De Todas Las Cosas Buenas: Usnavi X Mexican-American!Reader

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       "C'mon, Y/N!" Whined F/N. She pulled on my arm as I quickly grabbed onto my luggage and walked out the door, her hand still on my arm. 

       I sighed. "It's not like we're gonna miss the plane. Plus, you still need to convince Rosie that leaving her friends from preschool is a good idea." Rosie—F/N's daughter. Four years ago, F/N decided it was a good idea to sleep with a complete jerk who got her pregnant and then left her. Since then, F/N has been living with me since her parents kicked her out of the house. Yes, we are the same age, but she lived in her parents' basement after she graduated high school. 

       Rosie ran out of her room and clutched my legs tightly. She looked up at me with those big green eyes that were slightly glossy due to her crying. "I don't want to go, Auntie Y/N."

       "We don't have a choice, Rosie." I crouched down to her height. My hand pushed a strand of hair away from her face and behind her ear. "Don't worry, you'll make new friends wherever we move and I'll let you talk to your friends from preschool on my phone everyday."

       "You promise?" She sniffled. 

       "I promise."

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       The sun burned my already tan skin as me and F/N carried out belongings into the apartment. It is a pain in the ass moving and it is an even bigger pain when you have to move your stuff from a plane into a U-Haul and inside your new home. Like I said: pain in the ass.

       As I walked down the stairs that led to the floor level, I noticed a lady inside a salon looking at me with a raised eyebrow—inspecting my every move. She had orange-red hair and a look that could kill. A girl seemingly younger than her stood at the doorway of the salon, looking at me with less intensity than the other one, but still judgy, nonetheless.

       F/N walked towards me and followed my line of view. She hummed in response to how they were staring at us. "Only thirty minutes of living here and we already have people who don't like us. I think that's a record."

       "Ay, callate la boca. All that's going on is that they don't know who we are and we need to meet them before something terrible happens." I told her. "Now hurry up and get everything inside so we can unpack. Andale." I shooed her towards the U-Haul.

       It took us the entire day to bring everything inside and to unpack since no one bothered to help us out. A man with dark skin asked us if he could do anything to help, but the girl he was with scolded him, so he walked away. It's nice to know what type of neighborhood we live in. Washington Heights. It can't get as bad is already has, right?