CHILDHOOD ❥ ON MY BLOCK [OSCAR DIAZ]

❸❷

❸❷

Marisol softly exhaled the smoke, sniffling as she zipped her jacket up tighter. The girl bent down, rubbing the end of the joint against the pavement as someone approached her from the other side of the street.

"Hey," she smiled, standing up straight.

Cesar nodded towards her, his face pulled into a tight grin, "What's up?"

"What are you doing out here?" Marisol questioned, looking around, "Aren't you supposed to be like, hiding?"

Cesar pulled his hood over his head, "Yeah, I came by to talk to Oscar again."

"And?" Marisol crossed her arms over her chest, tapping her foot against the ground. Cesar gave her a look before shaking his head, no. Marisol let out a sigh, running a hand through her hair.

"You hungry?" She asked, tilting her head.

Cesar simply shrugged, shoving his cold hands into hid pockets, "I guess."

"Come on," Marisol gestured for him to follow her, turning around to walk back to her house.

"You don't have to," Cesar reminded, beginning to feel guilty, like he was bothering her.

Marisol placed an arm over his shoulder, bringing him in close, "It's your birthday! The very least I can do is feed you."

✞

Marisol closed her menu, sliding it towards the middle of the table as Cesar sat across from her.

A waitress with dark auburn hair quickly came over to the two, smiling, "You guys ready to order?"

Marisol nodded, "Yeah, can I have the deluxe burger with fries and onion rings?"

The waitress wrote down the order on her yellow pad, looking over to the boy, "And for you?"

"I'll have the same," Cesar grinned, passing over the menus. The waitress took them, saying a quiet "okay," before leaving them be.

"Isn't that a little much for you?" Cesar questioned, referring to the order.

Marisol shrugged, playing with the straw inside of her soda, "I have the munchies." She glanced up at the boy from her seat, watching as he began to daze off.

She sighed, "So, what happened with Oscar?"

Cesar cleared his throat, sitting up, "Same thing as last time, there's nothing he can do."

"That's bullshit," Marisol shook her head.

"No, he's right, it's not really up to him at this point. Cuchillos decides."

The older girl leaned forward, her eyes narrowing, "Who even is Cuchillos?"

"An OG Santo, runs the operation basically." Marisol rolled her eyes, she would never understand the function of gangs. The two continued to sit in silence until Cesar decided to speak up.

"How's Monse?"

"Sad," Marisol took a sip of her soda.

Cesar let out a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing, "You understand why I haven't contacted her, right?"

"Yeah, yeah, you're trying to protect her," Marisol nodded her head, "but letting her think you're dead isn't the way to go about it."

"I don't know what else to do," Cesar began to worry, "If I contact her, all she can focus on is helping me. If I don't, she's upset." Marisol didn't reply, not knowing how to come up with an answer for the boy.

Cesar placed his arms on the table, leaning forward, "What did you do?"

"What do you mean?" Marisol chuckled, her straw turning the ice cubes in her cup.

"With Oscar," Cesar said, "what did you do?"

Marisol's eyes darted up at Cesar, staring. She had never been asked that question before, how she reacted to Oscar joining the Santos.

The girl leaned into the booth behind her, "Nothing." When confusion showed up the boy's face, Marisol decided to explain further. "There was nothing I really could do. Oscar didn't fight being a Santo. He didn't disobey, he didn't run. He was jumped in and that was that, he knew there was no other way around it. So, there was nothing I could say or do to change his mind."

Cesar simply nodded his head, thinking back to the tome when he was younger.

"Your brother's a good person," Marisol continued, "he's loyal, sometimes too much. But, he's also stubborn. No matter how much I tried to tell him being a Santo wasn't everything he could be, he didn't listen. So, I just stopped trying to make him listen."

"You're different from Oscar. You have more opportunities than we ever did back then. You have your friends, my sister. You know you do have a choice, right?"

"No many these days," Cesar's eyes began to gloss, like he was on the verge of tears.

Marisol shook her head, "No, you do. You just don't want to choose the hard one."