Electric Tacos (Wattys 2023)

SEVENTEEN

Luis began threatening Mateo from the car over the next week; from picking up Chuck at school, to his shifts at Electric Tacos, to downtown. When he tried to tell Sr., Luis would shrug it off, on the basis of a lack of proof. His principal couldn't do much, and he couldn't fight back with his broken arm.

He was becoming pissed off:

"Chuck, tell your pinche primo, vete a la chingada," Mateo hissed. His sleeping still wasn't great, and the side effects of the painkillers were beginning to wear off at the current dose. His body was getting used to them. "He's been stalking me all week."

Chuck shrugged. "Tell him yourself. I'm not getting involved, Duende."

"I can't exactly be nice to him, or attack him myself."

"Why not? Maybe it'll teach you how to man up." Chuck smirked back at him.

Mateo glared at him and tried to push him as hard as he could with his left hand. Chuck barely budged. Chuck slapped him across the face.

Mateo shook his head and held his left cheek. "That was uncalled for!"

Chuck scoffed. "You were asking for it, Duende."

"Don't call me that." Mateo groaned. "Call me Mateo, or nothing. You don't get to call me a dwarf. You're a puto."

"Mateo, no seas un bicho." Chuck shook his head. "Just grow up, por favor. Try and stand up for yourself and become a man. You can't go through life having other people solve your problems, you know?"

"Says the pendejo Salvatrucha."

Chuck grabbed Mateo by the neck and shoved him against the wall of the dressing room. He felt his head smack against the concrete. "Don't call me that ever again. Nunca en mi vida. ¿Me comprendes, Méndez?"

He let go of Mateo, and he fell down on the floor. Mateo tried to spit at him, but the spit ended up on his leg.

Chuck laughed. "Eres muy patetico."

Mateo hissed. "Shut up, Ese. Pinche cabron!"

"Is that what your Viejo says to you?"

"At least I still have my Dad."

Chuck kicked Mateo on the chest as he walked out of the room.

Mateo coughed and crawled over to a nearby chair to prop himself up and get off the floor.

Chuck was right.

It was his battle to fight.

He needed to become a man before he got devoured by the streets.

____

That afternoon, Mateo went home, had a short nap, took some more painkillers, and got changed to do some more 'studying'. He still felt groggy when he woke up but managed to pull himself out of bed.

He'd promised Ricky that he'd study some more with him, and try to use the time to slowly get over his crush on Tito. He'd also wanted to tell him about the Chuck incident, but he didn't want to spread any more animosity.

Extra friction was the last thing they needed.

More tests were coming up, and he wanted them to be done. He wanted the school dance to hurry up, and come so he could relax, and dance the stress away.

He needed to get out of his head. For his arm to get better.

To forget.

To enjoy.