Mi Amor - Oscar 'Spooky' Diaz/On my block Story

19

Elly's view

The party was loud, full of energy, but it felt like I was in a bubble, completely removed from the chaos. Ruby had grabbed the mic, hyping up the crowd, but I barely heard a word. My mind was stuck on everything that had happened, on Oscar, on Flavio. I felt my stomach twist every time someone cheered for Spooky. The sound of his name made my blood boil. The very person who'd just beaten someone unconscious was being celebrated like a hero.

Ruby's voice broke through, though I didn't really care about what he was saying. He was trying to be funny, and judging by the crowd's reaction, he was doing well. They laughed, clapped, all while I stood there, feeling like I was suffocating in my own anger. I couldn't even force a smile.

Then Oscar leaned in close, his breath warm against my ear, whispering something that made my skin crawl.

Oscar: "You see, there are also people who are grateful for what I do for them."

I shot him a look—are you serious right now? I couldn't believe he had the nerve to even say that to me. My mind screamed a million things I wanted to shout back at him, but I stayed quiet, fuming inside.

Ruby kept going, rapping now. He was surprisingly good, but I couldn't focus on him either. All I could think about was what had just happened, and how everything seemed to be spiraling. The night had gone from bad to worse, and now it felt like we were just waiting for the next disaster to hit.

Ruby's rap — whether he meant to or not — lit a fuse. His lyrics stirred something in the crowd, igniting their buried tensions with the Prophets. One line after another hit the right nerve, and before long, the mood shifted. People started heading out, energy crackling with a dangerous edge. They were on their way to Prophet territory, ready to stir up trouble and end the fragile truce.

Soon, it was just Oscar, and me, left standing in the garden. I should've left, but somehow, I stayed rooted to the spot.

It was the first time we'd been truly alone since I left Freeridge. The air between us felt charged, like something was about to break.

Elly: "Shouldn't you go with them? I saw tonight how much you enjoy doing... things like that."

Oscar's eyes darkened at my words, but he kept his voice calm, almost too calm.

Oscar: "I don't like it. But I do what has to be done. And since they left you here, I'll give you a ride home, mi amor."

I snorted at his audacity. I didn't need him to take me anywhere.

Elly: "No thanks. I can walk on my own. And don't call me like that anymore."

Oscar stepped closer, his voice low and firm.

Oscar: "So you go back to check on this guy, end up getting shot by a Prophet? No thanks, mi amor. And I'll call you whatever I want."

I felt his hand on my back, gently pushing me toward his car. I didn't resist—not because I wanted to go, but because it was useless. Oscar always got his way, every damn time.

The drive was silent. I stared out the window, refusing to look at him. But in the reflection, I watched him. His jaw was clenched, his eyes straight ahead. The tension between us was thick, suffocating.

Oscar: "What's wrong?"

I rolled my eyes. Did he seriously have to ask?

Elly: "Better ask what's not wrong. That answer would be shorter."

Oscar: "Is it because I beat up that guy?"

I snapped.

Elly: "Of course it is! What the hell were you thinking?"

Oscar: "He had it coming, Elly. He knew what he was getting into. Flirting with you, trying to take you home. Idiot really thought I'd just let that happen."

He chuckled, as if the whole thing was a joke. My hands tightened into fists in my lap.

Elly: "Why the hell didn't you let it happen? We're not together anymore. You made that choice, remember?"

He slammed the brakes, and we stopped in front of my house. I could feel his anger radiating off him in waves.

Elly: "What is this? Some kind of twisted honor thing? No one can touch me because we were together once? Or is it jealousy? Do you not want me to be happy?"

Oscar's voice was tight, low.

Oscar: "Keep your voice down. Your parents will hear."

I scoffed, leaning my head against the seat in frustration. I'd never understand him.

Elly: "You don't care about anything but yourself."

I tried to open the door, but Oscar reached over, slamming it shut again before I could get out. I sighed, feeling trapped—physically and emotionally.

Elly: "Is this how it's gonna be until I leave for college? You just doing whatever you can to keep me down?"

Oscar's face shifted, the anger replaced by something softer. For a second, I thought I saw hurt in his eyes.

Oscar: "Who says you'll ever get rid of me, Elly? I could still fuck up your life at college if I wanted."

He chuckled, but I wasn't laughing. My heart clenched at his words. How had it come to this?

Elly: "You're doing a damn good job already."

His expression changed again, the bravado slipping. He looked almost... defeated. He opened my door, his voice low and raw.

Oscar: "You should go."

I hesitated, confused by the sudden shift.

Elly: "Why now?"

Oscar: "It's not safe. The Prophets could come for me any minute. And I don't want to fuck up your life any more than I already have."

The words hit me hard. There was real pain behind them.

I stepped out of the car, my heart heavy.

Elly: "I didn't mean it like that."

Oscar's voice was tight, barely holding it together.

Oscar: "Doesn't matter. It's true. I fuck up everything I touch. That's why I've been staying away from you. Maybe now you understand."

Before I could say anything else, he drove off, leaving me standing there, more confused than ever.

Inside, I tried to act normal. I told my parents about my phone, careful to leave out the part where Oscar shattered it into pieces. My dad gave me one of his old ones, and later, I called the police station anonymously to check on Flavio.

When I heard he was in the hospital, I was relieved. But the weight of the night sat heavy on me, long after I hung up.

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