The ATVs were finally parked, engines cooling as the four teens trudged over to a nearby hot dog stand, sandy, sweaty, and grinning. Alex's legs felt like jelly, but she couldn't deny the rush of adrenaline still buzzing through her.
"I'm starving," Malik announced, already digging into his wallet.
"Same," Javier agreed, nodding at the vendor.
Alex patted her pockets—then froze. "Oh. I don't have any money on me."
Marco waved her off. "I got you, mami." He tossed a few extra bills to the vendor. "Two dogs, extra jalapeños."
Alex raised an eyebrow. "How do you know I like jalapeños?"
Marco smirked. "Lucky guess."
They settled on a nearby bench, devouring the hot dogs in comfortable silence—until, out of nowhere, Marco suddenly set his food down, stood up, and—
"WHOA—"
—did a perfect backflip.
Alex nearly choked on her bite. "WHAT THE HELL?!"
Marco landed smoothly, dusted off his hands, and sat back down like nothing had happened, picking up his hot dog again.
Javier and Malik didn't even blink.
Alex gaped. "Did you just—why did you—what?!"
Marco took a bite, chewing thoughtfully. "Felt like it."
"That's not an answer!"
He swallowed, then grinned. "You impressed?"
"I'm concerned," Alex deadpanned.
Malik snorted. "Nah, that's just Marco. Dude's got, like, zero impulse control."
Javier nodded. "Once saw him do a cartwheel in the middle of a funeral."
Alex stared. "Please tell me you're joking."
Marco just shrugged. "It was a boring funeral."
After eating, they hopped back on the ATVs for one last round—this time with Marco inventing increasingly ridiculous games, like:
"Dodge the Seagull": Javier lost when a particularly brave bird dive-bombed his helmet.
"Who Can Ride the Longest with Their Eyes Closed": Malik won by default because Marco and Javier crashed into each other immediately.
"Let's See How Fast We Can Go Before Alex Screams": Alex won that one by screaming before they even moved.
Eventually, though, the sun climbed higher, and the beach started filling up. They loaded the ATVs back onto the trailer, exchanged fist bumps, and split ways—Javier and Malik heading off to who-knows-where, Marco and Alex back to his car.
For once, Marco drove like a normal human being—no screeching tires, no near-death experiences. Just the hum of the engine and the breeze through the cracked windows.
Alex leaned back in her seat, finally relaxing. "That was… actually kind of fun."
Marco shot her a sidelong glance. "Kind of? Mami, you were screaming like you were on a roller coaster."
"Because I was! You drive like a maniac!"
"Nah, that was controlled chaos."
Alex rolled her eyes but didn't argue. After a beat, she asked, "So where'd you learn to do a backflip, anyway?"
Marco grinned. "Juvie."
Alex blinked. "...What."
"Yeah, had a lot of free time. Learned backflips, card tricks, how to make ramen in a toilet—"
"OKAY, STOP."
Marco laughed, and Alex couldn't help but smile.
As they neared the house, Marco glanced at Alex.
"Wanna come to work with me?"
Alex frowned. "Why would I do that?"
He shrugged. "Why would you stay cooped up inside? To read a book?"
Alex opened her mouth—then closed it. Damn it.
Marco grinned. "That's what I like to hear! Glad you said yes."
"I didn't—"
But Marco was already pulling into the driveway, hopping out before she could protest. "Wait here!"
A minute later, he burst back out, tossing his work boots and uniform into the backseat. He also handed Alex her phone charger.
"You left this at the house," he said, as if that justified anything.
They had to stop at a gas station first. Marco pumped the fuel while Alex watched, arms crossed.
"You ever pumped gas before?" he asked.
"Of course I have," Alex said.
"Damn. There goes my next teaching moment."
Alex rolled her eyes.
Soon, they pulled into the auto shop—a sprawling garage filled with the scent of oil, rubber, and metal. The sign above read "Mendoza's Auto Repair" in faded letters.
Alex stepped out, taking in the rows of cars in various states of repair, the clang of tools, and the hum of engines being tested.
Marco locked the car, then led her inside.
As they walked through the garage, men of all ages—ranging from mid-20s to late-50s—looked up from their work.
Some grinned. "Ey, Marco! Who's the girl?"
Others groaned. "Oh God, Rivera brought company. We're all doomed."
Marco just smirked. "This is Alex. She's shadowing me today."
One of the older mechanics, wiping grease off his hands, raised an eyebrow. "She know anything about cars?"
Alex opened her mouth to say no, but Marco cut in.
"Nah, but she's smart. She'll figure it out."
Alex shot him a look. "You're really overestimating me."
Marco ignored her, slipping into his work boots and pulling the mechanic's jumpsuit over his clothes, only removing his hoodie. He nodded at a burly man in the corner—his boss, presumably.
"Hey, Jefe. Alex is hanging out here today."
The boss—Mendoza—just sighed, rubbing his temples. "Just don't break anything, Rivera."
Marco saluted. "No promises."
Alex stood awkwardly near the tool bench, unsure what to do. Marco noticed and waved her over to the car he was working on—a beat-up sedan with a smoking engine.
"Alright, mami, lesson one," he said, popping the hood. "This is an engine. It's supposed to not sound like a dying lawnmower."
Alex peered inside. "So what's wrong with it?"
Alex peered inside. "So what's wrong with it?"
Marco pointed. "See that belt? It's looser than my tía's gossip. And this spark plug? More like spark dud."
Despite his ridiculous explanations, Alex—being a genius—quickly pieced together the actual issues.
"So the timing belt is worn, and the spark plugs need replacing," she said.
Marco blinked. "Damn. You are smart."
"I told you."
He grinned. "Alright, genius, hand me the socket wrench."
Alex hesitated. "Which one's that?"
Marco gasped dramatically. "Oh, how the mighty have fallen!"
Alex shoved him. "Just tell me."
Over the next few hours, Marco:
"Accidentally" sprayed Alex with a tiny bit of oil, then pretended it was an honest mistake (it wasn't).
Taught her how to check the oil—by making her stick her finger in the dipstick and then laughing when she grimaced at the texture.
Got into a fake argument with a coworker about whether Fast & Furious was a documentary. Marco's stance: "Obviously.".
At one point, he even let her try tightening a bolt—only to "forget" to mention it was already as tight as it could go.
"You're impossible," Alex muttered after realizing the trick.
Marco just winked. "But you're learning."
And despite herself, Alex was.
By the end of the day, she could:
Identify a dead battery by the sound.
Change a spark plug (with minimal coaching).
Recognize when Marco was about to do something stupid (which was always).
As they packed up, Marco slung an arm around her shoulders. "See? Not so bad, right?"
Alex sighed. "It was... educational."
Marco grinned. "Next time, I'll teach you how to hotwire a car."
"THERE WON'T BE A NEXT TIME."