The Spectator

Chapter 16: Welcome to Miami, B*tch.

A/N: So there are going to be a few chapters set in Miami with Ella and her family playing a central role in the plot. This means plenty of Spanglish dialogue and interactions that I've taken straight out of my own experience as a Cuban American. Her and her family aren't necessarily based on my own, but I took inspiration from real life people. Translations of anything in Spanish will be posted at the end of the chapter, but I tried to make sure the meaning was clear through context, so you might not even need them if you only speak English. Enjoy!

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     Putting up the streamers for her parents' New Year's party, Ella took a pause in her exertions to turn to her sister and complain.

     "How the fuck is it so hot down here in the dead of winter," She demanded. Her sister gave her a look. She'd asked a variation of this question at least once a day everyday since she'd gotten home.

     "Ella, most of south Florida is what we would call a sub-tropical zone and in subtropical zones there are only two seasons: wet and dry. The concept of "winter" is just a construct," Thalia informed her. Ella rolled her eyes.

     "Isn't this dry season then?" She pressed. Her sister confirmed that it was. "Then why is it humid?"

     "Because New York ruined you, that's why," Thalia snapped. "It's not that hot and it's not that humid, you just aren't used to it anymore-- Hand me the other end of the banner, would you?"

     "Meh meh meh, I'm Thalia, I'm studying biology, but I don't like explaining anything, meh," Ella whined, handing her the other end of the banner. Thalia burst out laughing. Ella grinned back.

     It was good to be home again, that was for sure. While Ella had been less than pleased to see how her father was spending his vacation-- half-drunk in the morning and too-drunk at night-- it was still so good to see them again. Hug them again. Hear them speaking Spanish in the distance again. And the smell of home-- it was intoxicating. She'd never noticed the scent that lingered in her parent's house until she moved away. Now, it was as distinctive to her as any perfume, a combination of sofrito and Cuban coffee.

     They were in the kitchen right now, while she and her sister set up the patio for the night's festivities. Her plans for the night were as follows: eat here with Serena and Dan, then head out to a nightclub on South Beach. Of course, Serena knew the owner and he'd happily put her on the VIP list. Her father had been less than thrilled when he found out that she wasn't going to be home for midnight, but he would just have to get over it. She'd spent every other moment of her vacation home with them and-- what was the old saying? Christmas is for family, but New Years is for friends?

     "Oye, Little Miss VIP, ponte a trabajar!" Ah, speak of the devil and he'll walk right out onto the patio. She cast her father a look.

     "I am working!" She protested. "You think all of these decorations put themselves up, papi?"

     She gestured at the nearly completed patio.

     "Estoy jugando, m'ija," He smirked, coming up and giving her a squeeze. "What, they don't make jokes up in New York?"

     "Not funny ones," She smirked back. He laughed and gave her another hug.

     "That's right, that's right," He chuckled, before ambling back inside to finish preparing the food. Ella sighed as soon as he'd disappeared.

     "He was smoking earlier. His clothes reek," She commented to her sister. Thalia sighed and shrugged with some exasperation.

     "You've already yelled at him every day this week, can't you just drop it?"