Camilo Madrigal

Coffee Kid

You lightly smiled. Maybe Bruno really wasn't that bad. Maybe you had been stereotyping him based off of what you saw when you were barely five years old.
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After finishing your delicious breakfast made by your tía, you put on some nice sandals and head into town. You normally start off with babysitting, something that your gift allows you to do. It always made you feel good helping people. Whenever a mother was tired and needed some rest, they could forever count on you to shape shift into them and take care of their child.

Greeting everyone you see, you begin walking towards a mother, who you noticed looked exhausted. You break into a slight jog, still facing towards her, "Can I help you ma'am?"

"Oh, could you? That's so nice," she replies.

"No problem! What time you do think you'll be back?"

"Probably around noon, thanks again Camilo!" It was now about 10 in the morning.

You smile, looking down at her daughter, Cecelia. You ask, "D'you want me to change into your mama or are you fine with me not changing."

"I don't care," she answers. After a long moment of awkward silence Cecelia randomly asks, "Can you please tell me about your family?"

Surprised, you promise, "Sure, what do you want to know?"

"Why didn't Mirabel get a gift?"

I was not expecting that, you think, "No one knows, not even abuela, or even Casita."

"Hmm," she says, "How can we find out?"

"I don't know, it's not like Mirabel's here. She herself probably wouldn't know either, though."

"Yeah she is, Mirabel is here," she says, pointing to a girl with short, curly hair and light green glasses tightly grasping onto her bag.

You blink your eyes exaggeratedly a few times, "Mirabel!"

She turns around, "Hey, Camilo..."

"Are you okay? You seem uneasy."You ask.

"I'm fine, just really....tired,"

You raise an eyebrow, should I ask her what's bothering her now, or later. You remember that you're in charge of a little one, and decide not to, "If you say so, but don't expect me to leave you alone."

Mirabel quickly walks away, and Cecelia taps your arm, "Can I ask her?"

"Not right now, but maybe later or tomorrow,"

She groans, "Can you at least try to answer?"

"I already said, I don't know,"

After lots of convincing, and telling Cecelia you don't know (which you don't), she finally lets the question go. A million questions flooded your brain. What's going on with Mirabel? Is she okay? How come everyone is expecting to be perfect? Who am I?

You must've zoned out for a second, because now you were surrounded by kids, which you didn't mind.

"Tell us a story!" One of them shouted.

"Yeah," another yelled.

"Okay, okay!" You began, "What should it be about?"

"The Madrigals!" One yelps.

"No he always does that,"

A few more suggestions get shouted out. Still waiting for the perfect story idea, one of the kids shout, "Bruno!"

They all go silent, turning towards a boy with a mug full of coffee in his hands.