Westbrook Academy for Metahumans: Forums

“-don’t be stupid.”

“Oye*, I ain’t stupid, yo, you know I’m the sh-“

“You’re the little piojo* who used to follow me around and steal my Barbies. Stop talking like that to me or I’ll hang up and you know it.”

“Fine, be lame. Teacher’s pet.”

“Lazy slacker.”

“Four-eyed geek.”

“Beach-bum loser.”

“Hey, do you still like that guy Emilio? He still going out with that girl from the soccer team?”

That got her. “Go find another scorpion, you little brat!”

“Ha ha. Scorpions don’t work no more on me, and you know it. I miss you, hermana*.”

“Double negative. And I miss you too, hermanito*. Miss you more if you’d talk right.”

“Whatevah. You’re just going coconut on us. Brown on the outside, white on the-“

“Shut up, I know what it means, and just cause you wanna be from the barrio doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with talking right. You are such a pain.”

“You love me and you know it. You just wish you’d gotten the looks and talent and luck and personality in the family like I did instead of just the nerd-genes.”

“All you got was the ‘please pay attention to me’ genes. The rest of it is all in your head, piojo.”

“Ain’t no piojo no more for sure, dorkface. I’m alacrán*. Juan Alacrán.”

“You’re still just Juan Alejandro to me. And you just be careful with that alacrán thing. Don’t get yourself in trouble. And don’t give any more girls allergic reactions!”

“I didn’t know! I’m warning people now all the time and everything. Anyway, can’t help it the girlies all wanna-“

“Ok, I’m hanging up now. Bye, Juan.”

“Bye Raquel.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------


“So whattaya got?”

Juan sighs. “Anglo anglos everywhere.”

“All of ‘em?”

“Nah, but they all over, and they runnin’ it.”

“You knew was gonna roll like that. I mean, Rhode Island?”

“I know, I know. Still though. Be lookin’ at me like I’m all loco. I wish all of you were up here. They watch us roll up in the joint together, and they’d see straight truth how we be dominatin’. “ Esteban and seven other of their friends had together carved out a spot as a strong corillo, a crew, without having to resort to getting jumped into a gang. Not the simplest thing, but it had helped make them as popular as they had wanted to be.

Now he was by himself, starting from scratch. Juan shook his head. What could he do? “Just find some new people be down, they can’t all be lame," his friend suggested. "Anyway, how’re the gallinitas*? You on it?”

“Yeah, there’s some are ah-ight. The gallinitas ain’t really much less anglo, but they pretty bangin’. No, they really bangin’. There’s one I just be callin’ Bangin’. And some other girls be new like me, like this one tough girl I know ain't 'llergic, and she be straight put together. And the cheeries…”

“Word?”

“Yo. “

“So you on it?”

“I dunno, ‘mano*. Ain’t the same. But I’ma roll with what I got, take or leave. There’s one or two might be down.”

“You let me know. And pics or it didn’t happen.”

Juan laughs. “I know. I will.”

“Yo, later ‘mano.”

“Laters, Este.”

Juan leans back sighing. He turned on his ipod and slipped the buds in his ears, then scrolled down to “Super Estrella” by Omega el fuerte and Fuego. He felt better, less alone. Family was one thing, but Esteban had been his best friend since third grade. Talking to him made him feel like he was back on top; he shuddered at the thought of being just one of the crowd, or worse, a real nobody. There was no way he'd be able to live with that.

He scrolled the now playing song down to "Estrellita de Madrugada" by Daddy Yankee and Omega el fuerte. He lost himself in the fast beat, bobbed his head to the rhythm. Then he paused. That, at least, would help cement his reputation. As long as they played something that would let him break out his moves, especially the ones he'd been working on since he'd gone meta, a night at dancing would prove what he had. Maybe he could bring some music with him and see how that played out. Or, maybe he could ask Peyton about that particular topic. He smiled, and went back to moving to the song thudding in his ears, his heart, his blood...

***********************************************************************************************
* ”Oye” (OH-yeh): Listen
“piojo” (Pee-OH-ho): louse, cootie
“hermana” (er-MAH-nah): sister
“hermanito” (er-mah-NEE-toh): little brother
“alacrán” (ahl-ah-KRON): an old-fashioned term for scorpion, as opposed to the more common “escorpión".
"gallinitas" (gah-yee-NEE-tas): colloquially used as generally equivalent to the term "chicks" for girls
" 'mano" (MAH-no): short for 'hermano', literally brother, but often used for a close friend

“So how are your teachers?”

“They ah’ight I guess. Y’know. Teachery. Teachin’ stuff.”

“Juan.”

“They’re fine, pops. They’re good.”

“Good. So are you going out for any activities? Taking up drums again, or soccer again, or swimming? Your mother and I were very impressed by the facilities and programs available when we enrolled you.”

“Oh yeah, the place is great pops. It’s just so great I can’t be in Miami no more.”

“Juan, hijo*, we have talked and we have talked…”

“I know I know. Best meta place ever. Don’t be buggin’. I’ll prolly do somethin’ since there ain’t no beach to be goin’ to in winter. You know, winter, that thing that happens up here crazy far north.”

“Juan, that’s enough. Watch your tone.”

“Sorry pops.”

“And you should give everything you can a try. Your mother and I always say that if you would just apply yourself…”

“…I’d be just as so totally great as Raquel, yeah, I know pops.”

“You just lost this week’s allowance for tone and interrupting. Want to keep going?”

“No, sorry, geez, sorry.”

“Alright. Well, you be good and have fun settling in, ok?”

“I will. Later, pops.” There’s a pause, and Juan rolls his eyes at the phone. “Bendición*.”

“Dios te bendiga*. Goodbye hijo.”

Juan tosses his phone on the bed and makes a face. “Your mother and I meh meh meh. Whatever.“

He sighs, though, and stands, knowing his father will follow up. He never lets anything just go; its part of what made him a good scientist. Now…where was that swim team sign-up thing?

*******************************************************
* “hijo” (EE-ho): Son
“Bendición” (ben-dee-siOWN) “Dios te bendiga” (DeeOHS TEH ben-DEE-gah): Traditional exchange between a younger and an elder member of a family. The younger/less senior member of the family initiates the exchange. Literally: “Blessing” “God bless you”.

“¿Y?” Esteban asked.

“Oh, y’know, things lookin’ up. Startin’ ta get my hero on.” It was said half-nonchalant, but the other half was all slick rodomontade.

“Oh word?”

“Tu lo sabes. Gangbangers be goin’ down.”

“Represent, yo. You got like mask and cape an’ to’ eso?”

Juan chuckled a little. “Nah, cape prolly get messed up in my spines an’ all. Get in the way. And…mask? Yeah, like wearin’ a mask really gonna hide what be makin’ me stand out when I be havin’ spikes on my face.”

“Ah-ight, ah-ight, so whatcha got, Juan?”

“I got, like, my swim thing an’ some boxin’ boots. Got a belt be rigged wit’ blacklights, be givin’ me the glow.”

“F’real? So you rockin’ the glow?”

“Oh, I got the glow, yo.”

“Eso es! What else?”

“Nada. ‘s it.”

“Whatcha mean, that’s it. Whatcha got up top?”

“I got the glow and the body that be makin’ the gatas sigh, ‘mano. ‘s it.”

“Ain’t it cold?”

“Nah. I mean…it is? I ain’t feelin’ it though. Prolly part of my skin bein’ all diff’rent, or somethin’. Reg’lar skin ain’t be glowin’ blue an’ poppin’ spines, y’know?” Juan shrugged, though obviously that was invisible to his friend on the phone. “My pops’d prolly figure it out. I do be knowin’ there be scorps in places that be gettin’ cold, though. Bug fact. An’ I know I ain’t never seen no scorp be wearin’ a coat. Guess I just be tough like that now.”

“Dude, you bad-ass.”

“Ain’t tellin’ me nuttin’ I ain’t already know, Este.”

Esteban laughs. “Dale, Juan, dale. So how you doin’ on the important stuff?”

Juan smiled and leaned back in his chair. “Hay dos. Una de la Raza, y una blanquita rubia.”

“That’s it?”

“Ain’t like that, yo. They be somethin’, they ain’t just gatas or perritas. And ain’t like I plan on bein’ done.”

“Uh-huh. I hittin’ the sore spot? Juan be losin’ his Don?”

“Cállate ya.” Juan frowned. That was the thing about a real pack; without something external, they turned on each other sniffing for weakness. Or maybe he was starting to lose his spot with his crew, too. That day on the wall back home still bugged him. “You know this place ain’t like home, where you just run by the beach and there be like swarms in their ‘kinis just be waitin’ on ya. An’ anyway, like I said, these chicas be up there, yo. Could run wit’ the corillo, not just be trailin’.”

“Ah-ight.” He sounded less than impressed. “Hit me wit’ the pics, yo.”

“I hit you wit’ pics and stats. ‘member, they all up on the meta, too. Prolly either could chump all y’all out like ain’t nothin’. Y yo tengo dos.”

“’sta bien, ‘sta bien. Chill, yo, I gotchoo. “

“You better. Once I get my scorp thing down up here, I gonna be hittin’ the barrio like ain’t no one ever did. Alacrán all up in it.”

“You better, yo. Anyway, message me wit’ what you got, an’ I be lettin’ the corillo know.”

“Straight. Hasta, Este.”

“Adios.”

Juan sighed, looking down at his phone. Always have to play the game. Then he opened up the music app and scrolled through his playlist, looking for something to put him in a better mood. Chambonea by Nicky JAM? Juan smirked, then switched to the youtube app to watch the video instead. His smirk got wider as it started, but before it got too far in he sighed again and shook his head, backing out of the video. He liked what he was seeing, but it was reminding him of Esteban’s comments, and that wasn’t what he was looking for.

The newer remix of Mi Alma Se Muere? Yeah. He bobbed his head as he watched, the beat getting into full swing. A second later furrowed his brow in thought. Could you get a Miami street thing going up here? A little outdoor dance party action to get him feeling right? He frowned. A few might be down, but he doubted he had the pull to pied-piper anglos to a latin beat. Yet, anyway. Oh well. He went back to the music.

“…and then after that we left the lot so ain’t nobody notice nothin’. Anyway, that spot be where we thinkin’ of doin’ that party I told you ‘bout. Knew she’d be the one to ask to get a party goin’.”

“’mano, that’s tight as hell. Que gallinita sabrosa. And the other dude in the pic’s your roomie? He wasn’t tryin’ to snake in behin’ your back or nothin’?”

Juan chuckled. “Yo, ain’t neither of us collared up, and it’s cool like that. She wanna do her thing she can do her thing. ‘sides, she’d probably let me know regardless. But no, I ain’t think so.”

“It’s like that?” asked Esteban.

“It’s like that,” Juan replied.

“Aight, well, do it, yo,” Esteban said.

“You know I will. Got some more plans, too. Some wit’ the party. Like bebidas; I think there be a way to work that, but that’s gonna be some secret squirrel stuff we do wit’ our meta. An’ I’m hopin’ there be a few peeps show up specific. I think I can swing me some more pull, or at least a truce. Then things open up some.”

“Settin’ up a play, huh?”

“Gotta. Only right, though, I be the one who be givin’ the dude his party like he should be havin’. Gotta be givin’ me some kinda good karma.”

“Damn right. Don’t forget to show ‘em how you swing. And maybe be usin’ a corner wit’ that one latina you said be around. At least get the red cup pic in. So that what you be doin’?”

“I got some other things be about that are more complicated. Things be goin’ down up here. I’ll tell ya about it all next call, ‘mano, I just heard somethin’ on the comm I gotta talk to.”

“Comm?”

“It’s…I didn’t tell ya about that? It’s a hero thing, I’ll tell ya ‘bout that next call too. Adios, Este.”

“Adios, Juan. “