A/N: Been a while, huh? Last chapter was what, a month ago? Time flies by crazy; mainly due to work 😢. Also, on a different note, I finally tried RDR2 Online, and it is good; but players were right, it has the potential for a lot more. You can get bored pretty quickly though; I can have fun with grinding for about 1-5 hours before getting bored. It may sound like a lot, but I can play the story mode for a lot more.
Alex is tucked under Marco's arm, a bowl of popcorn between them as some true crime documentary plays on the TV. It's a standard, lazy afternoon.
The peace is shattered when the front door swings open and Malik struts in like he's on a catwalk.
Alex pauses the show. Malik strikes a pose in the doorway, hands on his hips.
"Aight. Be honest. How do I look?"
He's wearing a pair of crisp, dark-wash baggy jeans, a stark black button-up shirt—the collar neatly open—and a pair of blindingly white Air Force 1s. He looks good. Clean, put-together, like he's trying to make a serious impression.
Marco, however, takes one look and slowly sits up, his face a mask of pure, unadulterated horror. He lets out a low whistle.
"Whoa. Hold up. What… what is that?"
Malik's confident smile falters. "What? It's clean!"
"Clean? Mijo, you look like you're about to sell me a bible and a dime bag at the same time."
Alex snorts, quickly covering her mouth with her hand.
"Man, what are you talking about? This is classy!"
"Classy? You look like a Christian gangbanger! What's the plan? You gonna recite Psalms before you jack my ride?" He stands up and circles Malik, inspecting him like a flawed piece of art. "That shirt, bro. That shirt is screaming 'I got this from the "Young Men's Fellowship" rummage sale.' You missing a tie with a little cross on it?"
"It's a button-up! It's what you wear on a date!"
"A date with who? The pastor's daughter? 'Excuse me, sister, may I politely escort you to the ice cream social after evening service?'" Marco's voice goes high-pitched and mock-polite.
Alex is now fully laughing, tears welling in her eyes. "Marco, stop," she wheezes, meaning the exact opposite.
"I can't stop! The people need to know! And the shoes! The pristine, never-touched-grass AF1s! You look like you're gonna ask her to sign a pledge of abstinence before you hold hands."
Malik, defeated, throws his hands up. "You know what? Forget I asked. Your fashion sense is a hoodie and grease stains."
"At least I look like myself! You look like you're undercover as a really conflicted youth group leader! 'Lord, forgive me for these impure thoughts… but shawty fine.'"
Malik shakes his head, but a grin is finally breaking through his exasperation. "You're the worst, man."
Marco slings an arm around his friend's shoulders. "Nah, I'm the best. I'm saving you. Go upstairs. Grab my gray Henley. Trust me. You'll thank me when you're not getting side-eyed all night."
As Malik trudges upstairs, muttering, Marco plops back down next to Alex, looking immensely pleased with himself.
Alex, wiping her eyes, shakes her head. "You are brutal."
"That's what friends are for, mami. Can't let my boy out there looking like he's auditing a Sunday school class." He grabs a handful of popcorn. "Now, unpause it. I wanna see if this guy actually did it."
Alex hits play, leaning her head on his shoulder.
———
The Dunphy minivan pulled up to Jay's impeccably manicured house. Today, however, the vibe was different. There was a live wire in the car.
"Okay, ground rules," Claire said, turning in the passenger seat to face Marco in the back. "No loud music, no calling anyone 'pendejo,' and for the love of God, do not bring up anything related to raccoons."
Marco, who was wearing a surprisingly clean polo shirt, grinned. "Relax, Mrs. D. I got this. I'm on my best behavior." He winked at Alex, who immediately felt a wave of anxiety.
As they filed into the house, the usual Pritchett-Dunphy awkwardness ensued. Jay gave a gruff hello, Manny offered a theatrical handshake, and Gloria enveloped everyone in perfumed hugs.
Then she saw Marco.
Her eyes lit up like Christmas morning. "Mijo! You came!" she exclaimed, bypassing Alex completely to pull Marco into a hug.
"¿Qué tal, Gloria? This place is nice," Marco said, looking around the lavish foyer with genuine appreciation.
"Ay, sí, es demasiado grande para mí," Gloria waved a hand dismissively, but she was beaming. "Pero Jay lo quiere."
Jay watched the exchange, his eyebrows creeping toward his hairline. "You two know each other?"
"We met at the mall! He has good taste," Gloria said, looping her arm through Marco's. Alex stood there, feeling strangely invisible.
The group moved to the living room. Manny tried to steer the conversation to his latest arthouse film project, but Marco's attention was locked on the wall of windows overlooking the backyard.
"Whoa. Is that a Laguna Luxe pool? The 'Estate Series'?" Marco asked, his voice full of genuine awe.
A silence fell over the room. Phil blinked. Claire stared. Alex's jaw went slack.
Jay, however, slowly put down his whiskey. "You know pools?"
"Know 'em? My tío Pedro installs 'em. That's the one with the built-in ozone filtration, right? Not the standard chlorine. Smart. Smells better."
Jay looked at Marco as if seeing him for the first time. "That's right. The chlorine system is for amateurs."
A connection had been made. Alex watched in disbelief as the gruff exterior of her grandfather cracked by one percent.
The conversation then turned, as it often did at Jay's, to his business. "So, Alex says you're… what, a mechanic?" Jay asked, the question laced with his usual skepticism.
"Yes, sir. But let me tell you," Marco said, leaning forward conspiratorially. "The best-built thing I own? My closet. It's a Prichett's Closets. The 'Signature' line."
Jay's chest puffed out almost imperceptibly. "Is that so?"
"Claro que sí. Solid construction. The soft-close drawers? Perfecto." Marco's enthusiasm seemed completely real. "I was just thinking the other day, though… you know what would take it to the next level?"
Jay took a sip of his drink. "What's that?"
"A built-in aquarium. Right in the center island. So when I'm picking out my fit, I can vibe with some angelfish. You could call it the 'Prichett's Aqua-Collection' or something."
Manny looked horrified. Phil looked fascinated. Gloria cackled.
Jay didn't laugh. He studied Marco for a long moment, a slow grin spreading across his face. "An aquarium. In a closet."
"Think about it," Marco pressed. "It's a statement."
Jay gave a short, sharp bark of a laugh. "It's the dumbest thing I've ever heard." He paused. "I like it."
Claire looked like she was about to have an aneurysm. Alex just stared at Marco, this boy from South Central who could speak hood-rat with Malik, fluent Spanish with Gloria, and now, somehow, was talking high-end closet modifications with her millionaire grandfather.
Later, as they were leaving, Jay clapped Marco on the shoulder. "You're alright, kid. A little crazy, but alright."
In the car on the way home, the whole family was silent for a full minute.
Finally, Phil spoke up. "So… an aquarium in a closet. That's… a thing."
Marco, looking out the window, shrugged. "Hey, you gotta speak the man's language."
Alex reached over and took his hand, lacing her fingers through his. He might have been performing a little, but he'd won. He'd genuinely won.
"You," she whispered, "are unbelievable."
He brought her knuckles to his lips and kissed them. "I know, mami. I know."