ꪜꪖꪶꫀꪀꪻ꠸ꪀꪖ ᥫ᭡.
ꪜꪖꪶꫀꪀꪻ꠸ꪀꪖ ᥫ᭡.
"Aye! If you guys aren't up in cinco minutos, I'm not making any breakfast for anybody!" Valentina shouts from the kitchen, the smell of sizzling eggs wafting through the air. She glances at the clock, her stomach churns with a mix of stress and determination. She's already stressed out enough, and her three younger sisters aren't making it easier for her. She has community college in less than an hour, if she's late to class again—she didn't want to finish the thought. Frustrated, Valentina grabs a pot and a wooden spoon, her heart racing as she storms over to their bedroom. With a determined swing, she starts aggressively hitting the spoon against the pot, the loud clanging ringing throughout the house.
"¡Órale!" she shouts louder, standing on top of the mattress Sofia and Isabela were carelessly sleeping on.
“¡Callarse la boca!” Sofia groans, burying her face deeper into the pillow, a clear protest against the morning. “Why are we even getting up this early?”
Valentina snatches the pillow from Sofia’s head, tossing it across the room with a cheeky grin. “Because you have school today, fresa. Don’t make me smack you with this spoon,” she threatens, a playful glint in her eyes even as irritation simmers beneath the surface.
Charleigh, the youngest, giggles quietly, shaking Valentina’s phone teasingly. “¡Se lo voy a decir a mamá! If she finds out you’re not getting your allowance this month, you’ll be sorry!”
“¡Perra!” Valentina shoots back, chasing after Charleigh as she darts around the room, sticking out her tongue. As laughter fills the air, Valentina can’t help but feel a twinge of guilt for being the tough one. She wished mornings didn’t feel this chaotic, but it was up to her to keep the family together in a world that sometimes felt too big and overwhelming.
Valentina snatches her phone back as she slides it in her jean pocket, noticing the stain on her pants, she groaned. She was definitely going to be late again. "Charleigh, por favor, get ready please. I don't have much time—"
The smoke alarm suddenly starts beeping as Valentina curses under her breath, grabbing a dirty rag from the floor and immediately trying to sway away the smoke. Charleigh rushes over and turns off the stove as the eggs are burnt. "Está bien, Valentina. Puedo comer en la escuela. It's not a big deal, really."
"Gracias, Charleigh." Valentina says while still swaying the rag around. "Now, go to the bathroom."
Charleigh rushes to the bathroom as Valentina peeks in Sofia's and Isabela's room, as they slowly start to get ready. Valentina exhales as the alarm stops beeping and the house is finally in control.
"Look, I'm leaving," Valentina calls out. "Sofia and Isabela, make sure to walk Charleigh to school, and por favor, please make dinner. I'm going to run late today."
"Okay," Sofia calls out.
"Gracias!" Valentina says as she grabs her car keys and mini tote pack as she rushes out the door and immediately gets inside her 2000 Toyota Corolla, praying that the car would start. She pulls down the vanity mirror and takes a good look at her current appearance. She barely had time to apply her makeup—a quick swipe of dark red eyeshadow that clung to her lids and a bold red lipstick that felt daring against her skin. She wore her mother’s old white, pink and blue flannel shirt, faded from countless washings until the colors had softened to a delicate pastel. The flannel was unbuttoned, layered over a white tank top she had secretly borrowed from Isabela that morning. Her jeans, overdue for a wash and worn for two weeks, sported two small holes and a stubborn stain, giving her a slightly rebellious look that matched the chaotic start to her day.
She almost shoves the key into the ignition as the car gives a weak sound in response, realizing that once again—her car was out of gas. "¡Esto es ridículo! ¡Este estúpido coche! ¡Si le eché gasolina el otro día!" Valentina yells out as she slams her head against the steering wheel.
"Excuse me, do you mind? You are causing disturbance."
Her neighbor, Catherine, was the last person she wanted to hear from. Ever since Valentina moved in with her sisters five months ago, Catherine has always found new ways to report them to the HOA or find excuses to yell at them. Valentina runs a hand back to her air-dried hair as she inhales, her nostrils flaring. She turns to face Catherine, who was in flip-flops and swimsuits, assuming she was going to go to the swim club. "My apologies." Valentina murmurs as she gets out of the car. "No todas son tan estiradas como tú."
"What was that? No hablo Spanish." She says in a way that was ear racking and insulting.
"It means have a good day." Valentina lies as she hopes into her bike.
"Right, because not all of us...." Valentina ignored sound of her neighbor’s voice droning on about how “those Colombians” were always finding ways to get by without putting in an honest day’s work.
“Why don’t you get a real job?” she sneered, his arms crossed tightly. “You know, instead of whatever it is you all do in that house all day? And yes, I heard your smoke alarm go off today as well."
The weight of her words hung heavy in the air, and Valentina’s heart raced with frustration. She knew she were working hard—juggling school, side gigs, and trying to carve out a new life in a foreign country—but how could she explain that to someone so entrenched in her narrow view? She felt a surge of anger and pride, knowing that despite what her thought, she and her sisters were doing everything they could to succeed.
"Not that if it's any of your business, I do have a job." Valentina says, looking directly at her. "And maybe I should report you to the HOA for harassing my sisters and I, and I know that doesn't look good for you." Her voice, on the verge of breaking, she tries her best not to project her accent and keep herself calm, even though she feels like running back inside and crying.
"You can't do that. What side would they take? An illegal immigrant or a woman who's respected in the community?"
Valentina biked off before Catherina could say another word, the tears slowly running down her face.
The time Valentina got to the community college, she was already a half-an hour late for her class, and the last thing she wanted to hear was Professor Aimee Brimm give her another lecture about her commitment as a student.
Did no one see Valentina as committed?
Valentina rushes to the nearest bathroom and she surveys her face in the mirror. Thank god she didn't wear mascara today—her face would've looked a lot worse. Maybe she might have something in her makeup bag that can over the bags under her eyes—
"You know your late to class, right?"
Valentina's head perked up at the voice, and it was a girl she occasionally seen in the hallway.
"Right, I know." she says, her voice wobbling. She swore she heard her accent almost slip out, Valentina was praying she secretly didn't notice.
"Hey, are you okay?"
Valentina, for once, sagged her shoulders and wiped her eyes on her sleeve, ignoring the red smudge. "N-no."
The girl didn't say anything at first, and Valentina could feel the heat rise to her cheeks. This was so embarrassing. "I'm sorry, I should go—" she says while cluttering all of her things together. Valentina stuffed everything in her bag as she hurried to class, almost tripping on the stairs.
The time Valentina reached her class, it was mid-lecture as they were reviewing last night's homework. "Now," Professor Brimm starts as she walks around. "Based on last night’s homework and yesterday’s lecture, it’s essential that we take skin analysis seriously in our practice. I expect everyone to demonstrate proficiency in assessing different skin types and conditions during today’s practical exercises."
Valentina finds a seat in the middle row as she tries to grab her notes out. Her hand writing was a bit sloppy, but she didn't mind. Majority of her response was in Spanish anyway.
"Can someone please tell me about a skin type assessed?" Professor Brimm asks, her eyes darting towards the students. Next to her, a hand was raised. Valentina took a glance at him and realized he was a new student. He was casually leaning back in his chair, one arm draped over the backrest, which showcased his toned bicep. His dark hair fell softly to one side, accentuating the graceful curve of his neck.
"Ah yes, Mr. Murillo, is it? Do you mind telling the class your findings? I understand you had to do it on short notice."
"It's no big deal." Murillo says with a casualness that tripped Valentina up a bit. Eventually, he started talking, as Valentina caught a glimpse of his relaxed demeanor, the way his shoulders rolled back naturally, giving him an air of confidence. The subtle movements revealed a blend of strength and approachability that made it hard for her to look away. She had no idea why she was staring at him—she knew she had to pay attention, but she wondered if he'd notice—
A familiar throat sound made Valentina look directly at Professor Brimm, almost alarmed. "Ms. López. A word?" Professor Brimm says, her focus is straight at her. Valentina begrudgingly got up from her seat, as she made her way down the stairs, she pretended she didn't hear someone point out the obvious stain on her pants.
"Ms. López," Professor Brimm said in a hushed tone. "For starters, you need to show up to class on time. This tardiness is unacceptable and you know that."
"Yes, Professor. It's just there's a lot going on at home—" Valentina starts.
"And you said the same excuse the last time, Ms. López. Not to mention, you haven't taken your bar exam yet nor paid for your tuition. President Villarreal needs to see you in her office after class. She has letter she needs to give you and to discuss personal matters."
"Understood." Valentina whispers.
"Now, this tardiness is impacting your grade, Ms. López. And I'm afraid if you cannot pass this class, you're going to have to retake my class again next semester. Now, if you are available, Ms. López, I don't mind doing extra classes. If you want to stay after reteaching, I can be happy to help." Professor Brimm offers a small smile.
"As much as I'd love to have those classes, I can't. I have work after college—"
"Understood." Professor Brimm cuts off. "Please return to your seat."
Valentina sighs as she makes her way back, ignoring the snickers from the students.
"Valentina, right?" A smooth voice said, and to her attention, it was the boy she was staring at.
"Y-yeah. Valentina López." she says while sitting down, trying to not make it awkward.
"Ramón Murillo. I just recently moved."
¿Hablas español?" Valentina asks, curiosity and hope behind her question.
"Un poco. I didn't grow up learning much Spanish." he says without looking at her.
"Oh? Where are you—"
"And that's all the time we have for today. Everyone, make sure to do the assignment for homework and I'll see you tomorrow." Professor Brimm announces.
Just as Valentina was about to leave, Ramón got her attention again.
"By the way, Colombia. And I hope I see you tomorrow, Ms. López." he says, flashing a dimple.
"Yo también, señor Murillo." Valentina whispers as she leaves the room, her heart still beating.
