Trouble

The small-scale goal was already set up on one side of the yard, the soccer ball caught up in the furthest corner of the net. Claudia untangled it immediately and threw it across the yard to her sister. “Give me your best shot,” she trash-talked, getting into a ready position and shaking her butt a couple times, trying to be intimidating.

“Sol’s on my team!” Marisol declared as she kicked the ball over to me.

“Alright, but I’m not going to shoot any goals. It wouldn’t be fair,” I expressed as I dribbled the ball between my two feet.

Claudia and Marisol groaned in complaint at the same time. “But I can’t play against Claudia!” Marisol objected. “She’s eleven!”

“And how am I going to practice my goalkeeping if I’m guarding the goal against a six-year-old?” Claudia seconded.

“HEY!” Marisol snapped, putting her hands on her hips. “Don’t be mean to me!”

Claudia rolled her eyes and let out an annoyed sigh, which just riled up Marisol even more, the little girl’s face turning redder and redder with every passing millisecond.

“Stop it,” I interjected. “Fine. I will shoot occasionally. Does that make you both happy?”

They both looked at each other before Claudia shrugged. “I guess.”

“Whatever,” Marisol muttered, marching up to the side of the yard opposite the goal.

I kicked it over to her and jogged closer to the house. Marisol jetted forward, passing the ball back and forth between her feet sloppily. I knew in her mind, she probably thought she was doing a fabulous job, looking like a pro.

With a grunt worthy of a tennis player, she swung her leg forward and fired it toward the goal.

But Claudia intercepted it with ease, barely moving.

Marisol let out a howl that sounded very much like a wolf. “CLAUDIA.”

“What?” Claudia asked, blinking lazily and pushing her glasses further up her nose. “I thought you wanted to practice.”

“But you have to be nice! I’m littler than you!”

“No es mi problema,” Claudia replied snarkily.

“Hey,” I tried to interrupt, but the two girls kept going at it, screaming at the top of their lungs at each other in rapid-fire Spanish.

“Guys…” I tried again, my voice a little louder, glancing between the two of them. Marisol was completely red, sweat starting to bead on her upper lip as she shouted. Claudia’s eyes looked half-crazed as she started cussing out her little sister, bringing out the big guns with words she probably learned from Esperanza, since I’d always been careful not to swear around them.

“THAT IS ENOUGH,” I finally bellowed, stepping between the two of them. “This is ridiculous. Act like adults.”

The two girls looked over at me like I had grown another head and started talking like Morgan Freeman.

“But we’re not adults,” Claudia pointed out.

“I don’t care. That doesn’t mean you can act like this. It’s not going to fly in real life.” I squatted down so I was on Marisol’s eye level before saying, “Mari, you have to understand that, while you want to practice, Claudia’s trying to practice, too. Plus, if she let you score every time, you’d never get better. So she’s helping you, too.”

Mari sniffled without answering, but I knew from the look in her eyes that she got me.

“Claudia, don’t’ be so harsh on your sister. She’s five years younger than you.” I raised my eyebrows before continuing, “And I swear to Dios, if I ever hear those words come out of your mouth again, I’m going to wash your mouth out with soap. ¿Me entiendes?”

She nodded, scrunching up her face. “You might want to have that talk with Esperanza, then.”

“Oh, don’t you worry your little head about it. I’ll definitely be having a talk with Esperanza.” I shook my head for a second. “And another thing, kids. If you start fighting one more time, I’m breaking up this game and going inside to let you guys duke it out on the front lawn. Get it?”

“Got it,” they replied at the same time.

“Good. Now Claudia, give the ball back to your sister.”

They started playing again, getting along much better, knowing the consequences if they didn’t. There was a bit of smack-talk coming from Claudia, along with some whimpering from Marisol, but for the most part, they were getting along fine.

“Go, Sol!” Marisol screeched as she fired the ball at me.

I hadn’t been paying much attention, so I had to recover quickly in order to get the ball back, passing it back and forth between my feet.

Claudia looked prepared, crouched down, flexing her fingers to time my approach. I thought for a second about kicking an easy ball, one that Claudia could catch easily, but then I thought back to the speech I’d given the girls, about how Marisol was never going to know if she was improving if she never failed at first.

Sucking up my guilt, I snapped the ball into the goal, in the tight corner between the goal post and Claudia’s head.

Instead of reaching for it, she ducked out of the way with saucer eyes, her breathing rapid. “Are you trying to kill me?” she gasped, putting a hand to her heart.

“Of course not,” I started to argue before Marisol came over and wrapped her hands around my hips, burrowing her face into my lower stomach.

“YAY. Thank you, Sol. I finally got a point!”

I snickered and pet the top of Marisol’s head a couple times. “You’re welcome, querida. Now try to do it yourself.”

Marisol accepted the challenge as Claudia threw the ball back to her. But, as I expected, Marisol couldn’t manage to score on her own.

“It’s okay,” I encouraged. “You’re looking way better, Marisol. You’ll be able to kick Claudia’s butt soon.”

She grinned up at me, her chest rising and falling rapidly with her heavy breathing. “Thanks. You think I’ll be as good as you someday?”

“Claro. Even better.”

She looked pretty satisfied before hugging me again. I let out a sad little sigh, knowing that she was getting her sweat all over my t-shirt, which meant that I was going to have to change before I went out to work that night.

“Vete,” an unfamiliar voice called out to me. But after processing it for a second, I heard the hint of an accent.

Oh, carajo. How the fuck did that kid find me?

“Why is he telling you to leave…?” Claudia trailed off, giving Liam a confused look. “And why is he speaking Spanish? There’s no way that guy is Mexicano.”

I cleared my throat and pushed the girls toward the house. “Why don’t you guys go inside? I’ll make some sandwiches in a minute.”

“Okay!” Marisol agreed enthusiastically before darting into the house.

But Claudia was far more hesitant, watching Liam carefully with narrowed eyes. “Want backup?” she asked me. I wasn’t sure if she even knew what she was inferring, that he was a guy from a rival gang that was going to jump me, but I didn’t feel like setting her straight just then. She’d probably just heard it at school and didn’t understand. Plus, she had no idea I was in Los Monstruos. And it was going to stay that way.

“Claudia, now,” I demanded, pointing back at the house.

She huffed before following my directions.

It wasn’t until I heard the front door close behind me that I finally looked up at the dark-eyed guy standing in front of me.

God, I wanted to smack that smug, cute look off his face.