#lou's oc: cd rhodes

[n0-eyedtaissa]

Ruthless, Bad Decisions, and Why They’re So Fun (Serpent Siblings!AU) — Malachai x OC

A/N: A beautiful nightmare pairing, courtesy of @hughstheforcelou​‘s willingness to go along with any of my ideas lmfao. Also featuring multiple of their OCs and their version of the Ghoulies. Spawned from this idea here, part two coming soon-ish (maybe don't hold me to this)

Word Count: 3,016

Part One: The Before

It starts after homecoming. CD Rhodes comes to school on Monday morning with a split lip and a mischievous glint in his eye. None of his friends had seen, nor heard from him since late Friday evening after returning to the Soh-Peterson household after ditching the football game. Technically, she was the last person to know CD’s whereabouts. Ruthie catalogued the details in her head the best she should, not wanting to be a witness or an accomplice to something that had happened when CD was left unsupervised: Ruthie remembered the car ride back from the homecoming game (where she was left to her own devices as Dante went on Serpent business, all while CD and Spyder entertained themselves), and afterwards the four of them lounged around the living room watching movies until Ruthie silently excused herself for bed. The details get fuzzier here, as Ruthie swears she remembers CD sneaking into her bedroom, but for the life of her she can’t think of anywhere he mentioned going. CD snuck out the front door any no one saw him after that. 

“Where you been all weekend man, we thought you died,” Dante claps a hand over CD’s shoulder and lets out a loud laugh to try and cover up the relief.

CD struggles with the combination of his locker, one quick rasp on the metal and it springs open. “Nah, you oughta know by now that nothing can kill me!” He laughs, chucking some beat-up textbooks into his backpack.

“Fool’s got that cockroach mentality.” Spyder pipes up from where he’s leaning against the locker bank with his black sunglasses covering his already bloodshot eyes. CD slugs him in the shoulder as retaliation and everyone laughs. 

The school bell rings overhead and none of them move right away. 

“No but seriously, where’d you go?” Ruthie asks curiously, pulling CD’s jacket sleeve so he can’t run away without evading the question. Yeah he was prone to wandering, but it was weird (even for CD) not to check in with his friends multiple times of the day, even if only for the most menial reason. None of them would ever care to admit that his absence made them worried.

“Don’t you worry about it, Ruthless” CD winks, giving Ruthie the inclination that he’d explain later.

Rounding the corner and beginning her walk to history, Ruthie tried her best to dodge around the heaps of students who were still half-asleep yet already angry. Someone rams into her shoulder roughly but it doesn’t stop her. That kind of thing was commonplace at an overcrowded high school so she never really thought too much about it or took it personally. Another much harder shove is enough to make Ruthie swear under her breath, but it’s the wave of hot coffee that’s splashed onto her that really wakes her up that Monday morning. “Oh what the fuck…” Ruthie sighs angrily as she shakes the brown drips from her hand. 

“Watch where you’re going next time!” A harsh voice bites from around the corner, despite the fact that they were the one who ran into her.

Looking up from behind her curtain of hair, Ruthie comes to find herself face to face with the always sly looking Malachai Martinez. Their interactions had always been few if any, and before Friday night at the game, Ruthie couldn’t think of a single time where she’d made conversation with him. She hated the fact that she remembered the key points from their time together during the homecoming game, when they sat under the bleachers together. She had to recount them in great detail to Dante, who’s feathers always got ruffled by Malachai’s presence. Need a light? Malachai had asked her that night when he held up his zippo lighter and Ruthie grabbed his hand for leverage as she ducked her joint towards the flame. 

Ruthie doesn’t say anything for a moment as she replays the details again. 

Malachai looks down at her and quirks a curious smile. “You know, I never realized how short you are” He chuckles, his tone sounding drastically different from the moment before. He sounded playful and casual, friendly almost. He rustles around in the pockets of his studded leather battle-jacket and retrieves a wad of cheap paper napkins and hands them over.

Ruthie’s eyebrows furrow. “You know I’d say I never realized how rude you are, but then I’d be lying.” She takes the napkins cautiously and is surprised when Malachai laughs at her observation. She dabs half-heartedly at the coffee that had already soaked into her cheap cotton t-shirt but ultimately decides its a lost cause.

In a sudden moment of selflessness, or perhaps a personality shift, Malachai pulls a pack of cigarettes from another of his many pockets and offers one to Ruthie. “Lemme make it up to you with a smoke? That’s not coming out ‘til you wash it” He flicks his lighter, looking both dangerous and inviting all in one. 

“I’ll just have to go try and wash it in the bathroom,” Ruthie counters, already not liking the idea of wearing a cold, wet t-shirt around a bunch of her male classmates but still not wanting to give Malachai the satisfaction of knowing that he helped her. Because that meant that in the future she might owe him something, and if there’s anything Ruthie was starting to realize as Dante was starting to work closer with the Serpents, was that the last thing you wanted to do was to start owing people favors. 

“Or you could just stop being stubborn and let me get you a shirt? I know I have one in my car somewhere…”

Ruthie contemplated for a second. “Thanks but no thanks, I should probably get to class either way…” She bites at the corner of her lip as she looks nervously between Malachai and the clock. It was history class and her teacher was a notorious asshole, so Ruthie knew that the later she was the worse things would end up for her. 

Malachai laughs too loudly and it reverberates around the emptying hallways and bounces off the cold, graffiti-covered lockers. “You’re already late, what’s the worst that could happen?” He raises his pierced eyebrow at Ruthie and takes a cigarette out of the pack, lighting it in the hallway. He takes a long drag as he challenges her, a silent question. What was she going to do?

She was asking herself that same question.

Ruthie rolled her eyes and grabbed the cigarette from between his lips, ducking out the emergency exit before anyone could spot either of them (though she wasn’t all that sure anyone would do anything even if they were to be caught). The metal door whispers closed and Ruthie feels herself breathe little easier. She leans against the brick-walled building and shivers at the cold mid-morning air as she takes a long drag from Malachai’s cigarette, not bothering to give it back. He smirks at that, the leather of his jacket creaking as he crossed his arms over his chest.  

“You know, I was pretty surprised that I didn’t see you this weekend, considering that your friend was part of the late-night crowd at our little soiree…” Malachai steals a quick glance in Ruthie’s direction before returning his attention back to grinding a littered cigarette butt into the pavement with the toe of his boot. 

Ruthie looks over at him, confused. Malachai goes to clear his throat before explaining, “Things tend to get a little out of hand when the late night crew comes around. People like to be a bit rambunctious, you could say…” 

Ruthie thinks she’s putting some of the pieces together. She thinks about CD’s split lip, remembers him winking at her as she pestered him further about where he disappeared to over the weekend. Rambunctious might as well have been CD Rhodes’ middle name. “So you said that CD was there?” She leans a little bit closer to Malachai, hoping that she could shake some details from him. 

“Romulus? Yeah, he’s no stranger to our turf these days” Malachai taps away his cigarette ash and starts walking towards the parking lot, offering no more information. 

“Yeah? What kind of trouble did he end up in to get himself that split lip?”

Malachai clicks his tongue. “Sometime’s your friend’s big mouth gets him into trouble, that’s all…”

Ruthie goes to open her mouth to protest and ask for more details but she stops because she knows exactly what Malachai means. The question that was weighing on her mind though, was whether or not Malachai was the one who punched CD. Because Ruthie was okay with pushing her friends buttons by hanging around with him, but if Malachai laid a hand on any of her friends she wouldn’t be able to refrain from giving him a piece of her mind.

“It wasn’t me, you know” Malachai says, as if he could read her thoughts. 

“What?”

“I’m not the one that hit Romulus.”

“I didn’t think you did…” Ruthie lies, biting the inside of her cheek. She takes a drag off of Malachai’s cigarette and looks away from him, watching as the PE classes ran up and down the rickety set of bleachers. 

“I mean,” Malachai pipes up after a second “I wouldn’t blame you if you did.” He shrugs his shoulders and slides against the wall, taking a step closer to Ruthie so their shoulders were touching.

“You don’t party, do you?” Malachai asks, blowing smoke through his nose. Ruthie raises her eyebrow in question so he expands: “I never see you around anywhere that isn’t school or over at Pop’s…it’s like there’s a ghost in our midst.”

Ruthie can’t help but break a smile, laughing through her lungful of smoke. “I’m too busy for shit like that.” She makes a loose gesture towards the school, the bike racks, and the parking spots filled up with motorcycles bearing Serpent and Ghoulie insignias. “None of this shit matters to me.”

Malachai nods and curtly and is silent for a few minutes, like he was pondering what it would be like for someone not to be tied to anything, no gangs or turf war or anything. He kicks off the wall and starts towards the cars in the parking lot. Ruthie picks up her book bag and scrambles to follow him a few paces behind. 

“Where the hell are you going now?” She huffs, annoyed that here she was, following Malachai around like one of the many other girls who were constantly on his heels.

Malachai weaves though the rows of bike racks and parked chop-shop motorcycles, wandering like he forgot where he parked even though school had only started a handful or hours ago. He walks up to one car specifically, black vintage and boat-like, and smiles as he stands by the passengers side, like he was surveying any and all visible items he could see though the dirty window. He rolls up one of his pant legs and pulls a long, thin piece of metal out of his sock. He takes the metal slim jim and shimmies it through the gap between the window and its weather stripping, the notched end first. Malachai roots around for a minute, trying to find the right angle to catch onto the door’s locking mechanism before suavely pulling the thin strip of metal up and out of the door frame. The door unlocks easily and Malachai makes a content-sounding noise as he opens the car door and starts rooting around. 

“Is this even your car?” Ruthie asks nervously, looking over her shoulder back towards the school’s side exit. She knew that no one was coming, that no one cared if two Southside High students were skipping class, but a part of her wanted someone to find the two of them and tell them to go back to their classrooms, to get Ruthie in trouble before Malachai had the chance to. 

Malachai scoffs. “Really Ruthless, did you think I’d be breaking into someone else’s car right now?” He feigns disappointment as he rolls his eyes and tosses a t-shirt over his shoulder, making Ruthie rush to catch it before it hits the ground. 

She can’t help but laugh because yes, she did think Malachai would be breaking into somebody else’s car, but the idea that this was how he got into his car every day was so in-character for him that Ruthie couldn’t picture him doing anything else.

“Do my ears deceive me or did I just get a laugh outta you?” Malachai raises an eyebrow, taking a final puff from his cigarette before flicking it away on the asphalt.

“First and only one at the rate we’re going here” She jokes. Ruthie takes the thin black shirt in her cold hands and surveys it a little, like she had to make sure it was up to par with her outfit standards. When she deems it clean enough, she shrugs off her jacket and tosses it across the hood of Malachai’s car. 

“What’re you — oh” He stutters as Ruthie peels the coffee-stained material up and over her head, using the clean fabric to pat at her bare, sticky skin. It’s cold enough outside that goosebumps erupt over Ruthie’s flushed chest, and Malachai finds himself blushing, turning away and averting his eyes to give her some privacy as she re-dresses (though he couldn’t help but take note of her sharp collarbones and her meager black bra).

Just as Ruthie goes to thank Malachai for the shirt and the cigarette, or to laugh and comment about how the material tented on her much smaller frame, but she’s interrupted from a strained sounding voice from across the parking lot. 

“What the hell are you two doing?” Dante calls out as he walks closer, the anger in his voice palpable.

“It’s not what it looks like Dante, chill out” Ruthie rolls her eyes, putting her jacket back on and leaning against the front end of Malachai’s old car. 

“Then what is it, Ruth, cause it looks like you’re out here skipping class and stripping down to damn near nothing!” Dante raises his eyebrows as he gestures wildly at Ruthie. She could tell that he was biting back some venomous comment about how she was hanging out with him of all people, but her patience for Dante’s short temper was already wearing thin. 

Malachai can’t help but chuckle in response as he hears Ruthie’s sigh of exasperation, so he waves his hand graciously between her and Dante. “Allow me to explain,” He clears his throat, stepping closer to Dante with a smirk, knowing that his presence did nothing but keep Dante on edge. “It was rather careless of me, you see, this morning I was so caught in up my own thoughts and feelings that I accidentally plowed straight into our friend Ruthie here, taking out her shirt and my morning coffee in the process” Malachai pulls his pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket and takes a dramatic pause to light it. 

“Our friend?” Dante repeats, looking over to Ruthie as if he needed confirmation that what he heard was true. Ruthie shrugs…If Malachai said that they were friends, she guessed that they were friends. 

“It was all my fault, really, so I just thought the gentlemanly thing to do in this scenario would be to offer her an apology cigarette.” Malachai pays no attention to Dante’s small outburst, or if he did notice it, he just didn’t care. 

“That don’t explain what you’re doing stripping in the fuckin’ parking lot…” Dante looked over at Ruthie with narrowed eyes. 

“He felt bad about spilling so he’s letting me borrow a shirt.”

“Huh…” Dante laughed, low and mean sounding. “Didn’t know you and Malachai were good enough friends to be sharing clothes and shit.” 

“Seems like there’s a lot you don’t know these days.”

Something had been tense between Dante and Ruthie lately, like they were tectonic plates converging and pushing against one another until something catastrophic happened. The tension had been building for weeks now; Dante had been blowing off school more often than not, running errands for the Serpents who were sinking their teeth further and further into him and as a result of that, he’d been short with Ruthie lately, if he even bothered to hang out with her at all. Hell, this so-called friendship with Malachai only blossomed when Ruthie’s friends ditched her at the homecoming game, letting her sit alone under the bleachers while Dante slunk around with his new Serpent buddies, doing god-knows-what. 

Ruthie opens her mouth to answer but is cut off by the long, drawn-out sound of the school bell ringing, signaling the end of the class period. She spent more time outside with Malachai than she thought she did. “Saved by the bell” She sneers, her face unreadable as she locks eyes with Dante for a tense moment. 

“Well, before we all go on our merry way” Malachai pipes up, blissfully immune to the budding tension between the two friends, “My friends and I are having another one of our get-togethers this weekend…Ruthie, you should come.” He smiles, wry and cat-like. Dante doesn’t like the way that he looks at her, but Ruthie knows that boys always looked at girls that way, saw them as supple flesh to sink their sharp teeth into. 

“She’s busy” Dante says, at the exact same time Ruthie says,

“I’ll be there.”

The two of them whip their heads around to look at each other, eyes blown wide. Malachai chuckles and shakes his head, his curls falling into his eyes. “You can give me my shirt back when I see you on Friday” He begins his retreat back towards the school building. “If anyone asks…you’re with me” Malachai calls out over his shoulder, unable to feel Dante’s hard eyes baring into the back of his head. 

[n0-eyedtaissa]

Five Long Days (Serpent Siblings!AU)

A/N: In follow up to Christmas Kids, the day after the Southside kids have themselves a Christmas party, Ruthie and Romeo wake up before anyone else and need a caffeine fix in order to quell the hangover. They share more than just breakfast and coffee, and are both counting down the days until New Years. (featuring literally all of @hughstheforcelou​‘s OCs)

Word Count: 3,028

The day after Christmas was a testament to how fast everything had the ability to change. None of the radio stations in town played any more Christmas music. All of the storefronts were abandoning their themed displays and the flashy, holiday tackiness. All across town families were discarding crumpled wrapping paper and big cardboard boxes that shiny new toys came in, beginning to repack decorations back into the plastic storage tubs to be pushed away into the rafters for the next eleven months. It was as if when the clock struck midnight on December 25, the fog was lifted and the harsh reality of the real world sank back in unclouded. Usually, the day after Christmas felt disappointing, a let-down after all of the build-up from the weeks before. This morning, though, was quite the opposite of disappointing.

Romeo Fogarty wakes up with a sharp pain emanating in his temples and when he squints his eyes open, it takes him a minute to realize where he’s at. The pillow that his head is pressed into smells clean, like cheap laundry detergent and lavender scented shampoo. The blankets are warm but not scratchy and old-feeling like the one’s in Abuela’s guest room. The curtains over the window are gauzy and paper thin, doing little to stop the bright morning sun from streaming inside. He tries his best to blink away the sleep and rub away the sandpaper feeling from his lukewarm eyes. His joints ache from being bent at odd angles to compensate for his height and his awkward frame against Ruthie’s, trying to keep as respectable of a distance as one could manage with the two of them tangled in her full size bed. They didn’t kiss last night or even touch, but it was something different. It would always be something different between the two of them. Romeo closes his eyes and wills himself to go back to sleep just a little bit longer to savor the moment, but like most things, sleep never comes easy when forced. He tries not to move too much and wake Ruthie up, rolling onto his back carefully and continuing his survey of the surroundings because Romeo realizes he’s never been inside her room. In the year and a half that he’d known Ruthie, he’d only known her bedroom as the second door on the right, a frame that she ducked through here and there to grab extra blankets or her glass pipe. Ruthie’s room is simple and it looks like it hasn’t really been redecorated since she was a kid. Romeo liked it, though. Thought it felt right for her. The comforter on the bed was purple and printed with flowers and there were more than enough pillows for the two of them. There’s a white wicker dresser that’s covered in what Romeo would call “typical girl stuff”: strewn clothes, Ruthie’s favorite pair of heart-shaped sunglasses, bright-colored bottles of lotions and sprays and polishes. There’s a bookshelf piled high with books and mix cds stacked in their colorful jewel cases — probably all of the ones she made for Spyder — Romeo thought, even though he didn’t like that he did. 

Romeo slept in his jeans last night, not wanting to do anything to make Ruthie uncomfortable. His belt buckle has been digging into his skin for hours now and Romeo finally decided to do something about it, holding his breath and doing a barrel roll out of Ruthie’s bed, pulling the purple blanket closer around her shoulders. Romeo stands in the middle of the room for a moment, taking it all in, not knowing the next time Ruthie would open her doors to him. There’s a long piece of string tacked to the wall with pictures clothes pinned to it, Romeo steps closer and investigates, rubbing his eyes: There’s  picture of young Ruthie and who Romeo could only assume was her dad, sitting in one of the booths at Pop’s, blowing out candles on a birthday cake. There’s a handful of pictures of Ruthie and Sweet Pea, a picture of Ruthie and little Queenie showing off their orange-peel smiles on the sidelines of a junior league soccer game. Romeo likes one picture specifically. He doesn’t know who was the one to take it because Ruthie, Dante, Spyder, and CD are all in the picture…a rare and momentous occasion. Ruthie’s head is tilted back and she’s laughing, her eyes crinkled like Dante had just told one of his shitty jokes. In the picture Ruthie looked carefree, comfortable, and unworried. Romeo wondered about the last time she smiled like that. Stopping in front of the bedroom door, Romeo takes a look at Ruthie who’s fast asleep, her hair covering her face and her mouth open only a little, and he feels a sort of deep tug in his chest but pushes it away as he turns the doorknob quietly, leaving her to sleep. 

“Bro! Oh no you fuckin’ didn’t!” CD whisper-shouts from his spot on the ratty green couch as he watches Romeo make his way up the hall. Romeo puts is finger to his lips to signal to be quiet but it’s no use because soon CD was rolling out question after question. 

“You dirty dog!” CD whisper-shouts again, smacking at one of the deflated couch cushions with an excited palm. “Man I’d like to be a fly on that wall!” 

Romeo rolls his eyes, “Watch your mouth, nothing even happened, fool!” He smacks CD’s leg as he sits down on the carpet with his back resting against the couch. There’s a baggie of weed on the table, leftover from their little event the night before, so Romeo starts breaking it up with his fingers so he can roll a joint. 

“They always say nothing happened when something actually happened” CD wriggles his eyebrows suggestively but Romeo is adamant. 

“Nothing happened, dude, be respectful” 

“Man she likes you, you know that right?” 

Romeo raises an eyebrow. “How do you know that, she say something?” He tries not to sound as eager as he feels but it’s obvious, especially to CD. 

“She ain’t gotta say shit, you can see it on her face, man” CD explains “I’ve known that girl for years and she doesn’t act like that with just anyone.” 

Romeo wants to ask like what, not being able to see these things since he hadn’t been around long enough, but instead he asks again, “How do you know?” 

“I’ve tried that door like a million times, man, that shit’s been locked…”

“Will the two of you shut the fuck up!” Spyder squints one of his eyes open and chucks a rolled-up sock at CD’s head before closing his eyes again, his hands folded over his chest as he laid back in the reclining chair. 

Romeo chuckles softly and goes back to rollin up his morning joint. The clock on the wall tells him that it’s finally nine o’clock and his stomach rumbles as if on command, he was in dire need of some breakfast and his morning coffee. Spyder falls back to sleep and so does CD, Dante’s such a deep sleeper that a hurricane couldn’t wake him up so he didn’t even budge to begin with. Soon the living room is quiet again, the only noises being the idle sounds of steady breathing and the occasional car horn or bird sound from outside. Time seems to move slower that morning, as though time stopped after Christmas and the five of them had yet to catch up. Romeo doesn’t know how long he was sitting on the floor in front of the couch, could’ve been twenty minutes but it could’ve been an hour. Yet still, sometime after he hears the doorknob turn. 

Ruthie is still wearing her tights and her socks from last night, though she elected to trade her hand-sewn party dress for something more comfortable. Her big sweatshirt dwarves her frame and Romeo can’t help but think she looks cute with that sleepy look in her eyes. “Morning” she mumbles, like she was surprised that Romeo was awake. 

“Morning, Shorty” Romeo smiles and tucks his tightly rolled joint behind his ear for later.  “Sleep okay?” Ruthie nods noncommittally and looks around the living room to survey for any open spots she could sit in. Spyder was snoring in the recliner, Dante was sprawled out on the love seat with his long legs bent over the side, and CD was taking up all of the space on the big couch. 

Romeo gets up quickly, “You hungry? Angel’s definitely at the coffee shop by now, lemme buy you breakfast.” It wasn’t really a question — he wasn’t going to take no for an answer even though he knew that Ruthie was more than capable of paying for herself. It wasn’t that he was trying to buy her affections, Romeo simply wanted to spend more time with her that wasn’t clouded by knowing glances and the immature comments from his cousin and their friends.

Ruthie is quiet for a second, half drowsy and contemplating. She looks down at her sock covered feet and then back up at Romeo, “What about these guys, though?”

Romeo kisses his teeth and waves a noncommittal hand, “These fools sleep like they’re dead, I guarantee you we could leave and come back and they’d all still be out cold.” Ruthie cracks a sleepy smile because she knew Romeo was right. “Go grab a jacket, Ruth, it’s cold out…” 

Ruthie and Romeo bundle up in their puffy winter jackets soon Ruthie is pulling the front door closed quietly behind them, trying not to disturb the three boys still sleeping inside. The two of them make their way down the front steps of the house and hold onto each other as they try not to slip on the icy gravel in the driveway. It feels eerily silent outside and the cold only made it more apparent. That false sense of warmth that the holidays can bring on was starting to fade, and by the stroke on midnight on New Year’s Eve, anything left of that so-called holiday magic would be gone without a trace. The December air is the kind of cold that stings their noses as they inhale and Ruthie finds herself taking the corner of her sweatshirt sleeve to dab at the corner of her watery eyes. Neither one of them say a word until they’re outside the confines of Sunnyside Trailer Park, as if everyone in the neighborhood had their ears pressed to the doors waiting to hear their secrets. 

“Remember that thing I said yesterday, Shorty?” Romeo pipes up, slowing his pace in order to compensate for Ruthie’s shorter legs. 

“Which part?” Sure a lot of word were exchanged between Ruthie and Romeo yesterday at the Christmas party, but even more was left unsaid.

“About, you know…” Romeo feels his face heat up as he finds himself shying away from an honest declaration of his feelings. It felt more real today, like it held more weight. Last night things felt easy because it was Christmas and they were carefree and happy and under the influence of more than just the Christmas spirit. Romeo sighs and decides to spit it out: “About me thinking you’re pretty and like…wanting to do something about that.”

Ruthie stops in her tracks, smirking at she shields her eyes in order to look up at him. “And what do you think you’re gonna do about that, Fogarty?” Ruthie hopes that she sounds flirtatious but she thinks it might’ve actually come across as mean. 

He smiles down at her and thinks for a second. “I don’t really know yet, Shorty but I think I’ma start with this” Romeo reaches for her hand and interlocks his fingers with her own. Ruthie squeezes his hand and they keep walking. “That okay?” 

“Definitely okay”

They hold hands for the entire rest of the walk to the coffee shop although neither one of them were talking all that much. Silence was comfortable between Ruthie and Romeo, they didn’t feel the need to fill the empty spaces in conversations only for the sake of talking. It sounded cheesy to admit, but it felt like the two of them were on the same wavelength; always somehow able to understand one another without having to say anything. Romeo opens the door for Ruthie like always but this time it feels different. Both of them are painfully aware of the fact that Angel Abrejo is staring at their entwined hands from under the dorky visor he had to wear while he was working.

“Looks like the Christmas party was pretty exciting?” Angel raises his eyebrow and Romeo’s neck gets hot. 

“You could say that” Ruthie laughs and squints at the menu above his head. She didn’t need to look at the menu, she’d been a consistent enough presence at the coffee shop that she already had her usual…she just didn’t want to meet Angel’s gaze right now. Angel had been finding reasons to push the two of them together since they met and neither one of them wanted to give him the satisfaction of an I told you so.

“All right man, lemme get a large black coffee and a slice of that banana bread…and I assume Shorty over here wants her usual?” Romeo smirks down at Ruthie, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand. 

Ruthie gives an emphatic nod yes and Angel looks at both of them like he’s on the verge of throwing up. Romeo takes his coffee with no milk but lots of sugar and Ruthie crinkles her nose in distaste as he pours another sugar packet in his ceramic mug. He laughs at her and steals a bite from one half of her chocolate chip bagel. The two of them finish their breakfast and leave the coffee shop feeling more energized and much less hungover. Both Ruthie and Romeo were unofficial caffeine addicts who weren’t afraid to admit it — that was another thing they had in common. 

They don’t say it out loud but they both start heading the long way home. Romeo remembers the joint he has tucked behind his ear and retrieves it and his lighter, sparking it up and handing it to Ruthie who politely declines. 

“Sometimes, when I get too high I think people can’t hear me so I start talking really loud…” She shrugs, somewhat sheepish. 

Romeo laughs loudly, puffing away, “Believe me Ruth, I’ve realized.” Ruthie shoves him playfully and Romeo runs a few steps away from her, whooping as he bobs and weaves out of her arms reach. 

Ruthie runs after him, giggling, and suddenly it’s a full blown race: Romeo’s holding onto his belt as he runs, his puffy jacket billowing out behind him as he tried to catch up to Ruthie a few paces ahead of him. She may be skinny but she’s fast, her freshman year of high school Ruthie was almost a star of the girls track team before it lost its funding. Shortly thereafter she decided to dedicate more of her time to smoking cigarettes and consuming her weight in french fries from Pop’s. Ruthie might have been out of running shape but she wasn’t going to lose to Romeo. Her lungs are burning because of the cold air and she can feel her breakfast churning in her stomach but she looks over her shoulder and keeps running all the way to the street corner Ignacio’s bodega was on, smiling the entire time.

“Jesus—“ Romeo leans over and puts his hands on his knees as he regulates his breathing, “—why did I do this — I hate running!” He wheezes and Ruthie laughs, pushing her windswept hair out of her face. 

“It’s not your fault, the oxygen is much thinner up there” She winks, joking about his height. Ruthie’s about a head shorter than Romeo but she’s all long, skinny legs. 

“Yeah, maybe that’s it” 

They sit on the front steps of Ignacio’s and catch their breath, taking a moment to sit and pet the bodega cats. Ruthie gives them scratches behind their ears and Romeo tries his best not to sneeze. Ruthie holds Romeo’s hand hight as she pulls him up from the stairs now that he’s caught his breath and they continue their way home, wondering how much damage they would be met with having left Dante, CD, and Spyder unsupervised for a handful of hours. 

The two of them stop short in front of the Sunnyside Trailer Park sign and Ruthie looks over at Romeo, confused. 

“You know I wanna kiss you, right Shorty?” Romeo sighs. He’s nervous for lots of reasons. One being that he’s never kissed a girl before and he doesn’t wanna fuck it up somehow, the other being that he was nervous about overstepping Ruthie’s boundaries or taking her too far out of her comfort zone. Hell, it had taken them a year and a half to even hold hands, how long would it take for something like that to happen if both of them were too scared to be honest and make a move. 

“Really?” Ruthie was just as nervous as he was. 

“Yeah…is that okay?” Romeo asks and Ruthie nods in response, taking his hand. Definitely okay. “I know you don’t like surprises so I wanted to tell you and all.”

Ruthie quirks up an eyebrow at him. “Okay…so are you gonna do it?”

Romeo’s face heats up. “Well, uh, not now, no—” he sputters, feeling thrown off guard. “cause I just told you it was gonna happen and like, I dunno. Gotta let the tension build…”

“Oh-kay” Ruthie says with bemusement, pulling Romeo into the grid-work labyrinth of trailers and motorhomes. 

“I’m gonna kiss you on New Years, Shorty, just you wait” Romeo smiles at her, pulling her closer to him and slinging his arm around her shoulder. 

“That’s a whole five days away!” She protests.

“Tension, Shorty. Gotta build some tension!” Both of them would find those five days to be the longest ever.