noelia and ramon

I heard everything.  Almost every word of Ramon’s scolding.  How he didn’t turn soft even though she was crying.  The chair scraping the floor.  The hard and fast handspanking mixed with Caro’s yelps.  Then every swat with the paddle.  By that time I was squirming in my own seat, hearing how bad it was for her, knowing it was about to be worse for me.  Because fucking Emilio had to leave me stranded and I couldn’t just come back home like expected.  I was going to spank him for that!  

When the paddling stopped, I began chewing on my fingernail, thumping my leg, because I knew I was next.  I suddenly was really interested in what the cop on duty was saying on his phone call.  There were soft mutterings in the punishment room, which I knew was Ramon giving her a final hug while she sobbed into his chest.  And then…

The doorknob clicked and the door squeaked open.  Caro emerged first, hands on her bottom, face stained with tears, hair matted to her forehead, eyes all red and puffy.  Yikes.

Ramon poked his head out.  “Noelia,” he bellowed in his best authoritative dad-cop voice. 

I jumped slightly in my chair as Caro sniffled, shuffling towards me, easing down on the bench.  

“Let’s go,” Ramon urged, standing to the side so I could go inside.

callie

i couldn't get into writing Joeie because of her age... like it felt fine to think about, but any time I tried to write anything, it felt weird.  But I wanted to keep Jeremy and Justin because... a part of me does want to be Joeie, I just can't write about it in the same way these days.  So I decided to figure out a happy medium... a grad school student who eventually wants to be treated like a little sister.  

x-x-x

The phone call came only a few hours after I arrived alone at my new grad school home in New Jersey (as far away from my hometown as I could get).  It was from my social work fieldwork advisor, and her tone gave away the bad news before she could break it to me.  

“Sorry, Callie, they weren’t able to approve your request.  You’ll have to find a different field placement.”

I let out an exasperated groan.  I’d found the perfect nonprofit to work with, where I’d be able to use my Spanish skills to help immigrants.  The problem was that the supervisor wasn’t a licensed social worker, so couldn’t sign off on my internship hours.  FML.  Now there wouldn’t be much left.

“Maybe I have another opportunity you’d be interested in.  You’ll also be able to work with the Spanish-speaking population, helping out with, like, domestic disputes.”

Why did this start sounding like an episode of Cops?  “What do you mean?  I don’t really want to do therapy…”

weekend trip

I decided to go a different direction with this but... this is where i started 🥰

x-x-x

Caro came to get Noelia and me from the university, where we were doing homework (AKA hanging out and gossiping).  Before she opened her mouth, I knew something was wrong.

“Ramon came into the shop and wants to talk with all of us.”

Noelia scrunched up her nose.  “Ramon?  Why? What does he want?” 

“He didn’t say but I think…”

“Don’t jinx it!” I said, but it was too late.

“... he knows.”

“Fuuuuuuck,” Noelia said, and I could see her heart dropping to her stomach.  “What are we gonna do?”