Cholo

(26) Veintiséis

SEASON 3:

Being on maternity leave means I have 12 weeks of grasping onto my sanity. The lack of sleep was evident on my face; there were bags under my eyes, my movements were slow and I stopped making sense of what's going on around me. It had been two days since my release, and I spent one night at Oscar's. I couldn't sleep that night because of Mateo's crying.

It was difficult because I didn't know if he was hungry, or needs to burp, or scared, and do I change his diaper every hour or should I wait for it to smell? I didn't know what I was doing, or how to care for a baby. There's no manual, and not even Siri could help you. We tried swaddling him, cradling and even patting his back to lull him to sleep - but nothing worked. I didn't want to call my abuelita at dawn, so I would find myself pacing the living room and softly singing a lullaby into his ears. We took shifts with carrying him and pacing. I didn't know when we slept, but I knew it wasn't enough.

I tossed to the other side, a groan leaving my lips at the sound of birds chirping. My eyebrows furrowed. My hand blindly touched the empty spot. I fluttered my eyes open, blinking repeatedly under the harsh sunlight. The spot beside me was empty, so I strained my ears to hear if he was showering. To my dismay there's no sound coming from the bathroom. He might be cooking. I sniffed the air. Nothing. I tossed to the other side and lay there watching Mateo. His chest ever so softly raising and falling. The birds chirping was mingled with the loud chatter of the Santos.

I tried shutting my eyes and going back to sleep, but the sound of chatter, music and distant sirens blaring and mingling alerted me of the fact that Mateo is still asleep - and I needed to shower.

I scrambled to my feet, and into the shower.

-    C     H    O    L     O      -

As I finished dressing, my phone began to ring. My eyes widened. I glanced at Mateo. Shit. I somehow threw myself on to the bed and at the same grabbed ahold of my phone. I don't know how I did that - but I wish I hadn't. I think I cracked a bone.

"Hello?" I whispered.

"Why are you whispering, chica [girl]?" Jada whispered back.

"I don't want to wake him." I kept on glancing in Mateó's direction.

"Oscar?" She asked in a confused tone.

"No!" I shouted, before clapping a hand onto my lip. Shit. "Mateo." Farcically, I replied. Glancing at the baby.

"That pequeño bribón [little rascal]!" Jada laughed.

"Yeah, laugh. You don't have to go through the pacing and lullaby's." I rolled my eyes. "Oh, ¡No chingues! [fuck me] I even forgot all those fucking lullaby's so I started signings Sunflower!"

Jada's laughter bombed.

"I swear I would pay anything to get a good night sleep." I sighed.

"Your abuelita told you to move back home with her. And I even said I'll sleep over." She pointed out.

"Yeah, but I don't want to sleep at hers." I whined.

"You could move into your home." I chewed my bottom lip. Pondering the idea. I could have a separate room for Mateó, and good god, a quiet space.

"¡Oye! [hey!]" My best friend raised her voice to catch my attention.

"Uh, Jada, you wanna sleepover?"

"At Oscar's?" I could picture her scrunched up her nose as she said in somewhat disgusted tone, "no!"

"Tarado [idiot]," I rolled my eyes, "I meant my house."

I could hear rustling as Jada moved about. She breathed. "Not having sex is killing you, huh?"

I scoffed. "No- I, ugh, yeah."

She laughed. "Look, talk to your cholo about it and I'll meet you at yours, ok?"

"You're gonna flirt with a guy, aren't you?" I smiled at my friend.

"Yes. I love you, bye!"

The line died.

-      C     H   O     L   O   -

By nightfall, I was fully packed and ready to head home. That sounds like something a dumbass protagonist would say, all homesick and shit - not me, though. I am not that protagonist. Am, I? 

I glared at the suitcase. 

Smoothing out the imaginary wrinkles on my shirt. I'm not that protagonist.

 Shaking my head, I snapped out of my musing. 

"I'm not." I whispered, as I hurriedly left the room. Being alone with my thoughts isn't really a good thing,  not when I'm doubting my abilities as a mother, and especially not when my hormones are taking a rollercoaster ride. 

"Hey, she didn't tell you.. " My steps slowed as I reached the living room. I stopped completely listening to Cesar's question.  "did she?" 

Tentatively, I walked into the room. Oscar was leaning against the TV, sipping beer and Cesar sat on the couch staring intently at the table. My eyes shifted between the brothers, narrowing slight at Oscar. 

Who the fuck were they talking about?

"You ready?" 

I nodded. 

He chugged down the remainder of his drink. 

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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.