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Marisol looked out of the window as Oscar pulled over in front of her house.

She examined her home, her eyebrows furrowing together, "Thank God, my dad's sleeping."

She turned her head over to Oscar, who was leaning over, "It makes it easier to sneak in."

Oscar chuckled, "Aren't you like, nineteen?"

Marisol didn't reply as she played with the soft toy in her hands. She smiled to herself, "Thanks for tonight."

"No problem," Oscar nonchalantly replied, his eyes searching her face.

She knew that in the movies, this would be the exact moment where they shared a kiss before she went inside.

Marisol also knew how he acted the last time they had kissed, almost as if it never happened.

She began to realize that was typically how he reacted to their relationship in general. Since he had been released from jail, anything about their lives from before had barely been mentioned. The growing up together, the adolescent dates, losing their virginities to each other, the fact that they loved each other.

Marisol thought back to what Cesar had told her a couple of weeks ago, about how she had been the only girl Oscar Diaz ever fell in love with. She couldn't believe it and didn't want to. Oscar now, wasn't the same Oscar she had grown up with.

She knew when he got released that he wouldn't be like he was before. Before he was just a teenager, handling adult situations way too soon. Marisol hated that he was beginning to put Cesar through the same things he had to experience.

As Oscar leaned in closer, Marisol could barely find the ability to breath as he tried to fill in the space between them. Their lips barely touched when Marisol moved away.

She began to stutter as Oscar gave her a confused expression, "I'm sorry, I just can't."

The girl ran a hand through her hair, muttering a quick goodnight before exiting the car.

She quickly made her way inside of the house, making sure to quietly close the door behind her. Marisol let out a deep breath, her forehead resting on the wooden door. Someone clearing their throat from behind her, made the girl jump.

She placed a hand on top of her chest, her heart beating fast.

"Fuck," she gasped as her father stood in front of her. His arms were crossed and his face was serious as he glared at her. When he continued to stare and not say a word, Marisol's eyes squinted.

"What?" She cluelessly questioned.

"That didn't look like Nikki's car," Monty stated, referring to Athena's mother. Marisol let her hand fall from her chest back down to her side but her heart still beat quick.

Usually, the girl would have a lie good enough to get herself out of this situation but she didn't. Marisol gave up on saving herself as she sighed, "Okay, I know how this looks but I swear it was just once-"

"Stop it," Monty held up a hand, cutting the girl off. He shook his head, disappointed, "Just stop, Mari. This is the second time I've seen you with him and the second time you've tried to lie to me about it."

"I'm an adult, dad. It shouldn't even come to this point," Marisol rolled her eyes, beginning to get fed up with explaining herself to him, "you catching me sneaking into the house, asking me where I was, who I was with. No other twenty year old I know goes through this."

Her father scoffed, "Are you forgetting what you put me and your sister through last year? All of the times where you wouldn't come home for days, where your family thought you were missing or God forbid, dead?" Marisol could feel a hard lump forming in the back of her throat as he continued to reminisce. "Or the time where you came home so blown out you could barely walk? Do you know how heartbreaking it is when your daughter wakes you up in the middle of the night because her older sister is passed out right on the front lawn?"

Instead of sadness, anger began to fill Marisol's body. She hated when her father would bring things like this up, mostly because she tried her hardest to forget them.

"You know I'm not like that anymore!" Marisol spat.

"Do I?!" Monty argued back, stepping closer towards his daughter, "Your clothes constantly reek of whatever you're smoking, you're out at all hours of the night. First, it was that wannabe Prophet boyfriend of yours and now it's the leader of the Santos! You really climbed your way up the ladder, huh?"

Marisol felt as if someone punched her in the chest, the way her inside began to ache. Her heart steadily pounded, making her body feel tight. Her fists clenched and her arms shook with emotion. She knew he was only saying this out of anger, trying his best to pain her but she didn't care.

It worked.

"Screw you, dad!" Marisol sarcastically laughed loudly, pacing in place, "We have these stupid fucking rules about guys but none of that seemed to matter when Cesar was staying with us, right? Or that rule only applies to me now?"

Monty opened his mouth to try to explain but Marisol didn't give him the chance as she progressively grew rowdier.

"I get that I fucked up, trust me, I know I fucked up. Having your little sister holding your hair back as your head sits in the fucking toilet isn't really a good time, okay? But, you still find ways to hold that against me, no matter what I do or how much I walk on egg shells around you, and I'm fucking sick of it!"

"First of all," Monty yelled back, the loudness in his voice matching hers, "Cesar staying with us was for his own protection, not that you care, considering you hang out with the person who kicked him out. Second, I will continue holding your actions against you until you finally take responsibility for everything that happened. I mean, I haven't seen one glimpse of change in your behavior since then."

"Oh, you've got to be fucking kidding me," Marisol scoffed, pushing past her father as she stormed down the hallway towards her bedroom.

"Nikki called me last week," Monty yelled after her as she continued, "there were bruises and scratches all over Athena's face."

Marisol stopped in her tracks, not knowing he had knowledge of that.

Monty's voice began to crack, "She said you were over that night and when I asked if you were hurt too, she didnt know. Then you came home that morning and I saw you, I just- never felt so much relieve."

Marisol sniffled, feeling the flow of tears running down from her eyes as she turned back around.

"Isn't that horrible of me as a father? To have to wait until my daughter wakes up in the morning and walks into the kitchen to know if something had happened to her the night before? I don't know," Monty held his down in a sense of defeat, "Maybe Selena was right, maybe I am doing a terrible job raising you girls."

Marisol sucked in a breath, her chest shaking as she exhaled, "What are you trying to say?"

"Maybe it would've been best if you and Monse didn't live with me anymore."

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