Cholo

(1) Uno

I pushed and shoved my way through the buzzing campus. My eyes twitching from my watch to the bricked building. Oh, god. I'm late... I'm late.. I tapped the watch with my index finger as if by some miracle I could stop time. If only I was gifted with magic, I would've "poofed" myself a degree. My ponytail swished from left to right, as I nervously chewed on my bottom lip. How can you sleep through a final, puta [whore]?! 

"Excuse me!" I shouted, nudging my way through a throng of sorority boys. "Oye! Watch it!" I gritted my teeth in pain as one (Hijo de puta [son of a bitch]) of them stepped on my feet. Seriously, I might be short but you can still see me! The boy paid me no mind as he chattered away with his friends.

"I swear if I wasn't late this pendejo [asshole] would've gotten a nose bleed," I mumbled to myself, following it with a string of curses that my Abuela would've cleaned my mouth out with soap. Then she would probably pour some bleach to make sure it's extra-extra clean.

Briskly, I entered the bricked building, or otherwise known as Building 'A'. Hallelujah! I rushed into the first classroom on the right. Slamming the door shut, I smiled sheepishly at my Professor. A man in his late fifties, looked up from a pile of papers, pointed at an empty seat, then returned to his papers.

I glanced down at the time. 'I only have thirty minutes..'

"Carajo [fuck]." 

-      C      H     O     L     O     -

I shaded in the answers, simultaneously while tapping my foot and eyes darting from the clock to the exam paper. I had only five minutes on the clock and two pages to go. I can't fail this shit! Think Chica [girl]! My stress was escalating as the professor started to count down the minutes. The pressure was raising, as fast as water boils. And my mind was beginning to throb.

"Jesus," I whispered under my breath. What is the term for a device used to take the place of a missing body part? Think. Think. Think. Is it A? No, it could be D?

My eyes skimmed through the page while tapping my pen on the letters. That's the easiest question of all and yet I'm stuck. I could feel my body heat up, and I was chewing onto my lips, nervously.

"Two!"

Oh god! oh god! The pressure increased, and my fingers begin to ache from holding the pencil so tightly. I screwed my eyes shut, hovered the pen above the letters and randomly chose the answer. Fuck it. I shaded the last question, a second before my professor loudly announced the end of the exam.

"Pens down. And leave."

Sighing, I picked up the paper and handed it in. That was the last time that I'd ever step into a lecture room, or even take an exam. I smiled at my accomplishment as a college graduate. My eyes lingered about the campus.

This would be my last day here as a student. And within a week, I'll be home.

My reverie was interrupted by the vibration in my pockets. I pulled out my phone and stared at the caller ID. Monse? My eyebrows furrowed in confusion; why would she call me? An unsettling feeling nestled in the midst of my stomach. This is not good.

"Hey, Monse is everything alright?" I smiled at a passing classmate and tried to maintain a positive outlook.

"Mia?" Monse's voice croaked. Is she crying? She couldn't be, she's one of the bravest girls I have ever met.

"Cariño estas bien [you okay sweetheart]?" My pace increased as the unsettling gut feeling twirled and turned.

"Mia, it's Caesar." My heart dropped. No, no, no, por favor Dios [please, god] he's not dead. I stood still, a gobsmacked expression etched onto my face. My throat clenched. The moment seemed to go longer and Monse's silence stretched until she spoke again.

"He got jumped in."

I gulped and without a reply hung up. I wanted to yell at her, and tell her she was wrong, Oscar promised me. He can't break it. He's not even back. Why and how?

Without much thought, I dialed the only person left.

"Buenos días Preciosa [Good morning, beautiful] ." I could hear the smile in his voice, and all felt good - even if only for a spilt-second.

"Hey, Papi [dad]. I'm coming home."

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*Spanish is not one of the languages I speak, I know some phrases and such; but I was mainly using the internet and google translate- please notify me of any errors.*
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This is purely a fan fiction.

I do not own "On My Block" or any of it's characters all rights are reserved/belong to Netflix. The plot and story of the series belong to Jeremy Haft, Eddie Gonzalez, and Lauren Lungerich. Directed by Lauren Lungerich. As such all claims are reserved to Netflix, and those listed prior to this sentence.

I only own characters that do not appear on/part of the series.