I had made a mistake. A terrible, horrible, irreversible mistake.
I had laughed.
And now, Luis Miguel and his pack of reford hyenas thought they had won.
But I wasn’t that easy. They put through so much and thought I’d forgive them after a street concert? They were in for a shock.
So, I did what any self-respecting, still-holding-a-grudge girl would do. I ignored them.
Completely.
I turned around, hoisted the trash higher in my arms—ignoring the way my muscles scread in protest, and walked away like they had never burst into a full-blown musical number for .
The silence behind lasted all of three seconds.
Then...
"Wait, wait, wait, hold on—" Gonzalo was the first to get a grip.
I heard his hurried footsteps, followed by the distinct sound of soone tripping over nothing.
"Ow—damn it, Pedro, that was my foot!"
"Then move your damn foot, bro!"
I kept walking.
"María José!" Luis Miguel called dramatically, his voice filled with the kind of heartbreak only soone who had never actually suffered could achieve. "Don’t do this to us!"
I did not turn around.
Instead, I adjusted my grip on the trash and picked up my pace. Why the sudden change of heart anyway?
It was so strange that they suddenly decided to turn a new leaf. Oh, wait... What if this was a trap? A mischievous little ploy to further grate on my nerves?
"Oh, Dios mío, she’s actually ignoring us," Pedro whispered like this was so kind of scientific phenonon.
"She must still be mad." Rubén sounded genuinely concerned. "Maybe we should sing again."
"No, no, we’re already pushing our luck..."
"Or we could beg?" Gonzalo suggested.
I walked faster.
"We could cry?"
I walked even faster.
"We could..."
And then, suddenly...
My arms were empty.
The weight of the trash was gone.
I spun around just in ti to see Luis Miguel of all people clutching the disgusting garbage bag like it was a bag of gold.
I blinked.
Pedro had snatched the second bag before I could react, and Gonzalo was reaching for another.
"What...?"
"We’re helping," Luis Miguel declared proudly.
I stared at them. "You’re... what?"
"Helping," Pedro repeated, swinging the bag over his shoulder like so kind of heroic garbage warrior. "Like good, reford n."
"Reford?"I repeated, unable to keep the disbelief out of my voice.
"Yes." Rubén nodded. "We’re on our redemption arc now."
Gonzalo pumped his fist. "We are wholeso now."
I blinked. Slowly. "You bullied for weeks, no... years even."
They did all sorts back in High School to get my attention. At first, they did it nicely until they got tired of being nice and went all mischievous.
"We regret that deeply," Luis Miguel said solemnly.
"You stole my money."
"We have no defense for that."
"You forcefully kissed ."
Luis Miguel cleared his throat. "I would like to retroactively apologize and also offer to be slapped, if it helps."
I squinted at them. "You’re all full of shit."
"Which is why we’re now carrying shit," Gonzalo said wisely, lifting the trash bag.
I sighed and massaged my temples. This had to be a fever dream.
But hey, if they wanted to suffer, who was I to stop them?
I turned back around and started walking toward the disposal site. They might as well do my chores for .
"Are you serious?" Pedro asked.
"Very," I replied.
The boys groaned but trudged after , the stench of the trash growing stronger with the more we walked.
A mont of silence passed before...
"Not to be rude," Rubén began, in a tone that always ant he was about to be rude, "but on a side note, you look and sll like shit."
I stopped dead in my tracks. Did these idiots say they wanted redemption?!
Rubén blinked at . "What? I said not to be rude..."
Gonzalo smacked the back of his head. "Idiot!"
Rubén winced. "Ow! I was just saying—"
"I an, he’s not wrong," Pedro added, unhelpfully. "She has slled like this ever since she beca an Oga."
Another smack.
This ti, from Luis Miguel.
Pedro rubbed his arm. "Okay, fine, I take it back!"
Luis Miguel groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You two have exactly zero social skills."
"I had social skills," Gonzalo muttered. "Then I joined this group."
I folded my arms. "Are you all done insulting ?"
"No," Rubén started. "But we will stop."
Another smack.
"¡Por Dios! We’re apologizing!" Luis Miguel snapped.
I rolled my eyes and kept walking.
It wasn’t long before one of them spoke again.
"On a more serious note..." Pedro hesitated, shifting his grip on the garbage bag. "Your father is really wicked for making you throw out the trash yourself."
Gonzalo nodded. "Yeah. You’re still his daughter. That’s ssed up."
The agreent was almost unanimous.
Almost.
Because about two seconds later, all of them froze.
"...Wait," Rubén muttered. "Are we being an again?"
Luis Miguel smacked his forehead. "Dios mío, we suck at this."
Pedro gasped. "We do!"
"We’re sorry!" Gonzalo blurted.
I sighed heavily. "It wasn’t my father."
I needed to protect my family no matter what. I was still a De la Vega. A pureblood De la Vega and it was my job not to sully the noble na.
Especially not in front of commoners like Luis Miguel’s group.
They all stared at like I had just blurted the most absurd thing of the season.
I forced a smile. "I just wanted to learn so discipline, and see what it feels like to dispose of the garbage."
At first, there was a long-lasting silence before Luis Miguel snorted and Gonzalo choked on air.
Pedro’s face twisted like he had just eaten sothing rancid.
"Yeah, okay, that’s a lie," Rubén said bluntly.
"I..."
"No, no," Luis Miguel waved a hand, looking almost offended. "Try again. With honesty this ti."
I scowled. "It was my choice."
They all gave the look.
The unimpressed, absolutely-not-buying-it look.
"We might be dumb, but we are not blind, María José," Pedro said. "You’re covered in filth. And your face...."
He stopped.
I felt their stares drift to my bruises.
My stomach twisted.
"I fell."
"No, you didn’t."
I clenched my jaw.
"Tell us," Luis Miguel said, voice softer this ti. "We’ll beat the culprits for you."
Beat the culprit? Beat Rosa?
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