#spookysmujer

You were just an law-abiding citizen trying to get by in life. Unfortunate for you to be born in a town like Freeridge where the opportunities are limited but you’ve found a way to make do. A decent job, a small studio and occasional yoga class on the weekends. Peace of mind or something like that.

This isn’t how you foresaw your life at 25 but you get by and that’s a lot more than many can say so you were thankful and didn’t complain. 

It’s a Tuesday night and you’re mindlessly flipping through magazines and enjoying the night off. You decided to tidy up your small area when you stumbled across your high school yearbook, which distracted you from your intended cleaning. 

“Oh goodness.” You snicker to yourself, looking through and see the younger, foolish version of yourself. The many faces that you’ve seen come and go since high school. One of those faces sticking out to you, the one that sports a shaved head and teardrop tattoo below his eye.

Your mind wonders about him for a moment or two before flipping the pages.

Oscar had a long day and wanted to sleep the rest of the week away. Shit’s been constant and to come home to a half empty fridge, mess of a house and hermanito giving him attitude, pues, Oscar needs something to distract his mind. 

He’s fresh out of a steaming shower, at least he has that, with his towel resting on his hips and laying back in his bed. His thumb sliding up on his phone screen as he scrolls through instagram. If it’s a distraction he seeks then there isn’t anything better than seeing other’s making fools of themselves on the internet. 

There wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. But he does stumble upon a picture of green scenery. It’s a simple picture of an open field that a lot of people find themselves at.

He didn’t plan to linger until he realized the profile it belonged to. 

Oscar hesitates for a moment before clicking on your name. Your face suddenly appears, many different pictures of you do. Some food shots, some scenery, some family but he scrolls over to the pictures of you. The way your eye twinkles, how your smile is a bit lopsided but still wholesome. 

It’s been years, 7 years to be exact, since he’s really seen you. Sure, there have been moments he’s seen you. Sometimes passing by on the streets or at the bodega. But years since he’s really been in the same space as you. 

He smirks to himself as he scrolls to a picture from over a year ago. You’re in a nice little number, fabric on you like a second skin and mangonada drink in your hand. Oscar can’t deny feeling his manhood twitch upon seeing it. He clears his throat as he felt himself staring a little too long.

Oscar snaps out of it but doesn’t do so gracefully as his finger slips and hits his screen twice. A red heart appearing and making his own heart skip a beat. “Fuck.”

After your delayed cleaning is resumed, you cook and then do a ‘works’ unwind in the shower. Hair wash, shave, skin care and music to assist you in the feel good department. When you crawl in bed and notice the lone notification from that shaven head cholo, your heart skips a quick beat.

Your brows furrow as your mind ponders. The last time you spoke  with him seems like an eternity ago. When you open the notification, you are met with nothing. As if he didn’t like anything but you were certain that his name popped up with ‘liked your post’ before you unlocked your device.

“Hm…” You refresh your IG but again nothing pops up. It’s a moment later when you put two and two together. Was Oscar stalking your page and accidentally liked an old post of yours? That could be the only explanation for if it were your most recent post then for what reason would the like disappear or be taken back?

You’re guilty of going through other’s profiles and have committed the ‘old post’ like. It’s extremely embarrassing as no matter how quick you un-like it, the user will get a notification. Then you are branned as a fucking weirdo for looking at their old post. 

Instantly, a grin forms on your face and you laugh to yourself. You wonder what photo it was that he accidentally liked.

All thoughts of Oscar accidentally liking an old picture disappeared overnight. When you woke the next day, all you thought about was getting through your early morning shift. Despite having to haul ass out of your house by 5:30AM, being off by 3:00PM delivered happiness in the form of a sandia paleta covered in chamoy and chilito. 

When you thank the paletero and step away from the cart, you see a group of people walking up to it. Both your eyes and Oscar’s eyes widen instantly and you are stumped. You don’t move from your spot as the crowd departs around you. 

“Oscar Diaz.” You finally get out after nearly a minute of staring at him. 

He keeps his face as neutral as possible but there is no lying that his heart is hammering within his rib cage. Partially due the whole post thing and the fact that you are literally just as ethereal as he remembers. 

Oscar pursues his lips together, “Y/N, long time no see.”

The awkwardness is suffocating. But you smile and take a taste of your paleta, “Not so long though. I coulda sworn the last time we saw each other was last night?”

You see a tinge of red flare over his cheeks and he cranks his neck to regain his stoic persona. The color flushes from his face as he rolls his eyes and looks towards the paletero. You look back and laugh, once again meeting his eyes. 

“Which one was it?” You ask him and he shakes his head, stepping past you but at this point it became fun to poke at him. Though it’s not smart to poke the sleeping bear, Oscar had always been kind to you in school. That was a different man though, you remind yourself. 

“Dos, por favor.” Oscar says, handing the man $20, advising him to keep the change. 

The small act of kindness means a lot to the man, it makes you smile as well. When he gets handed the two mangonada paletas, he hands one to you. You look at it with a confused face. A small small at the corner of his mouth, “It was that one.”

Oscar walks off before you can say anything. 

You couldn’t be mad at the yummy treat though you needed to eat with a quickness and ultimately ended up with a brain freeze. And the sweet treats had you craving something salty, a short trip to the corner store would help that. 

As you mentally remind yourself to only get what you came for, you get out of your car to find the infamous red impala. You stop in your tracks when you see Oscar leaning on the hood, smoking a cigarette. 

He flicks it down when he sees you and lets out a puff of smoke.

“I’m not sure if I should be scared or not.” You call out, walking to stand close to him. He smirks and shrugs his shoulders, fiddling with a lighter. 

You look him up and down while he has his attention elsewhere. He’s filled out since you last saw him all these years ago. Course, you’ve seen him around but never truly got to see him.

Oscar clears his throat and nods towards the bodega, “The paletas make me crave those queso ruffles. What’s your excuse?” He tries to downplay the smile trying to break through. 

You chuckle and hit his arm, he leans away but moves over when you step besides him. There’s a comfortable silence for a moment before he moves away and leans in through his open window. He pulls out a big bag of ruffles, opens it and offers you some. 

The two of you lean against the car under the setting sun, it’s a sight for sore eyes. 

“You like mangonadas or just girls who do?” You speak up and burst out laughing. Doubling over and pressing your hands into your knees, it’s an ache in your tummy kind of laugh. 

Oscar knew you wouldn’t let him live it down. And for the most part, he didn’t mind. The next time a mangonada came up in conversation is after he took you to the beach a couple days after that fateful day.

He stirs in his sleep and moves to lay on his back. You maneuver yourself to fit into his side. Oscar’s eyes still closed but the corners of his lips curling up into a small smile as you stare up at him. You move up to kiss his cheek, “Mornin’.”

“Hmm, buenos días.” His hand rubs across your back. You could nearly fall asleep again. He leans to peck a kiss on your head as he groans, moving to get out of bed. You non-verbally complain as you admire the way his back muscles contort.

Oscar’s phone rings a moment later. Another huff falls from your lips as you were hoping to have him to yourself just a bit longer. You reach under your pillow to find the source of the buzzing as this man can never put his phone on the charger before getting into the bed.

With his toothbrush hanging out of his mouth, Oscar walks into the room quickly and reaches under the pillow to grab the phone. Without so much as a look your way, he walks back into your room’s bathroom. You don’t think much of it until it happens against at lunch.

He had business to attend to but he promised you lunch as one of your late birthday presents. Both of you equally are hard workers, so when your birthday came around at the beginning of the week and you were both busy with work, he told you you’d celebrate this weekend with a barbecue tomorrow at Geny Martinez’s house.

The best brisket in town and you two showed up at a busy time. Oscar had just finished ordering and sat besides you when his phone chimed. You were never one to try snoop on his phone, but when he swiped it up quickly and then placed his phone with the screen down. You begin to wonder. 

Is it happening again?

“They had the churro shakes too. Es bueno.” He says rubbing his hands together. You quirk a smile and let your hand rest on his thigh. You sigh as he looks over the menu, admiring the different items. Meanwhile you mind begins to spin.

The two of you began dating a little over a year ago. Long time friends but something had changed and you suddenly found yourself with him almost everyday. It started off as simply mundane things. Dropping off your abuela’s pozole. Asking him to take a look under you car’s hood. He even taught you a few things by watching him work on his car. 

Then came dates, sleepovers, intimacy. You two were together before putting a label on it. Nearly 3 ½ months of hanging out together before calling each other boyfriend and girlfriend. A big part of that had to do with your hesitation to commit to someone again.

Last time you did that, you got played dirty. And after all that, you swore you wouldn’t let that happen again. But Oscar somehow got you to take the chance with him.

It still lingers in the back of your mind. Being cheated on feels so defeating. It makes you question yourself; Was I not enough? Did I do something wrong? It becomes mind eating the longer you stay. Problem for you was it took 5 months to realize it was happening. 

However, after finding out and your ex-boyfriend finally confirmed it, you realized you noticed. He always tended to hide his phone. Logically you figured it stemmed from having a big family and little privacy. You were the same, you loved your private moments. But you noticed he started doing it often. Now the same with Oscar.

“Y/N, babe.” Oscar’s voice pulls you from your thoughts. You blink and look at him, noticing that your brisket sandwiches are in front of you. You smile and thank him, turning your mind off to enjoy the sandwich. 

Your eyes fall to his phone every now and then. It had to be your mind playing tricks. Trauma will always be there to remind you. “Can you grab me some napkins babe?”

Oscar doesn’t answer as he stands mid-chew. When he is halfway to the napkin dispenser you grab his phone and flip it over to see a text message from an unsaved number. 

See u tonight.

Your heart skips and you hurry to place his phone as it was. You scratch the back of your head and look the other way, closing your eyes to stop the quick forming tears. No matter how hard your mind tries to rationalize. It’s like a motion sensor laser in your mind is obliterating the logical reasons. Business, compa, another santo that he didn’t bother to save as a contact? None of that could stick. It’s all cheating, unfaithful, hyna.

He returns and you clear your throat. “I’m not feeling so good. I think I ate too fast.”

“You sure? You barely ate though.” He nods at your sandwich. Your lip trembles a bit but you hold it together. “Can you take me home? I’ll lay down and I’ll be good.”

Oscar doesn’t argue back and agrees. 

You have your body turned away from him. He can’t properly rest his hand on your thigh because of how turned away you are. He peers at you a few times but it doesn’t catch your attention. “What’s going on? Stomach ache or something?”

Who are you texting?! Why are you being so shady?! But you aren’t one for confrontation. It’s why it took you as long as it did to realize you were being cheated on.

“Probably my period.” Your gaze is still out of the window when you answer. 

He could feel the tension in the air. Oscar being the opposite of you and not afraid to confront a situation head on. It’s a trait to have in the kind of business he is in. 

As he pulls up into your driveway, you lean over and peck a chaste kiss to his lips. But before you can get out, his hand is on your wrist and holding you back. You struggle but he gives you a look. “You got something on your mind, bebita. Out with it, you know how I feel when you hold things back.”

“When have I ever held things back?” You joke and he quirked an eyebrow as you lean back into the seat. Oh, here we go.

He sucks in a deep breath, his voice going up a few pitches,“But.. but you didn’t say I love you like you usually do. T-then you half hugged me. Mira, you brought it up a week after that night and had a pouty attitude the whole time since you were on your period.” Oscar mocks you of the time you were convinced that he didn’t love you anymore. 

“A ver! I was on my period, it’s how I get. You should know this, we’ve been together for how long now?” You grin, waiting for him to give you a thinking look. 

“14 months. So sí, I know it’s not your period because you had it a week and a half ago. So qué pasa?” He asks you, arm on the back rest of the seat and body turned towards you. Damn him for being so attentive. You fight with yourself on bringing it up. What if it upsets him? Oscar can be quite the temperamental type sometimes. 

With a deep breath, you ask him. “Are you hiding something from me? You just seem a little shady since this morning and then when we were at lunch too. Everytime your phone goes off you make it a mission to hide it or something.” 

Oscar looks to you like you said the stupidest thing in the world. He wipes his hand down his face and around his mouth, looking at you and sighing. Is it a guilty sigh or annoyed sigh?

“Babe...:” He starts. Guilt! It sounds like guilt. The tears prick in your eyes. How could this be happening again? “No, no, no. I mean yes I have been hiding something but it wasn’t anything like how you are probably thinking.” Oscar tries quickly to explain before you break out into hysterics.

You wipe your eyes and cross your arms, “See u tonight?”

“Monse.”

“Oh my god, your brother's underage girlfriend?”

 He groans, closing his eyes for a moment. “Ay, calmáte! Not like that, I said.”

“Then like what?! Hm? You know what I have been through but you are clearly trying to hide it from me!” You didn’t mean to explode but you weren’t getting answers. All you could hear is an excuse being stretched thinly. 

“Hold on. You think… Y/n, please tell me you don’t think I am cheating on you? You think that low of me?” His voice drips with irritation now. He opens his car door and pulls out a pack of cigarettes. He puts a stick between his lips and lights it up, “You think I would do what the pinche ex novio of yours did? After all this time?”

You’re leaning against the hood of his car. The guilt begins to eat at you. It wasn’t fair for you to push it onto him. The horrors of your past have nothing to do with him and you two have had a long conversation about what happened with your ex when you started to get closer. 

“I know… I’m sorry. If it’s not that then what? Why all the secrecy?” You ask, keeping your gaze to the ground. 

He takes a few puffs before flicking the lit end out and placing it behind his ear. “Mírame. I wanted to do something nice for your birthday. So I had help from mi hermanito and his friends, some of the santos to put together a surprise party for tonight. I used the excuse of the carne asada at Geny’s as part of the cover up.”

If you looked at yourself in a mirror right now then you'd see bright white paint and a red ball for a nose. You feel like a clown. 

“You wanted to throw a surprise party for me?” You sniff. How is he so thoughtful? How is he so kind? Even with his stoic demeanor and inability to show emotions, he is the entire package on what you’ve wanted and more. 

Oscar can see that you are feeling stupid. He steps in between your legs and pushes you to sit on the hood. His hands reach to rub up your thighs and rest on your hips, “You went through some shit with that cabrón. I wouldn’t do that. I would be man enough to tell you that it’s not working out any more. Mamas, that’s not the case, today, tomorrow or the next 20 years.

“When we started talking, I didn’t think I would feel anything like I do now. And when you shared with me what you went through, mixed with how much I fell for you then I made it a point to show you how a real man loves a woman.”

Your heart into a million pieces now at your feet. You grasp his face and pull him into a kiss despite the strong tobacco taste and smell. He moves his hands up your back and to your neck. He snakes his fingers into your hair at the nape of your neck and pulls slightly so you are looking at him.

“Te quiero mucho.”

You wanted this moment to last forever.

The first summer party since graduating high school a few weeks ago. It’ll be fun, you’ll drink and enjoy some good company. It’s a time to celebrate! You’re in the corner, watching guys play beer pong and girls ogling over them. Soon enough the house piles with more bodies and it feels overly clustered.

Out in the backyard, it’s nearly as packed but there is more free flowing air. You scan the crowd and see a bunch of classmates, lower classmen and the town’s up-to-no good gang, the Santos. The older group of guys have girls surrounding them. It’s pathetic to see how they are flinging themselves at them for attention that will probably only last one night. 

For a moment you watch the one they call ‘Spooky’. How is it they get their names when joining a gang? Is it given to them? Do they do something that determines it? You are so lost in trying to figure it out, you find he is staring back at you. Some of the other Santos taking notice as well. The smug looks on their faces make you step away, bumping into someone and spilling your drink all over your top. You groan and make your way to the bathroom.

The fabric of your halter top is soaked and there is no way you plan on spending the night like this. You send a quick text to your friend that you have to leave. But she doesn’t respond at all and you remember quickly that she was your ride to the party. You are standing near the street, cursing to yourself, “You’re Y/S/N’s little sister, right?” 

The voice makes you jump as you swivel on your heel to see Spooky standing behind you. You clutch your chest and look around if there is anyone else he could be talking to. Though it’s dumb to think so considering he just asked about your older sister. “Um, yeah I am. How do you know her?” He cracks a small smile.

“Went to school with her. Though she stayed behind a grade due to getting knocked up, she was a cool ass chick.” He explains and you nod, intrigued that he was never mentioned in any conversations you had with Y/S/N. “What’s your name?”

You take a second before answering, “Y/N.”

He nods, stepping away from you to light a blunt. You watch as he fires it up and takes a big hit, holding out to you as an offer. You politely decline, trying to not make things awkward but you’ve never talked with a gang member before. Or an older guy at that. Your sister is nearly 7 years older than you.

“Cool. Y/N.” You smile and look away. Something about how he is painted as this badass guy but the more you keep looking at him, his features seem so soft. And he speaks respectfully towards you. “Trying to get home. Soaked my top.” 

“I can give you a ride, party is lame and half these hynas can’t take a hint.” That makes you laugh and you ponder the offer of a ride home. And though you were always told to never jump in with strangers, you don’t feel entirely uncomfortable around him.

You look around and notice your low battery on your phone. It would die soon and you’d really be stranded not being able to call an uber or lyft. With your sister no longer living in Freeridge, parents divorced with your dad out of the picture and mom an ER nurse currently working a graveyard shift, the Santo leader is your next best option.

He waits for a response, “You sure? I mean… it won’t be bad for your reputation to be seen driving around a fresh outta high school hyna?” It’s his turn to laugh. “On the contrary.”

After sometime you nod your head and he leads his way to his ride. It's a beautiful 1963 Chevy Impala in a gleaming red color. You admire it as you approach it. He notices you looking at it with big interest, most girls exaggerated how much of a sexy car it is just to get in it and make out with him. But you are different with it and he admires that about you.

You run your hand along the hood of it. It’s nothing new to see these old school rides in California but for a place like Freeridge with all the goes down, his car is in mint condition, “You into cars?” He asks as you straighten up after leaning down to take a look at his trims. “Not really, but my dad used to always check out those car shows a couple of towns over, I remember him talking about Impalas a lot.”

“What kind of ride does he have?” You chuckle, “I wouldn’t know, he left when I was 7.” He watches as you get in through the passenger side. Turns out there are more similarities between the two of you than meets the eye.

“Are you sure you are okay with driving me home,Spooky? Aren’t your friends gonna think something?” Oscar always preferred that the ladies call him by his street name. He internally cringed hearing you call him that as he turned on the engine. “ Call me Oscar, they ain’t gonna think of nothing. I’m just giving you a ride home.” 

You look over at him and watch him for a brief moment. Truly how the saying goes that there is more beneath the surface. Your first thoughts of him were of a gangster that could never be up to no good. But turns out, he isn’t half as bad.

After giving him directions to your place, he’s pulling onto the street no longer than 15 minutes later. And within that time, you two chatted up about all kinds of things. Cars, school, even some hopes and dreams. You hadn’t noticed the time that passed by til you checked the time on his dash.

“Geez, it’s nearly 4AM. My bad.” You apologize knowing you can be quite chatty, he brushes it off, thanking you for the company you gave him. “I should get in. My mom will be home in half an hour and well, she has a mean throwing arm with range.”

Oscar laughs wholeheartedly at your comment, making you laugh as well. “Gracias por todo, Oscar. Um, there’s a car show outside of LA next week. I don’t know much about rides but I’m sure you’d like it.”

Are these butterflies? Oscar thinks as you wait for an answer, “Sounds dope. I’ll pick you. Um, should I call?” He asks you as the feeling of butterflies begins to fill your stomach. You nod and pull out your eyeliner from your purse to scribble on his arm, he looks at it then to you as you exit his car. A smile stuck on his face.

How eventful tonight has been.