So I meant to post this on my birthday, since it's Blanca's birthday here, too haha ;) but I posted the wrong one by accident, sorry! This is the right one and my birthday is the 9th!

Thank you for beta'ing, MsSchneeheide!

Espera-wait

ocho-eight

"Heeeeeyyyyyy!" Flaca, Elena, Ceci, Daisy, and Cat chorus as an African American girl joins them at lunch. "Welcome back to the land of the living, freshman!" Maria tells her.

"Ahh, thanks," she murmurs through a chuckle.

"Maritza, this is our friend Ashley-Katherine Ford, or as she likes to be called, Katie or Ash. Pobrecita was out sick with the flu," Flaca introduces the girl. She looks at Katie and gestures to Maritza. "New chiquita here is Maritza Flores."

Poor dear

"Aw, that sucks," Maritza says while shaking Katie's hand. "Nice to meet you, though. I hope you're feeling better!"

"Thanks. I am!"

Maritza gives her a thumbs up.

"Hey, now that the peacekeeper between our two tribes is back, can we join you bitches for lunch? Or are y'all still just too fuckin' selfish?"

"Cindy, what the fuck, if you don't like the Spanish chicks and they're rude to us, why do you wanna eat with 'em?" Taystee asks.

"Newsflash bitch, none of us are from Spain!" Flaca snaps as she stands up quickly and furiously runs her hands through her hair. "You wanna go?"

"Back to Mexico with you, skinny bean?" Taystee shoots back. "No thanks."

"Ohhh!" Janae cackles at Taystee's retort. "Buuurrrn!"

"Shit, at least you got the nationality right...so that was okay," Flaca admits. "Pero, callate la boca, puta. You can't say that, unless you want me to tell you to get your fat mayate ass back to your own damn home country, wherever the fuck in Africa that is."

"That was a good one. Holy Jesus..." Elena comments. Maritza snickers under her breath and the others do the same. Beneath the table, Maritza high-fives Flaca.

"Damn, she smoked you. Sorry, T, but maybe just shut it down with the offensive language and try to get along for once?" Poussey suggests.

Taystee narrows her eyes at her best friend. "Oh, shut up, Pussy."

"Hey, no, I agree with P," Katie cuts in through a sigh. "I ain't sayin' have a giant sleepover, but...I don't understand the real issue here. A King Cone is a pretty ridiculous thing to argue about, and I'm glad P and Mrs. Córdova stopped you two from killing each other. Then fighting over a position in some fake job thing...my god! It's just all stupid drama."

"Yeah, Katie's right!" Maritza exclaims, and Flaca gasps while pressing her hand to her heart. "She is, okay? It don't gotta be a telenovela. We can watch it, but not live it. Can't you just bury the hatchet and move on? I say, the more at our table, the merrier."

"Plus, their men got big dicks, so we can giggle together about that all the time!" Maria points out and then they're soon laughing hysterically, wolf-whistling, and cheering in unison.

"As long as you're not fetishizing our dudes while hating on us and our fellow chicks, fine!" Janae says as they quiet down.

"Okay, we won't." Flaca shrugs and holds out her hand. "Truce?"

"Sure," Taystee says, and they shake on it.

"So, what's up, Emo Barbie?" Cindy asks Flaca. "You got any beauty tips for us?"

Flaca points to her face and gives the black girls a proud smile. "Four words. Liquid liner. Dark lipstick."

"Well, we can see that!" Poussey comments. "You got a cool style."

"Thanks." Flaca grins at her and Poussey returns it. "So do you. I dig the mohawk, but I could never part with my long hair."

"Oh, me neither!" Maritza says. She pokes at her Beef Wellington. "What the hell is this, by the way? It looks like caca."

"Don't let Red hear you say that!" Ceci hisses.

"Yeah, remember what I told you before?" Flaca asks rhetorically. "Don't complain about the food. Eight years ago, some blonde gringuita got a bloody tampon in her Egg McMuffin sandwich for insulting the chef."

"Ay dios mío, talk about dramatic!" Maritza hisses.

"It was funny, Zaza, she had it comin', you would've thought so, too!" Daisy insists.

"Stupid fuckin' brat was dumb enough to get herself in trouble with Red," Cat murmurs.

"How do you girls know this about a student who went here almost a decade ago?"

"She's the first who opened her big mouth about it and then screamed when she got her disgusting gift! She's pretty notorious around here...my mom talks about her whenever possible. Piper Chapman was her name," Daya informs Maritza. "Her parents are filthy rich, so of course, they gave Red a gigantic wad of cash to be nice to their precious little girl for the rest of the time she went here. I think Red just chose to be friendlier on her own."

"Oh, wow!"

"You might be the new her, though, because ooooh, you got soooo busticated en tu primer día de escuela!" Ouija chuckles and Pidge joins in.

on your first day of school

Maritza's cheeks burn in embarrassment. "Hey, could we not mention that fiasco? Señora Córdova and I are good now. Who even told you, anyway?" She sends an accusatory glance towards Elena.

"Not me!" Elena protests. "I wouldn't talk about you behind your back, I swear!"

"That's good to know," Maritza tells her.

"Zirconia's friends with me and O, so the rest is pretty self-explanatory," Pidge says. "She was in the same class."

"Aw, shit, well, I am in no way like this tonta Piper Chapman," Maritza insists. "First off, I don't even resemble her if she was blonde and white...and we don't have the same financial status. She seems a lot more rude, too."

"Oh, she was! She still is a pile of shit, just like her parents," Flaca mutters. "My mami sewed dresses for her and her stuck-up mom once, and they were so demanding! She was getting married and her groom wasn't even that attractive either, so Mami couldn't even flirt with him to get some sweet revenge. If I had been eighteen or older, I wouldn't have been able to either. Don't worry, Mari, you're much better than her. You're a thousand times the woman she is, and waaaaay prettier."

Maritza sighs with relief. "¡Gracias a Dios!"

"Why don't you try yoga class?"

Blanca wrinkles her nose and shakes her head. "No offense..." She looks at the short Italian woman's nametag. "Nurse Lorna...pero, it's for white people, which I am clearly not."

The lady purses her red lips, glares at Blanca, and plays with her forties movie star curls a little. "It was a suggestion! No need to be racist."

"Hey, sis, don't yell at the patients, okay?" a taller brunette scolds her in passing.

"Oh, can it, Franny!" Lorna rolls her eyes.

"Sorry...but weren't you the one giving me judgey vibes when I told you I was fifteen years older than my daughter and said you weren't surprised since I'm Mexican, but I'm actually Dominican, and then you tried to make it sound like a joke, but it actually wasn't?"

"Uh..." Lorna stutters. "I didn't mean it like that..."

Blanca folds her arms across her chest. "Oh, so you're just ignorant. Good to know. Is it your first day or something?"

"Yeah. I apologize for being offensive," Lorna says, and it sounds sincere, probably because both Franny and Dr. Burset are staring her down. "I was a candy striper in high school, but only worked with white women, so-"

"Gracias," Blanca interrupts her, wanting to move forward into the professional part of their conversation. "So how was our checkup?"

"Ah, everything's peachy keen with y'all! I must say, for a poor lady with kids, you're doing pretty good. Franny's like that, too, but she lives with our parents. I do, as well."

"That's great for you chicas." Blanca gives her a polite smile. "Thanks for seeing us on such short notice."

"You're welcome!"

As Blanca leaves, Sophia grins at her apologetically. "Sorry about Ms. Morello," she whispers. "She's not mean on purpose. She just doesn't know everything."

"Yeah, she loca," a Hispanic nurse chimes in.

Blanca nods in understanding and leads Maritza and Raiza out the door. "I see."

"Someone tell that one to take her meds!" Maritza pipes up and Blanca shushes her. Once they're outside and no one can overhear them, she continues. "I honestly think she got the job, only 'cause her sister paid the boss and slept with him!"

Blanca chuckles. "Maybe...but you know, women shouldn't tear each other down with gossip and slut-shaming. So don't you start, okay? It ain't cool."

"Well...she insulted you! Don't you wanna take a swing at her? I did!"

"I was the bigger person because I stood up for myself without physically fighting her, and that's enough! I don't wanna dwell on it. Honestly. She seemed like a kid who didn't know better. At least she didn't call us spics, or I would've pulled out the big D word."

"Ehhh, which one is that?"

"Dago," Blanca responds in a hushed voice. "It's an insult to Italians, but don't ever repeat that. It's as awful as the S and N slurs."

"Ooooh, alright."

Raiza skips ahead of them and they're almost to the curb where their bus stop is, so Blanca pulls her youngest daughter back to her side. "Mamaaaa!"

"Not too close to the street, nena."

"Whyyy?" Raiza whines while tugging on Blanca's hand.

"It's dangerous! You could get very badly hurt by cars that don't see you because you're tiny. Stay by Mami y tu hermana mayor."

Mommy and your big sister

"Okay," Raiza murmurs and kicks at the snow.

"So, you get what I'm saying, Mari?"

"Yeah, but...one has to wonder why she was hired if she's like that," Maritza states. "A child. I hope she's never stabbed anyone by mistake with a needle or whatever."

"I'm sure she's been trained...in the medical field, at least. Gotta give everyone a fair chance in life so they can succeed and get a good income to support themselves and their family, right?"

"Yeah..."

Ever since Flaca had told the girls what happened to her a year prior, nobody has mentioned it. They don't want to make her feel uncomfortable. Maritza really hopes Flaca is okay now, though. She seems it, but she could be screaming with pain inside. So as they're walking down the dark street to the bus stop after their Teresa bingeing session at the Mendoza apartment on Tuesday night, Maritza pulls at a bangle around Flaca's wrist to get the taller girl's attention. "'Sup?" Flaca wants to know as she puts her arm around Maritza.

"Just wanted to check up on ya, make sure you're safe."

"That's totally sweet of you, pero whaddya mean? I'm perfectly fine, you don't gotta panic."

There's no beating around the bush, Maritza just needs to come out and ask her question. "He's not gonna escape and try to stalk you, right? I'm hella worried that something could happen to you. Lo siento for bringing it up..." Maritza looks down at the ground, feeling guilty.

"Gracias for being concerned, pero no tienes que preocuparte. He got deported, so he's truly gone for good!"

You don't gotta worry.

Maritza breathes a sigh of relief. "Oh, okay! I'm glad."

Flaca smiles at her under the street lamplight, her eyes twinkling with delight. "Me too."

Just then, a car pulls up to them and a ginormous bearded white man with thinning hair honks his horn. "Hey, girlies. You need a ride?" He licks his lips and waggles his eyebrows suggestively.

They link arms and huddle closer together than they had been before. "Gross. No thanks, gordo," Maritza grumbles. "We ain't even legal."

A young Caucasian woman with her straightened brown hair in pigtails, slightly resembling one of the missing ladies, is stretched out in the backseat, dressed as a hooker and resting in a creepy-looking gringo's arms while chugging down a can of Mountain Dew. Something is seriously wrong with this picture. A bald white guy with dark eyes and a twisted smirk on his face sits in the passenger seat. Bad vibes are radiating off everyone in that vehicle.

"Yeah, we'll find our own way home," Flaca mutters.

"Suit yourselves, hotties," the thinner asshole says. "Brown señoritas earn more than they would if they were maids, like I know you both are."

The couple in the backseat start swapping spit and an involuntary shudder comes over Maritza as the car drives off.

"Carajo, what the fuck..." Flaca starts.

"Ugh! I know," Maritza says. "I'm just happy they didn't kidnap us."

"Same here."

"I'm not telling my mom."

"Me neither," Flaca agrees. "I'm just proud of us for staying away from potentially dangerous situations like sex trafficking."

"The girl didn't seem bad off, and it ain't like they forced us to join them." Maritza shrugs. "It was a little scary at first, but all's we gotta do is be smart and not go anywhere with strangers. Prostitution is just a way some chicks make a living. It's a choice. She probably knows them well. It's up to her if she wants to leave, I guess."

"Mm-hm."

"One chocolate, one vanilla." Blanca finds herself serving Diablo at Friendly's again. This time, he's accompanied by a short dark-skinned boy, who must either be Diablo's son from a black lady or just some random child he's babysitting.

"¿Tienes un hijo?" she wonders aloud with a huge grin as she gives him and the kid a milkshake.

You have a son?

Diablo nods. "Sí." He messes up the boy's hair and then fixes it again. "Este es Laronne. Su madre, mi esposa, murío cuando él era un bebé, y le he estado cuidando desde entonces."

His mother, my wife, died when he was a baby, and I've been taking care of him ever since.

"Hola, Laronne, soy Blanca," she introduces herself and he gives her a head nod. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thanks. I already knew your name, Daddy talks about you all the time. He said you were working here and he wanted me to meet you before taking you out on a date. So, hey."

Diablo mutters a curse in Spanish. "Smooth!" Blanca comments and then giggles behind her hand.

"So much for keeping a secret," Diablo mumbles and smears some whipped cream on Laronne's nose.

"Aw, man," Laronne groans and wipes it off. He licks his finger. "You know I suck at that!"

"We pinky swore!" Diablo protests. "Dude!"

"Sorry!"

Blanca chuckles at their exchange. "Sure, I can go out with you, Diablo, but can it be like a group thing? I was gonna do a girls outing for my birthday tomorrow night, but we can include guys, si tú quieres venir."

If you wanna come.

Diablo sips his vanilla milkshake. "Of course! I'm down with whatever, as long as you're comfortable."

She beams at him. "¡Perfecto!" She glances over at Laronne. "Does your papá teach you Spanish?"

"I know some stuff."

"Ah, ¡bueno!" She gives Diablo a thumbs up and he winks at her in response. "Hey, I'll ask my daughter to watch your son, if that's alright."

"No way! I don't need that, I'm nine!"

"You're ocho," Diablo corrects him.

"Well, she's looking after Karla's son, who is way younger than you, so maybe you can help her and get a little dinero?" Blanca suggests.

"Okay, fine," Laronne agrees.

"You really don't have to pay him," Diablo tells her. "I'll give Maritza cash to look after him while we're both out tomorrow."

"Alright," Blanca says. "Gracias."

"De nada."

Blanca's thirty-second birthday is on Wednesday and with Raiza's assistance, Maritza makes her mother breakfast in bed. They wake her up when it's ready and they've eaten. "Felíz cumpleaños a tí, felíz cumpleaños a tí, felíz cumpleaños a Mami, felíz cumpleaños a tí!" they sing in unison while presenting her with her meal.

"Oh, chilaquiles, ¡mi favorita!" Blanca exclaims. "¡Gracias, mis preciosas niñas!" She sets her food on the nightstand and gathers her girls in her arms. "I love you so much," she murmurs tearfully as she kisses the tops of their heads and their cheeks.

Thank you, my precious girls!

"I love you too, Mami," Raiza tells her.

"Yeah, también te amo, Mami," Maritza repeats in Spanish. She feels bad that she hasn't even thought or spoken about Blanca's birthday until now. It was never really celebrated since she was fifteen, apparently. Dean saw her quinces as the last birthday party she really needed. He'd always say that she owed him for taking her out once a year on her special day and that the kids should be grateful they get to join their parents at such a nice joint. The only "family friends" they had were Carlos, Linda, and Biff Stratman. Maritza could tell that Blanca was never happy on her own birthdays. She wanted to spend them with just her girls. So, today, Maritza's going to make her a cake and buy her something at the mall, probably those earrings Blanca has been eyeing. She'd told Blanca to hang out with her peeps that evening and then have dessert and open presents with her daughters after.

"You don't need to get me anything," Blanca tells her just before Karla picks them up. She puts her hands on either side of Maritza's face. "Tenerlas a vosotras chicas en mi vida es suficiente regalo."

Having you girls in my life is enough of a gift.

Maritza beams up at her. "Gracias, Mamá, pero yo quiero conseguirte algo."

Thanks Mom, but I wanna get you something.

Blanca touches her jaw fondly and pecks her temple. "You're sweet, niñita. Okay, pero no mucho. No estás rica."

Okay, but not much. You're not rich.

"¡Lo sé!"

"So, how's Maritza?" is the first question that pops out of Aleida's mouth after telling Blanca felíz cumpleaños that night. From the first time Blanca had brought her oldest into Aleida's nail salon, the crass woman had taken a serious shine to her. It's probably because they have similar attitudes, although Maritza is a little more respectful in the way she words things when speaking to others. However, Blanca often needs to correct her on how she talks to her elders and people Blanca's age. The whole time Aleida did Maritza's French manicure, they were laughing and gossiping about who-knows-what together. Maritza has said Aleida is super cool and already like a tía to her.

"She's great, doing well in school and making tons of friends. Gracias for asking. My precious girl insisted on getting me something for mi cumpleaños."

"Wow, if Daya showed that much appreciation for me, we'd get along a hell of a lot better!" Aleida mutters.

Blanca smiles at her sympathetically. "Lo siento."

"Hey, Diablo, my main dude!" Leon greets the curly-haired guy as he strides through the doors of the Monte Carlo Room. They fist bump and then hug, and then Ramón and Hassan join them.

"They all work for Leon at his construction site," Karla informs Blanca.

"Oh, I see! That's neat."

"Yeah, I'm kinda the odd man out." James shrugs. He stands up and greets Diablo in the same way the other guys had.

"James is my soldier boy," Lila explains with a smile. "He's a general in the military." She and the rest of the women hug Diablo hello and then Blanca goes up to him last.

"Hola," she murmurs while embracing him.

"Felíz cumpleaños," he tells her sweetly as he wraps his strong arms around her. It's the first time they've ever had any physical contact, besides exchanging hi-fives here and there when they'd been teenagers. Of course, there was that one time he'd iced one of her many fat lips. His touch is so warm and comforting, and she feels like she's at home, being this close to him. She sighs at the gentle beat of his heart against her cheek and how protected he makes her feel. She never wants him to let her go, and this shocks her to her core. His kisses and caresses are probably so soft and romantic-wait, why is her mind going there?! Stop it, she scolds herself. "Me encanta tu vestido. You look glamorous and enchanting," he compliments her.

I love your dress.

"Mm, gracias," she mumbles while blushing. She wants to squeeze his muscles so badly right now. Bésame, señor...sólo en mis sueños.

Kiss me, sir, only in my dreams.

Blanca had decided to wear her new red dress this evening for her small adult fiesta. She would have even if Diablo wasn't there, but she enjoyed the fact that he's now seen her looking nice after so long. She'd curled her hair, put on high heels, makeup, and jewelry, too, and a pretty hat and scarf, but the only thing she forgot in her haste, was a jacket. She hopes her black cardigan will keep her warm enough. The room's plentiful heating combined with her dancing, should do the trick. She's amazed that Diablo's black suit and red tie go so well with her outfit, but she assumes maybe her ladies had something to do with that. They're all in dresses, too. Karla's is blue, Alison's yellow, Aleida's purple, and Lila's green. Their men are also in elegant evening wear.

Blanca and Diablo separate and sit at the table together between two of their couple friends. On Blanca's side is Karla and Ramón, and on Diablo's, is Hassan and Alison. The group chats through dinner, and Blanca's never had so much fun with people her own age before-at least not since the start of her sophomore year in high school.

"Weevil and me got out early for good behavior," Diablo is saying of his prison experience. "We were model inmates, in fact. The warden said we were so bueno at construction in woodshop, that he got in touch with Leon and recommended us for the job once we were released!"

Leon beams proudly. "It's true."

"Wow!" Blanca exclaims and the others appear to be impressed as well. "Why'd you do it in the first place, though, D?" she asks him. "Get yourself arrested, I mean...if you don't mind me asking?"

Diablo sighs. "I honestly didn't know what else to do with myself."

"Shit, you were that bored?" Alison wonders aloud and shakes her head. "Jeez, man..."

"Yo sé, I was a stupid kid, pero...I'll never do that again!"

"Well, good!" Hassan says.

After the dinner and small dessert, the couples-including Blanca and Diablo-dance the salsa and tango for about an hour before they all need to go home.

"I really enjoyed myself!" Blanca tells her friends.

"I could tell, you were really letting loose!" Karla says. "You deserved every bit of it, though, chica."

"Aw, gracias." Blanca grins at her best friend. "Well, now I'm just gonna go home and relax with my girls and eat some yellow cake with chocolate frosting and rainbow sprinkles, open a present or two." She doesn't expect anything from any of her crew, because the ladies have already gotten her the expensive dress and she isn't all that close to the men.

"Yum. Hey, that reminds me!" Diablo pulls a small silver box out of his pocket and opens it. Blanca gasps in shock when he pulls out the necklace. It's gold, shimmery, and has a few red rose-shaped pendants hanging down in a decorative pattern.

"¡Oh, es muy bonito! Muchas gracias!" she cries. A lump threatens to crawl into her throat. It's been too long since a guy was kind to her. She isn't used to it, even though it's the same sweet boy from her youth who's now a grown man.

Oh, it's very beautiful!

"¡De nada! Would you like me to put it on for you?"

She nods eagerly. "¡Sí!"

So he does and she moves her hair out of the way. His fingers are nimble and delicate as he brings it around her and fastens the clasp at the back of her neck. She beams and has to will herself not to melt at his skin on hers.

Blanca can't resist teasing him, though. She turns around to face him and stares him dead in the eyes. "Espera, bad boy, you didn't steal this, ¿verdad?" She tries hard to appear serious, but she knows she looks anything but. She goes for a flirty smile at him instead.

Did you?

"No!" he answers and then chuckles. "For real!"

"Okay," she murmurs, pressing her lips together, but failing to stop her giggle. "Eso es bueno."

That's good.

Blanca wants to kiss Diablo so much at this moment, but she knows she really shouldn't, not until she gets permission from Maritza. She thinks they should take their kids out for bowling or something at one point maybe next week, so her girls can see that he's not only a charming and suave gentleman to their mother, but also a loving papá to his son, and he would be a wonderful father figure to them, as well. Maritza and Raiza have never seen that kind of thing before. Blanca's poor children don't know one single man with a pure soul, and that breaks her heart so much. It tears her up inside. Now she misses them more than ever. She hopes they're doing okay at this moment. They hadn't met Laronne tonight after all, as he made plans to stay with a friend at the last minute, but that's alright.

They can later.

Thank you for reading and reviewing, MsSchneeheide and Juliette45!