larga historia..."
A long story
"You wanna talk about it?" Flaca asks.
"Maybe I will at lunch. What are yours about?"
Flaca pulls at a rip in her black stockings. "Nada importante. ¿Estás bien ahora?"
Nothing important. You okay now?
"For now, just...por favor...stay with me...unless you gotta go to the bathroom."
"Nah, I went, but I don't mind missing class for you."
Maritza leans her head on Flaca's shoulder and Flaca wraps her arm around the smaller girl. "You're such a good friend," she mumbles.
"Anytime, chiquita," Flaca murmurs and beams down at her. Maritza grins shyly as she stays close to Flaca.
Blanca sits across from the white brunette lady, whose nametag reads Diane Ford. She's glad her feet are under the table so Diane won't see her constantly wiggling them out of nervousness. She has finally gotten called in for an interview at Friendly's, after delivering her resume to about fifty other restaurants in New York. Diane peers over her resume.
"I'm impressed. Rose Court Senior Living in Phoenix?"
Blanca nods. "I worked there for, um, ten years...in food service. I would make the elderly folks meals and serve them."
"Why did you leave?"
There it is, the big question, the one that's much worse than 'tell me about yourself'.
"I moved away...for personal reasons."
"When did you first learn to cook?"
"I was in cooking class in high school, and I was gonna major in Culinary Arts at New York University, but then I became a mother..." Blanca chuckles awkwardly. "Maybe I'll go to college when my youngest daughter gets to be the age she can stay home alone. I can't really afford a babysitter at the moment and my oldest is often busy with homework and I don't want to take away too much of her social life."
"I know how that is," Diane tells her sympathetically. "Can you describe your strengths and weaknesses?"
"I'm very friendly...patient...hard working...I do really well under stress. I'm also trilingual...Spanish is my native language, English my second, but I'm very good, and I know a little bit of French. I can understand some Russian, but that's it."
"Oh, wow, that's amazing!" Diane grins, probably delighted.
"I'm not the greatest at one-on-one communication, and it takes me a while to trust someone...but I can work on that."
"Do you want to own your own restaurant someday?"
"Yes."
"What are some exemplary recipes you have created?"
"I can remember one...it was my favorite soup to make. Sancocho."
"Why don't you cook that for me?"
"Okay...sure."
Dean worked at a bank, and for a few years, she was his accountant. He only let her switch to cooking for the elderly, because he thought it would turn her into a better cook-he was always demanding crazy things for her to make, that not even the ten best cooks can make, let alone one. The cranky old white people were so demanding that she wanted to quit, but she needed the money and she enjoyed cooking for herself, if not for them. Another part of it is that someone had overheard him yelling at her over something minor and she was asked about random injuries. Then he fired her, so he wouldn't get in trouble, and so he would have power over her. Firing people was one of his favorite things to do, other than hitting his wife or making the children feel stupid. She'd hugged and kissed him in gratitude, and he pushed her off of him and laughed at her for actually believing he was allowing her to be a chef because she wanted to become one. She has to stop thinking about him, or she'll go crazy and not get the job at Friendly's.
After Blanca finishes making the meal, Diane tastes it and says something in Italian. Blanca doesn't understand her, but it appears as if Diane likes her cooking.
"You like it?" she asks hopefully.
"Yes! Muy delicioso. When can you start?"
Blanca giggles softly. "Anytime."
"Great! See ya later, Blanca. I'll send you an email about when to come in."
"Okay! ¡Adiós!" Blanca and Diane exchange a handshake and then leave the interview room.
The bell rings, and Maritza gets up. After she and Flaca hug and separate, Maritza wipes away her tears and walks back to class. Ms. Bell returns her phone and she then goes to lunch. She tells her clique what happened and pretty soon, they're talking about other stupid teachers they have or have had in the past. When the conversation dies down, everyone quietly finishes their lunches.
"Hey, before I forget...slumber party at my house Friday night," Flaca announces. "You girls down?"
"Yeah! Let's practice our cheerleading routine!" Elena says excitedly.
"Oh, that'll be fun!" Cat squeals.
"For sure!" Sirena agrees.
"Totally," Daya chimes in.
"I'll go...I'll ask my Ma, like I said before on text," Maritza tells the girls.
"I have homework," Ceci lets them know.
"Me too," Ouija adds.
"I'm gonna be with Little Frank," Pidge mutters.
"Mm-hm, me and Yads are goin' on a double date with 'em!" Maria pipes up.
"Is it too late to join cheerleading?" Maritza asks.
"Tryouts are this week, so you're in luck," Daisy informs her.
"I don't think you'll make it, though...you have to be peppy, and to be honest, you're morose...you mope around. Like, ever since we met you, you have this sort of scowl on your face...you're terrible at hiding your emotions. You don't like it here," Zirconia says rudely in passing.
"Well, I'm sure cheerleaders have to be friendly, too, and you wouldn't be one, because you just insulted me without even knowing what the fuck my story is, and your grills are ugly as shit." Flaca forms her mouth in an O shape and glances away. The others just smirk. "You're judging me based on your own assumptions! Besides, you're one of the most stuck up people I've ever met! You don't want me on the squad, too bad, I'mma try out for cheerleading, and you ain't gonna stop me."
Zirconia makes a bitch face at Maritza and gets up. She leaves the table, and everyone starts cracking up. "You rock," Flaca comments. "Lo siento, that bitch just invited herself to our table..."
"Thanks," Maritza tells her proudly. "It's okay!"
"You might be good at basketball,
You might be good at track,
But when it comes to football,
You might as well step back!"
Blanca smiles as she watches her daughter cheer loudly and kick nice and high. She had no idea that Maritza's trying out for cheerleading, but she'll be happy if Maritza makes it. She just hopes the uniforms won't cost too much money.
"Look, Mama, sissy is dancing, I wanna dance too!" Raiza squeals cheerfully, and Blanca spins her little girl around.
"Great job, Maritza," a white woman with cropped blonde hair tells her. "You'll be an excellent addition to the varsity squad."
"I got in?"
"You sure did, and practice is Monday through Friday, from three to four."
"Sounds good, thanks, Ms. Jones." Maritza and the woman shake hands and then she goes to meet her mother.
"Oh, baby, I'm so proud of you!" Blanca squeals. She hugs Maritza, and then Raiza copies her. They're about to go on the bus, but Maritza stops them.
"We have to see my stupid science teacher first. Come on, she's furious at me, and I know where her office is."
Blanca's about to ask Maritza a question, but her daughter speeds up ahead of her. Raiza's shouting, "Wait for me!" and Blanca scoops her up while quickly following Maritza.
"Honey, slow down."
"No way, I want to get this over as fast as possible before we miss the last bus."
"Whatever you did, don't do it again," Blanca reprimands her. "You already got in enough trouble with Karla, you don't need an old gringa on your ass, too."
Maritza huffs as she opens her teacher's office door. "Hi, Ms. Bell, this is my mom...and my sister."
"Hi, my name is Blanca Flores." She politely shakes hands with the strict looking blonde woman who's more built like a sumo wrestler than anything. She still doesn't look as huge and scary as Ginger, which is what Blanca called her former health teacher from middle school.
"You can all sit down."
Blanca and Maritza take their spots in the chairs and Raiza climbs into Blanca's lap.
"What seems to be the matter?" Blanca asks.
"My students have taken photos of your daughter texting her friends in my class and she was tardy. She then proceeded to freak out in the middle of my class and then storm out, which I find completely rude. I don't want this kind of behavior around me at all."
Blanca puts her hand on top of her daughter's. "You do realize that's an invasion of her privacy, don't you? I'm sure Maritza didn't mean to be disrespectful. She's having trouble with all the changes...you know, of moving across the country-"
"She can get used to it."
A mix of Frida Kahlo and Minerva Miribal suddenly flow through Blanca and she feels a great amount of rage. The urge to protect her daughter grows even stronger and she feels like shouting angrily in Spanish, but she knows Ms. Bell won't understand it. "Look, I don't know who you think you are, but if you just assume you can get away with talking to me or her like this, you've got a whole other thing coming. She won't text in your class anymore, I'll make sure of it...and she has to take care of her sister at school, too, so expect her to be late sometimes. It is not her fault. If you got a problem with that, you can shove it and take it up with Karla, she's always on our side! Okay?" She doesn't wait for the teacher's response. "Come on, we're going." Blanca stands up and pulls her children out of the office. "¡Vámonos, tengo tal poca paciencia para gente como ella!"
Let's go, I have such little patience for people like her!
"Me too. Thanks, Ma!" Maritza says brightly.
"You're welcome, but you cannot use your phone in that class anymore...in fact, that should be for me only. You can talk to your friends at school during lunch and in passing...and you can text your friends before or after school, or on holidays and weekends."
"Well, anyone who's anyone has a phone!" Maritza protests.
"You'll have to tell your friends that you have limited texting. I don't want you getting in trouble anymore, I don't want to deal with bitches, it's too much stress for both of us!"
"Mami, we don't learn real life stuff in school...why are we in it if we're trying to make ends meet?"
Blanca rolls her eyes. "Children go to school, that's why. You'll never get a job if you're not educated. The law requires anyone under eighteen to attend escuela. Any more questions?"
"¿Qué tal si nos educas en casa y luego vemos a nuestros amigos durante el almuerzo?"
How about you homeschool us and then we see our friends during lunch?
"Honey, I have to work...I have no time to homeschool you girls. I got a job at Friendly's, by the way."
"Wow! Congratulations!" Maritza says happily.
"Yay!" Raiza cheers as they board the bus.
"Oh, Ma...can I go to Flaca's house for a slumber party on Friday night?"
Blanca feels guilty. "That's the day I'm going out with some new friends of mine that I've made, and we don't have money for someone to watch Raiza...I'm sorry, sweetie."
"Mama, I wanna see my friends too!"
"This works out," Maritza chirps in response to Raiza's statement. "Raiza can go to her friend's house, and you can get her when you're done with your ladies night out! Por cierto, are these friends of yours from school?"
By the way
"Sí...I met them at the social mixer."
Maritza nudges Blanca and grins. "See, I told you, that was good for you to go to!"
Blanca smiles at her oldest girl. "I know, I'm very happy I went."
"So am I!"
"It's coming up," Flaca says with distaste. She sits down at the dinner table next to Pedro. Their mother and brother Marco are sitting across from them. The family knows what she's talking about. "It's been almost three years. Cheerleading is the only thing that keeps me from breaking into tiny pieces. At home, it's watching things with Salma in them, her voice is so calming, and listening to The Smiths over and over again. Being around Mari and the rest of the gang makes me feel better, too."
Flaca and her little brother Marco fight constantly, but about this issue, he seems serious and sympathetic. Pedro, eleven years old, but already as tall as her, puts down his fork that's full of the bite of tamale he's about to eat, and pulls her shaking form into his arms. "It'll all be okay, Flaca, you'll see," he soothes her.
Theresa comes around the table and hugs them from behind, and then Marco joins in. "Mi bebé, todos estamos aquí para ti," she soothes Flaca.
My baby, we are all here for you
Flaca gulps. "My birth dad would say I was too tall and not fit to be a cheerleader, let alone the captain...it's true...I'm too babyish to do anything for myself."
"That's not true at all. You are the best and strongest girl I know," Theresa reassures Flaca, and her brothers nod in agreement.
Flaca blinks back tears and beams. "Gracias, mi familia...pero, Papá left porque he didn't want a daughter."
"Well, he missed out on a great one," Theresa mutters. She kisses the top of Flaca's head and then her cheek. "Mi pobre querida, lo siento..."
my poor dear, I'm sorry
Flaca chews on her lip. "Do you think it would be a bad idea for me to have my slumber party that night?"
Pedro grins at his sister. "No, you'll have fun. If you have any panic attacks, we'll all be right here, and your friends will support you no matter what!"
Flaca beams. "Okay!"
Maritza is relieved that Blanca finally found a job, but being a waitress isn't the best job for a poor single mother of two, to have. She decides to start looking for a burger place to work at so she can help out with the income, but then she backs out of that plan since she might be serving people she knows from school. She will have to find a job that's far away from school. The fact that her friends now know she has limited texting, as she has told them, is embarrassing enough. In the school's library on Tuesday, she fills out some online job applications for cleaning houses and babysitting in all five boroughs, but mostly Queens. The pay won't be great, but it'll do. She goes straight to lunch with her friends and explains she was doing homework and that's why she was late to lunch. She can't believe she's already popular, being the new girl and all, but she is. Only the fact that she's truly poor will make it all come tumbling down. It'll ruin her, but she'll make sure to keep this secret hidden for the rest of her life.
Diablo serenades Blanca with the song Bésame Mucho, and she just sits there with her chin in her hand and sways to the sound of his soothing voice. It's like he's Antonio Banderas and she's Salma Hayek in Desperado, but the other way around with him singing instead of her. She really wants to sing Quédate Aquí like Salma had in the movie, but she can't. She can dance, though, and he pulls her to her feet while singing and spinning her around and her long hair fans out behind her and some lands over her shoulders. He never gets out of breath, and she doesn't know why. They're under starlight on a grassy field and barefooted and teenagers.
Opening the yearbook she'd taken from Dean since he had burned hers and leafing through it, running her finger down the list of her classmates' names, and finding Diablo's, had conjured up that daydream in Blanca's mind. Tonight, she's decided to go to a bar with Karla for some relaxation while Maritza stays at home to take care of Raiza. Blanca has to force herself out of her fantasies and focus on her best friend and their surroundings.
"Should I feel bad I'm leaving 'em at home?"
"Nah...us mamas need to get our kicks, too!" Karla orders an orange soda while Blanca gets beer. They both share a plate of fries.
Blanca chuckles. "So true, chica." She inspects her short, bare fingernails and frowns. "Should I get these done before I start working? They look awful. Ugh!"
"You can if you want." Karla shows Blanca her fresh manicure. "Check it out! It's gel."
"What a pretty red color! Which salon do you recommend I go to?"
"Aleida's, for sure. She's muy buena."
Blanca scoffs and laughs. "Ay, tonta finally got her life together?" She dips a fry in ranch dressing and Karla does the same.
"Yeah! Almost, anyway." Karla chuckles. "She just needed a push in the right direction. Now, all she gotta do is get rid of Cesar and stick with Leon from now on. Anyway, if you wanna get hair and makeup done too, then Sophia's your girl for that."
"I don't remember her. Is she new or something?"
Karla shakes her head no. "She's Crystal's wife now, used to be Marcus Burset. We all thought he was gay, pero ahora, el es una ella."
but now, he is a she
"Oh, yeah! Well, good that he-carajo, lo siento, she...finally feels comfortable in her own body."
"Yeah."
"How much do the ladies charge for their services?" Blanca asks worriedly.
"Um...twenty-five for gel, twenty for basic, and as for Sophia, a lot more." Karla sighs, appearing to be pained. "I could try to get 'em to do it for free, or I could just give you a makeover myself," she offers. "I'm not sure if I'd be any good..."
Suddenly, Blanca gasps. "Flaritza! It's what my daughter and Flaca call themselves because they're both so good at beauty and fashion and they've been making these silly little videos they post on YouTube. It's so cute...and I may ask them. Maritza's been dying to doll me up for the longest time now, but we just haven't had the opportunity."
"Hey, you go, girl!"
"However, I will take Aleida up on her twenty-dollar mani. Maybe even a pedi..."
"Es veinte mas dolares," Karla warns her.
It's twenty more dollars.
"Lo sé, pero...es una emergencia."
I know, but it's an emergency
"You wanna reconnect with her too, don't ya?"
Blanca nods and beams. "Me lees como un libro, mi mejor amiga." Karla grins while winking at her and swivels from side to side on her stool. Blanca gets off of hers and points to their food. "You want the rest of that? I'm getting full." Her head is buzzing and she's so glad Karla's pregnant and is automatically their designated driver.
You read me like a book, my best friend
"Comiendo por dos, ¿recuerdas?"
Eating for two, remember?
"Sí."
Aleida was just as wacky and foul-mouthed to the point of being crude as Blanca had remembered, but she still gave Blanca a beautiful pink mani-pedi and Flaritza have done a wonderful job on Blanca's makeup and hair for her first day on the job. It's going quite well, actually. She's taking orders like a pro and nobody is yelling at her to hurry up. She enjoys how smoothly Diane runs the place and the woman is so sweet to her employees and their customers alike. Maritza and Raiza are having a fast food dinner with Karla, Ramón, and little Benji that Wednesday night and of course, the Córdovas had treated her daughters. She's so happy she met Karla's son at last, and he's so adorable, too.
She's carrying a plate full of a cheeseburger and fries in one hand, practically cradling them to her chest and two milkshakes in the crook of her other arm, when precisely at seven-thirty in the evening, who should walk in but the smoldering-eyed, musclebound devil himself.
It's him.
Dario Zuniga.
Or as he prefers, Diablo.
Blanca gasps. She's so shocked and pleasantly surprised to see the man who stars in her vivid dreams; she doesn't even realize she's losing her grip on what she's holding. She is snapped out of her trance with the sound of disgruntled customers swearing at her clumsiness. The tower of food on the plate and drinks in the glasses she was carrying, slips from her fingers and crashes to the floor in a cacophony of shattered glass. She's standing in it and she feels it seeping into her shoes and socks, as well, and some had gotten on the bottoms of her nice black slacks. He looks just as stunned to see her.
"Diablo!" She kneels down and gathers up all the food into a pile. "¡Carajo! Lo siento..." she tells Diane apologetically. "I'm sorry," she repeats in English. "Por favor, don't fire me!" she whispers.
"Don't worry, sweetheart, I would never do that! Let me get you a broom and a dustpan, all right?"
Blanca nods, still dumbfounded. Her heart is beating wildly against her ribcage and she wants to run into his arms right now and beg him to hold her forever, but she knows she can't. It'd be too awkward. Besides, she feels gross and sticky.
"Terrible fuckin' service," a patron mutters and starts to walk out with whoever they're with. "The manager isn't even that strict! You oughta be laid off! Mexicans, am I right?" Blanca glares in their direction and flips them off.
"Ay, callate la boca!" Karla hollers at them.
Shut up
"Yeah, she's not even Mexican, either!" Maritza adds. "She's Dominican!"
"Stupid spics stick together."
"Hey! I don't allow that racist language here," Diane scolds them as they leave. "Yeah, get outta here, loser Nazi wannabes."
"Don't you ever talk about her like that again!" Diablo shouts out the front door.
Maritza and Karla share an amused expression and Ramón exchanges a fist-bump with Diablo. "Uh oh, cheerio!" Raiza and Benji chorus. Karla and Diablo wave at each other as he goes to Blanca immediately and starts helping her clean up.
"Cuidado, don't use your hands with those broken shards, okay?" His gentle, caring voice has the ability to make her melt, and she does her best not to become a puddle of mush.
"Estoy bien," she murmurs, still blushing from embarrassment.
I'm good
It's not exactly the romantic reunion she's always imagined, but he's sweet with her as he assists her, and she can instantly recall everything about him. He hasn't changed much at all, although he looks slightly older.
She remembers that Diablo used to drive a navy blue pickup truck and she can hear in her head, what he sounds like when he laughs. His eyes are dark chocolates, like she'd never forgotten, and he has his lavish, curly hair, and a full beard, still, and of course, he has the same muscles and tattoos-his last one being a dragon on his neck. Muy guapo, the voice inside of her murmurs with pleasure. Then, she mentally wolf-whistles.
Very handsome
Blanca has sworn to herself she'll never fall in love with another man again, even if he is charming and suave and like a perfect gentleman-but Diablo may just have to be the exception to that rule.
Damn those rom-coms, making her believe in love and hope with this particular man, even after everything that's happened to her.