.·゜゜· ·゜゜·．
"Do a flip, then."
I scoff, pushing Ricky just enough to make him stumble away from me. "Do I look like a circus monkey to you, Richard?" He raises an eyebrow, and I glare at him. "It's a rhetorical question, idiot." Finally, I turn to Big Red, who's basement we just walked into mid-argument without stopping to greet him. "Hi, Big Red."
He looks between us in confusion. "I...didn't know you guys were coming?"
I glance to Ricky, who gives a sheepish smile. "Yeah, I may have forgotten to respond to your text." He flops down onto the chair behind him. "But it's cool, right? Mars and I are a fun time."
"Me? A fun time?" I snort. "I've never had anyone say that about me before."
"Wow, you're so edgy," Ricky muttered sarcastically, reaching forward to take Rico from me. I shoot a glare his way, but loosen my grip on the baby, allowing him to plant him on his lap. "Your mom is an edge lord, Rico."
"Don't talk shit about me to our son."
"Why not? We're getting a divorce soon anyway."
I shoot a glare at him, and instantly Ricky is laughing. I've been trying really hard not to think about the fact that Ricky will have no obligation to spend time with me soon. Like...really hard.
"It's weird," Ricky starts, and both myself and Big Red turn to him, "not being at rehearsal. How weird is that?"
"What if we just did the show without her?" Big Red suggests.
I shake my head as I sink down to sit on the floor. "It won't feel the same," I mutter, picking at the lint on my jeans.
Ricky agrees. "We can't even take a picture without her." Then he pauses. "No offense," he tells Big Red.
"Nah, you're right, dude," Big Red retorts, voice laced with defeat. I mean...none of the pictures were actually useable, so he's not wrong.
I was fully prepared to sulk, maybe force the boys into watching a movie with me, but things don't ever seem to go how I plan. First Kaden showed up with Stef and Rico. They were shortly followed by Ashlyn. Then came Ben and Amy, which frankly, I don't even wanna know why the two of them were together. Then suddenly, the entire drama department is in Big Red's basement in uncomfortable silence.
Then we weren't.
I'd be lying if I said I actually listened to what everybody was saying. I listened to bits and pieces, there were some remarks about Miss Jenn's past, a few unnecessary attitude laced comments, and then we did the whole Wildcats chant. It was all very heartfelt and adorable, and I think I would have appreciated it more if my stupid baby didn't start screaming in the midst of it.
All eyes turned to me expectantly when Rico's crying blared, which, honestly is not fair, because Ricky is his damn parent too, why do they just expect the mother to take care of it? This is sexist. But I don't say that, I just pick Rico up and trudge my way up the stairs to calm him down. It's not like I was contributing to the conversation, anyway.
"You have such bad timing," I mumble to the baby, and he continues to scream. Thankfully, Big Red's parents aren't that big on noise, or else Rico would be my ticket out of this place. I rock him back and forth, sighing as his crying began to settle down. My eyes traveled to outside where the sky was turning dark, maybe Rico's mechanism thingy will power him down for the night. My hope is destroyed as he lets out a giggle, a signal he isn't anywhere near sleep. "I hate you."
"Harsh." I whirl around, surprised to see Ricky behind me. His eyebrows are raised, amused smile gracing his lips. "That's no way to talk to our son."
I roll my eyes. "Oh shut up, you told him about our divorce already, he's probably traumatized."
Ricky chuckles while I place Rico on the countertop. I lean against the granite top beside him, turning to Ricky with an expectant look. His smile widens, and he gestures to the door he just came out of leading to the basement. "So, we came up with a plan."
My eyebrows raise. "Already?"
He nods. "We're gonna attend the meeting, and then we've got this song and dance idea. True musical style, breaking into sing and dance in the middle of something random. I have a good feeling about it." Then he does the face. The one where he's about to ask me a question I'm most likely going to say no to if he doesn't do the face. To go a step further, Ricky takes my hands, gripping both of them tightly. "Will you join us?"
I scoff. "You're kidding." He doesn't crack. "Ricky, I don't know if you know me as well as you say you do, because then you'd know I don't sing nor dance."
"Mars, please," he pleads. "You're a big part of this musical, and not to mention you've got a reputation at school. Principal Gutierrez is sure to pay attention to us if we have Miss Shortlisted Valedictorian with us."
I hate it when he's right.
But I really don't want to be singing and dancing, it isn't my thing. I'm a behind the scenes person, I'm there to tell Carlos if his script changes are out of character or not.
But Ricky is doing his pouty eye thing.
And I hate to admit it, but I really care about this drama department.
I let out a sigh of defeat, and instantly, Ricky is perking up. "Fine," I mumble, and his smile grows into a grin. "Just...go easy on me. I'm not a singer, nor a dancer."
He nods quickly. "Of course, I'll be there with you every step of the way." He gives my hand a squeeze as if to solidify his promise. Then he squeezes again, this time not loosening it. "Your hands are freezing, Mars."
I flush. "Yeah, the basement is really cold, and I didn't really bring a jacket or anything because my mom is out of town so she couldn't force me."
Ricky chuckles. "Of course you didn't." Then he drops my hands, and I'm thinking I need to grab Rico so we can go downstairs and inform everybody that I was coerced into joining their stunt. But Ricky just takes a step away from me and begins to pull his sweatshirt over his head. I watch with wide eyes as he yanks the thing over his head, leaving him in his t-shirt. Then, as casually as ever, he extends the item of clothing out to me. "Here."
I stare at it in shock. "This is your hoodie." He nods. "You're giving me...your hoodie?"
Ricky's brows furrow. "You said you were cold?"
I blink rapidly. "So you're giving me your hoodie?"
"Yeah..."
"Okay, why?"
Ricky seems to have grown frustrated with my questions because he steps forward and just shoves my head through the head hole. Then he takes both my arms and slides them in until his hoodie hangs off my body. He smiles, tapping a single finger on my nose gently. "Adorable," he compliments mockingly.
He moves to the door, but I quickly grab his wrist, causing him to turn back. "What will Nini think?" I ask quietly, trying hard not to think about Ricky's scent that's wafting off his hoodie and into my nostrils. He smells good if that wasn't clear enough.
Ricky raises an eyebrow. "Why would she care? She and I aren't dating."
I guess now is as good a time as any to tell Ricky that Nini saw that picture of us.
I frown slightly, feeling heat lap at my cheeks. "Well...she, kinda, sorta, maybe, saw the picture of us in face masks from yesterday. And...she didn't look happy about it."
I expect Ricky to yell at me, say I ruined his chance of getting back together with her. That it's all my fault that Nini doesn't feel the same about him anymore. Or even just for him to glare at me without saying anything. Possibly get red in the face.
But he doesn't.
He just shrugs. "Snooze you lose," he says simply, before pulling open the door to the basement and walking down the steps.
Snooze you lose?
What does that even mean?
Doesn't that only apply to when you win something?
Is he implying I won him over Nini?
Why are boys so damn confusing? Why can't he just say something normal and straight forward like I always do?
I huff, turning back to the counter and picking up Rico. "Your dad," I tell him softly, as I pull open the door to the basement, "is such an idiot." I trudge down the stairs, and immediately, Amy perks up. Before I even finish making it down the stairs, she's there waiting for me, cheesy grin on display.
"Cute sweater," she compliments, but I know she doesn't actually mean it.
"Don't," I hiss, placing Rico down on an empty table. "I am not going to talk about you-know-who with you when he's in the same room."
"But—"
"Nope."
"It must mean something—"
"Nuh-uh."
"If you'd just accept—"
"Stop," I glare at Amy.
Amy huffs. "Fine. Did you do something different to your hair? It's cute."
I frown, picking up a strand of my hair. My waved hair. My waved hair that I got from the braid I slept with last night. The braid that Ricky did for me in our mini slumber party. I don't say anything to Amy, which I think says way more than I intended it to because suddenly she's grinning at me, before skipping away to join the group.
Did Ricky give me his hoodie mean something? Now she has my questioning it, great.
"Mars." I snap out of my thoughts, brought back to reality by the sound of Ricky's voice. He stands at the front of the group, waving me over with a slight smile. I walk over to him, and he directs me to stand beside him. "So, you're standing here, then Gina..."
.·゜゜· ·゜゜·．
I think I'm high.
But like, not on drugs, on adrenaline.
I think I'm bouncing right now, and usually, Ben would be annoyed by me, but even he can't find it in him to be irritated with the way I'm excited right now. He's just smiling as I bounce up the path to our house, while the beams down on us.
So here's what happened. We stayed the night at Big Red's house. Not exactly my ideal first sleepover, but it's okay because it's not like we slept. Okay, maybe I did fall asleep for like an hour, but that was a total accident. We worked all night on our performance for the meeting later, and when I mean all night, I mean I'm literally doing the walk of shame home right now to change my clothes then go straight back to school. Thankfully, my mom was away for work when this needed to happen, because it was much easier convincing my dad to let me and Ben stay the night without her pestering in the background.
Fun fact, my dad and Big Red's dad are friends. Small town perks, I guess.
"Alright," Ben snickered, his hands gripping my shoulders. "Save the energy for later."
"And what's later?" I know that cynical voice.
I whip around to see my mother at the table, a mug on the table in front of her, and a tablet beside it. Her suitcase is still beside the door, which was enough indication that she's been here long enough to make coffee, but not long enough to unpack her bag. Great, exactly what I needed was an argument with my mother.
I glance at Ben, hoping to see him take this one, but he diverts his eyes. Cool. What's the point of being the oldest if you can't even get your younger brother to take the fall for you?
"School board meeting for our drama teacher," I mumble, pointing between myself and Ben. I step further into the house, hoping that the answer was enough, but of course, she has more questions.
"School board meeting? What'd she do to cause that?"
"Nothing," I answer defensively, instantly causing Ben to nudge me. When I glance over to him, he shakes his head slightly, his way of saying I need to watch it. I know he's right, we're probably already on thin ice because we slept over somewhere when she wasn't here, but I can't help it. All she's done since I told her about my involvement in the drama club is talk badly about it, and I haven't been able to say anything about it. I'm reaching my breaking point, I can feel it.
Ben clears his throat, clearly sensing my impending explosion from the way I tensed up. "We need to change and go to school," he rushes out, before pushing me forward. I let out a sigh when we reach the top of the stairs, whirling back to face Ben. "You need to stop," he warns. "You're gonna get us in serious trouble."
I nod in agreement. "I know, sorry. I just..."
"I get it," he says, giving a sad smile. "It's mom, I know she brings out the worst in you. Just...try to keep a hold on it for now? Then you can unload it all on your emotional support person." Ricky. "Ricky," he finishes.
I know it's true, but I still roll my eyes at Ben's words. I slip past him and go into my bedroom, immediately going to my closet. I make quick work of picking out my outfit, all too aware of my limited time. I can't believe I'm going to school without showering, what kind of monster am I? I don't dwell on the thought for too long, my fingers going to pull the hoodie over my head. Then I pause.
I'm wearing a hoodie.
Ricky's hoodie.
My mom saw me walk into my house early in the morning wearing a guy's hoodie.
I'm dead.
Maybe she didn't even notice? Or maybe she just assumed it was Ben's. I mean, it's not like she knows every single article of clothing we own. Right? I mean, I don't even know every single article of clothing I own. This hoodie could easily be mine and Ricky gave it back to me. Am I right? That'd be funny. Oh my god, what am I doing?
"So." I flinch at the voice, and I quickly pull the rest of my shirt down to see my mom at my bedroom door. Her gaze is settled on the discarded hoodie, and she turns to me with an eyebrow raised. "Whose is that? Because I know it's not yours."
"It could be," I rush out.
She shoots me a look. "It's not."
Why can't I be good at lying?
"It's Ricky's," I admit bashfully, crossing the room to my dresser. Let's hope this perfume masks my haven't-showered-since-yesterday smell. I can see from the mirror that my mom is stepping further into my room, examining her surroundings like she's never been in here before. Oh, right, she hasn't been in here in a long time. Too busy hating me from a distance or traveling for her cases.
"So, that's where you were all night?" I lock eyes with her through the mirror. "With Ricky?"
"With the whole drama department," I correct, and she raises an eyebrow. "We were coming up with a plan to save our drama teacher."
She chuckles. "Save her? If she got herself in this situation, she isn't worth saving."
I frown. "You don't know her."
"And you do?" My mom shoots back.
I put my perfume back down, before turning around. "I do, actually," I retort, crossing my arms over my chest as my brows furrow. Did she come in here just to start a fight with me? It seems that was her intention because she mimics my stance; this is a declaration of war if I've ever seen one. "She's a good teacher," I emphasize.
"No good teacher would get a school board meeting called on them."
"Do you even know her name?" I shoot back. My mom's eyes narrow, and that's enough of an answer to my question. "Why do you think you can judge my teacher's teaching when you don't even know her name? How is that fair, Miss Lawyer?"
"Watch your tone, Maritza," My mom hisses.
I'm going too far, I should reel this back before this turns really bad.
I let out a shaky exhale. "Look, Mom, I believe in this cause, so I'm fighting for it. Isn't that what you always taught us to do?" Her features soften, but only slightly. "I...I have to go to school, now." Somehow, someway, I manage to leave my mom speechless as I leave the room.
I meet Ben in the hallway, who glances into my room with evident confusion. I shake my head, my way of saying not to ask, before going downstairs. I'll deal with this later, but right now, I've got something else to deal with.
.·゜゜· ·゜゜·．
"Have I mentioned I'm terrified?"
"Only three times."
"Oh...well, I am."
Ricky shoots me a look. "Mars, you got this."
I shake my head. "You don't know that."
"I do."
"You don't."
Ricky rolls his eyes, and before I know it, I'm being dragged away from the double doors leading into the cafeteria and to a secluded corner. I watch Ricky with wide eyes as he cups my cheeks, forcing me to meet his eyes. Not to be dramatic or anything, but I think I'm going to collapse right now.
"Maritza," he says slowly, eyes boring into mine. "I saw you do this with Amy before, so now I'm trying it." With that, Ricky's head lowers until we're practically nose to nose, and I can't breathe. Just kidding. Sort of. "Repeat after me: I'm going to kick ass."
I frown at his words, but Ricky says nothing else, just stares at me. So I sigh, and quietly repeat, "I'm going to kick ass."
"Louder, Mars."
"I'm going to kick ass," I say.
"Louder."
"I'm going to kick ass."
"Not loud enough," Ricky presses.
"I'm going to kick ass!" I raise my voice to a shout, and instantly, Ricky is pulling away from me. I smile slightly, cheeks flushed as I tuck my hair behind my ear. "Sorry," I mumble.
He shakes his head, a smile of his own resting on his lips. "Don't apologize. You're gonna kick ass." Then he extends a hand out to me, and with no hesitance, I take it. "Now, let's go kick ass together." I nod quickly, and with that, Ricky leads me into the cafeteria by my hand.
We settle into our seats, and thus, the drama begins.
Blah, blah, blah, Miss Jenn is eccentric, they don't understand it. Blah, blah, blah, she lied on her resume, but really, who hasn't? Personally, I think this trial isn't fair, she's literally being questioned by a bunch of idiots who obviously never did drama, and she doesn't even have anyone to represent her case beside herself.
Wow, I really am the daughter of a lawyer, aren't I?
"Excuse me." My eyes widen as I watch Ricky's dad stands from the crowd of parents. I glance over at Ricky in shock, and he looks back at me, equally as surprised. "Can I say something?"
"I'm sorry. We're not opening up the floor to parents on this." Buzzkill.
"Let him speak!" Non-buzzkill.
"Go ahead, Mr.Bowen," Mr.Gutierrez allows reluctantly.
"I'm a little late to this party, but I gotta say the real crime here would be booting a teacher who's making a positive impact. I've never seen my kid this invested in anything, and I don't think that's something we should punish, your...honor."
I can't help the smile that tugs at my lips. I glance over at Ricky as his dad settles down, and he's trying his hardest to hide a smile as well. Thanks, Mr.Bowen, because you're making this transition into our little thing a lot easier.
Or not.
To my surprise, the next person to voice their opinion was a familiar face. A very familiar face. My breath hitched as my mother's voice broke the silence, the woman standing to her feet exuding confidence and authority as she always did. I looked to Ricky on my right immediately, and his eyes quickly met mine, and without a word, he placed his hand atop of mine that rested between us and gave it a gentle squeeze.
"My daughter," she says, "joined the drama department's production, and it just seems like an unnecessary responsibility to be added to these kid's shoulders, especially if the teacher is unqualified for the position and is no way prepared to teach these kids anything real."
And there it is. Exactly what I expected to hear her say. She's never said anything that was in support of me, and I shouldn't have expected her to start now. I mean, what did I think? That she'd actually listen to what I had to say this morning? That she'd be happy that I found something I enjoy? That she'd act like my mom for once rather than my dictator? It was all too good to be true.
I didn't even want to look at the rest of the drama department, because there was no doubt that the woman putting a damper on everything was my mom.
But I did turn to Ricky, and he was already looking at me. I think he can tell my mood had been dragged down, but nothing could be done about that now. After all, the show must go on.
God, I hate myself for that.
I force a smile for Ricky, giving his hand a squeeze back before turning back to the front as humming breaks the silence of the room. Remember, Maritza, you are going to kick ass. You're doing this not only to prove to the school board that Miss Jenn belongs here but to also prove to your mom that you belong here.
You belong with the drama department, Maritza.
With that thought, I spring to my feet, joining in with the harmonized humming. I can feel my mom's eyes burning into me, neither in anger or disappointment, just...shock. But she isn't going to make me mess this up, I won't let her get to me this time.
This has to save Miss Jenn.
.·゜゜· ·゜゜·．
It worked.
It actually worked.
You know, I had my doubts about staying up all night with the cast and crew to choreograph this flash mob, but I'm gonna pretend I didn't. Because it worked. Miss Jenn is saved, the show is saved, everything is great.
I jumped when a hand rested on my lower back, and I quickly whipped around to see Ricky's grinning face. Too consumed by excitement, I threw my arms around him. Well, actually, I didn't. See, Ricky is six feet, and I'm just past five feet, so me wrapping my arms around his neck? Very hard to do. But it was made slightly easier when I was lifted off the ground just high enough to wrap my arms around him. I was grinning when Ricky put me back down, his smiling face staring right back at me.
Then his smile slowly faded, causing mine to falter as well. "Your mom is coming this way," he whispered, hands sliding down from my waist to my hips. "Should I try to snatch you and run away now, or...?"
I sighed, shaking my head. "I appreciate the offer but she'd definitely catch you." Ricky's frown deepened. "Don't worry about me, I've got this."
I don't got this.
When Ricky pulled away from me, I suddenly realized I no longer had a human shield to face the wrath of my mother. Not that I was gonna use Ricky as such, but the thought that it was an option was certainly comforting. By the time I turned around, she was already standing there, her arms crossed and her lips pursed as she stared at me with an expression I can only describe as a mix between disappointment and indifference.
"Congratulations," she starts, eyebrows raising as she looked me over. "I guess you can continue your little drama thing."
I had so much I wanted to say to that, so many snarky remarks I'd bark back if it were anybody but my mother. But I can't exactly say that. So instead, I ask, "Why did you do that?" My mom's raised eyebrows lowered to a furrow, head tilting with mild confusion. "I told you this morning what we were doing because I...I thought you'd want to support me in this, and instead, you came to try and derail it?"
My mom let out a sigh. "You don't understand, Maritza..."
"No, I don't," I speak again, feeling the familiar pounding in my head as I fight back tears for what felt like the millionth time in front of this woman. "I don't understand why you never support me in anything. Everything I do for the family and for school, you just pretend it doesn't exist. I do the twins' homework for them, I tutor Ben in science, I'm helping put on a musical production for school, and I'm on the shortlist for valedictorian for next year. Why is that not enough for you?"
I'm well aware that people are looking at us now, and for the first time in my entire life, I don't care if people are watching me. Because I'm doing something I need to do, saying things I need to say, and if I don't say it now, I never will.
My mom, however, was not as happy about people looking our way. "I suggest you lower your voice right now, Maritza," she whispered harshly.
"Or maybe I need to speak louder for you to finally hear me?" A tear finally managed to slip out, sliding down my cheek and setting a trail for the rest to follow. "All I'm asking is for you to acknowledge me for once. To act like I'm there. To be my mom. Is that so much to ask for?"
She didn't say anything, so I guess that's my answer to the question. It is too much to ask for her to care about me. How surprising. I don't know why I expected anything else. But I do know I can't stand here for much longer or I'll be crying in front of the entire school board, and a majority of the drama department.
Turning on my heel, I quickly leave my mom behind and escape to the hallway. I finally stop once I'm far enough away from everybody and allow the sob that's been stuck in my throat to escape. I can't believe I'm crying in school again. I thought I'd finally be happy that I was able to stand up to my mom and say everything I've ever wanted to say to her, and instead, I'm crying about it.
I couldn't hear anything over my own crying, so it wasn't a surprise that I didn't hear when somebody else joined me in the hall. Arms wrapped around me suddenly, and I immediately recognized the familiar musk of my younger brother. Reluctantly, I returned his embrace, my head settled into his shoulder as I shook with cries. Then another pair of arms wrapped me, and my nostrils were invaded by the scent of Amy's perfume. Then another pair of arms, and this time I raised my head to see who the person was. Ricky was the third person to wrap his arms around me, and following him was Nini. Then Big Red. Kourtney. Ashlyn. Carlos. Seb. Until finally I was trapped in the center of a drama department group hug, tears continuously streaming down my cheeks.
Not a word was said, nothing had to be said.
Maybe my mom doesn't see me, but they do.
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