Electric Tacos (Wattys 2023)

ELEVEN

Ricky was laying across the sofa, and sighing to himself as he listened to music on the boombox in a dark room. He didn't want to bother anymore.

Mateo had gotten too emotional for him to handle. He wasn't good at conflict resolution, so he decided not to go after him.

He could apologize tomorrow.

He probably needed to sleep for a bit.

Unleash his anger on a punchbag, or go running around the park.

Yell at some music, or make some terrible tacos.

Do what he needed to do to not be pissy.

Before Ricky could do anything else, there was a bang on the door.

"Enrique, are you in there?" A familiar voice asserted.

"What?" He replied back.

"Come in the kitchen, pronto," Pops said.

"Aight, coming now."

Letting out a sigh, he went into the kitchen to find four mugs of coffee sitting out. He sat down opposite Jose, who'd finally finished his Golden Girls binge and was beaming from ear to ear after his caffeine hit.

Pops was beside Ricky and passed him a mug. "Tell me what you think of this."

Ricky nodded and took several sips. He wanted more. "Delicioso!"

"Your primo made it."

"He did a good job," Ricky said, looking around the room, and then at the half-empty coffee cup. "Where the hell is he now?"

"Watch your mouth," Pops said, "He went away to see if Mateo was alright."

Ricky rolled his eyes. "Of course he did."

"The kid looked upset. Did you fall out?"

Ricky nodded. "We got into an argument over something stupid, and he blew it out of proportion."

Pops sniffed the air. "Is that weed I smell?"

"Must be the grass outside. I didn't shower after practice."

Pops glared. "It's still very strong."

Ricky shrugged. "Maybe it's the stains."

"I've watched enough Cheech and Chong to know that you're bullshitting me," Pops shook his head, "y no soy feliz."

Ricky took his coffee and started to walk out of the kitchen when Pops yelled "ENRIQUE COME BACK OR ELSE YOU'RE GROUNDED!"

Ricky turned around and sighed at him. "What the hell do you want?"

"I want you to be honest with me. Did you smoke some weed?"

He rolled his eyes at his Pops. "Aight, I had a bit. Why does it concern you?"

"I need to know what you're into, I'm your padre."

"Whatever. Are you gonna ground me or something?"

Pops rolled his eyes. "If you don't stop giving me caca, I will."

"Aight. Lemme finish my coffee and I'll be on my way." Ricky walked back over and grabbed his cup, slugging as much of it as he could. "I'm gonna go for a run."

"Are you going to the store?" Jose asked him.

Ricky shook his head. "Go yourself."

"Okay," Jose said.

A few minutes later, Ricky walked out of the apartment and into the night. The streetlights illuminated his way as he went down the sidewalk, and towards Chuck's place.