The Jock, The Nerd and The Geek

24

His Abuela walked out of the kitchen wearing an apron and a worried look on her face. Of course, she was aware what it was that made her grandson come out of his room but she hadn't thought he looked this bad.

His light brown skin looked... A dirty brown shade now, his brown curly hair looking ruffled and he stunk. Even from the distance she was, she could tell.

Plus, there was a wild, unhinged look in his eyes as he faced her, his voice low. "Where is it?"

He watched the corners of his Abuela's eyes crinkle as she kept staring at him. The look on her face made him a bit terrified of what he looked like but it didn't matter. He was going to return to his room and stay there. As soon as he got his computer. "Treasure—"

"It's alright, Mama,"

His Mother, Maria, walked out from the store room from the other side of the house, her hands folded with her lips pressed in a thin line. "I took it, Marcos."

He stared at his Mother. Of course, she would be the one to take it. But he didn't understand why she would do something like that. How did this concern her? "Why?"

"Why?" She asked. It was obvious that she was angry with him, or perhaps, upset in a certain state. "Marcos, you haven't left your room for more than a week now. You haven't even been to school and you're... Ruining your eyes with that stupid—"

"It's not stupid, Mother."

He had not meant to interrupt her, but it was obvious from the disbelieving look on her face that she was completely shocked he did that. Marcos had never been the type to talk back at anyone, or even put himself in a situation that he would be told off to.

They both knew it. Marcos might be a teenager, but there were certain times he didn't seem... The age. And telling him off always brought him to that point and usually Alex was the one to talk him out of it.

He closed his eyes as the thought came to his head then opened them. His brown iris pooled as an overwhelming situation hit him. He could see her everywhere.

Standing at the house door.

Sitting at the table.

Making goofy faces behind his Mother whenever she was scolding him so he wouldn't cry about it.

"I need it," His voice was low again. Tired. Defeated. His head was hurting and he felt a sudden urge to throw up in the toilet. "Please, Mother, give it back."

Maria shook her head. "I will not. I gave it to you and I can take it back. You will not spend all your days locked up in that hole of yours."

"So that's a no?" Marcos held his head. It was hurting. He could feel himself slip. Just a little. Just a fragment. To have his lisp and return to his space. To his safe place. But he had to big. At least for now.

And he wasn't sure how to feel about the fact he could hear her tell him to breathe. That everything would be alright.

Fuck.

"You look like you're taking drugs!" His Mother suddenly snapped, startling him as he took a step back, his body cowering. "You look around you as if a shadow is about to creep and grab you! You don't even look like you're eating! I knew I shouldn't have left with you that bitch—"