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Pepa grinned as she teased her brother, holding his chanclas just out of his reach. “Pepa, c’mon! Give them back! I can’t go outside without them!”
“Nope. Not until you apologize for eating my bun.” She dangled it above his fingers. Those few inches she got on him from her growth spurt really did matter.
“They’re not even yours! Julieta made them for all of us!” Jumping didn’t help, evidently.
“You took it right out of my hand, Bruno!”
“No I didn’t! I just grabbed it before you did. It’s not my fault you’re so slow,” He grumbled the last bit under his breath, but of course she heard him, and promptly smacked him over the head with the chancla. “Ow! What was that for? I’m right.”
She was about to retort before Julieta walked into the room, rolling her eyes, “Pepa, stop teasing. Bruno, stop being teased.” She snatched the chancla from Pepa’s grasp and shoved a bun into her mouth, ignoring her shocked protests and Bruno's furrowed brows. Julieta threw the chancla at Bruno’s foot, narrowly missing his toes. He jumped back with a shriek, glaring at them both before heading out the door, Casita generously slamming it for him.
“Did you really have to ruin my fun?” Pepa groaned, chewing her bun. “Bruno is my main source of entertainment around here.”
Julieta let out an amused huff. “That may be because you just don’t go outside. Socialize, Pepa! You might even find out you-” She paused to gasp conspiratorially, “Like it! How awful would that be?”
Pepa whined. “I don’t like the kids in this town! They always get all pissy when I make some weird weather thing. It’s not like I can control it.”
Julieta sighed, adopting a sympathetic smile and placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I know, Pepa. But you’ve seen how happy they are when you save us from drought or clear up the skies. Just try to play nice, okay?”
“Easy for you to say. They all love you. How’s it with your boyfriend, anyway? Antonio? Alphonse? Bet he adores your cooking.” Pepa leaned back against the counter, thoroughly miffed and determined to take it out on this delicious bun.
“Pepa.” Julieta’s tone turned firm, and Pepa winced at the familiarity. “I understand how you feel, but there’s no reason for you to be short with me. Just take a chance.” She moved towards the back door, “I’m going out. You should come with me, you could use the break.”
“I’ll think about it,” Pepa huffed as placatingly as her temper would allow. Julieta was kind, and well meaning, but she just didn’t get it. It never failed to frustrate her.
Julieta gave her a knowing look that said Pepa would be getting a scolding later, but relented as Casita closed the door behind her. Mama would be in town for a while, and Bruno was surely off in the forest, doing whatever he did in his alone time. She was all by herself. Again.
There was no mistaking how much Pepa loved her family and their individuality. Julieta was the sweetest person she had ever met, Bruno the cheesiest. Her Maman was tough as nails and stronger than anyone. When all their layers were shed, though, and there was only the core, it became clear that their gifts were what really defined them.
Bruno was constantly being asked obvious questions and blamed for the outcome he foretold. He was feared, treated like a higher being just because he had vague predictions of the future. Julieta was the kind of person who was beloved by all. They’d flock to her with the slightest papercut, and she’d whip up batches of muffins and buns late into the night to feed them all. She was practically a saint, in spirit and in mind.
Pepa, on the other hand, was like a ticking time bomb. She was fragile. They all tiptoed around her. If you angered her, beware, because you might be blown away by hurricane sized winds in the next moment. Keep her happy and thinking of clear skies.
When Pepa walked through the town, she was greeted with fake smiles and overly eager shopkeepers, desperate to please her and earn her goodwill. It was completely false, she knew, because the moment her mood turned slightly sour, they’d run. Terrified of getting wet.
When Julieta walked through the town, she was bombed with cheers and friendly, genuine greetings. Some kid would come up to her, limping, and she'd pull a pastry from her basket. Then more would follow, and Julieta would be given no reprieve as she fed each scraped, bruised, and crippled. She would never get it.
Sighing, Pepa pushed herself off of the counter, rolling her eyes at Casita’s assistance. “I’m fine,” Casita was apparently unimpressed, and rolled the tiles to shoo her out the door. “Have you been speaking with Julieta? I have ears all around the house, you know! I can get you back for this!” She yelled, even as she was rushed further and further from the house.
Pepa groaned, trying to run back into the house, but to no avail. Casita was staying firm, no matter how swiftly Pepa tried to step off of the walkway and enter through a window.
Eventually, she sighed, and turned back around to see what she could get up to in town. Casita made it quite clear she was not going to get back in the house anytime soon. Of course Casita would be canoodling with Julieta. The traitor. It was like they were setting her up for social rejection.
She patted through the town, brushing off the odd and suspicious looks she got from the townspeople. It was to be expected, and she was not unused to it. As she neared the town square, though, she noticed a group her age loitering by the fountain.
Julieta’s words rang through her mind. Pepa could socialize! She could make friends! She could be as popular as Julieta, feel loved by someone other than her family and the rats in the walls. It was her chance. That's what Julieta would say, anyway, with her hands full of finesse and charm. Pepa, on the other hand, seemed to have dropped hers by her sixth birthday. Nonetheless, she sighed and sucked it up. Casita wouldn't let her back into the house and Bruno could call her out on her lies and tattle to Julieta in a heartbeat.
With nothing better to do, Pepa walked up them as coolly as her uncomfortably lanky limbs would allow and put on her best smile, the one Mama said could woo any man. “Hey,” She greeted, “What’re you doing? Can I join?” Pepa was not certain that was how one would normally integrate themself into conversation, but she had to start somewhere.
One of the guys stood up, clearly assessing her. He was tall, taller than her, and broad shouldered. She’d think he was handsome if not for the way his lip curled when he looked down on her. “For you to start raining on us for no reason? Girls already have such dramatic mood swings. Yours are ten times worse. Get lost.”
Her heart sank to her shoes. What else had she been expecting? She was right thinking Julieta was naive. Still, she couldn't say it was surprising. This always happened. No one in town genuinely enjoyed Pepa’s presence. They didn’t like her because of her gift. All that talk about a miracle? What kind of miracle would do this?
What kind of miracle would make anyone feel like this?
“Ah. I’m sorry.” Her voice was as small as she felt. A few giggles resounded from the group behind him, and Pepa made to turn. She could already feel the rain clouds forming. She would make her rejection succinct and sweet. Despite all, she had her pride, and she wouldn't give them the satisfaction of being right when they said she was an emotional wreck.
“Lorenzo! What is wrong with you? She even didn’t do anything!” A furious voice came from behind her, and she spun back to see a guy about Bruno’s height, curls tight and figure stout.
The guy, Lorenzo, presumably, groaned. “Félix. Can you shut up for two seconds? You don’t know how she is! This chick would kill you in a second if you even touched her makeup. Watch out for her.”
“And so what? Have you even had a conversation with her? How do you know she even wears makeup? You're as blind as a bat because you are too egotistical to get yourself glasses.” He yelled back, hands on his hips. A couple oooh's resounded from behind him, and although he tried to hide it, Pepa saw the boy's cheek twitch at the praise.
A few of the other group members grumbled, clearly annoyed with the disturbance. “What the hell do you care? Why’re you trying to defend this freak?” Pepa was nearly in tears, at this point. Clouds were forming and she couldn’t stop them, she could feel the drizzle hitting her arms already and soon enough they would turn into a downpour and-
“She’s not a freak! Do you know how many times she’s saved our crops? Crops that your whole family relies on?” Félix challenged.
Lorenzo’s face turned redder than Julieta’s jams. “We would’ve been fine! That's all she does, anyway! It's not like I'm going to thank her for doing what's expected when you can do weird stuff.”
Pepa felt the pinprick of the insult piercing the piece of her heart where all her insecurities lay. That one hurt.
“Really? I distinctly remember your mother, on her knees, begging the Madrigals to help save your corn before it fell dead.”
Lorenzo glared, very obviously embarrassed. “No one asked you, Félix. C’mon guys.” He covered, what he would surely call a ‘tactical retreat’. “Clear where this kid’s loyalties lie.”
Félix glared. “Yeah. Pretty clear, huh?” They trailed out after Lorenzo, shooting dirty looks at Pepa and her cloud, her still unmoving from pure shock. She was still processing. “Are you okay? They’re jerks. I’m sorry about them,” Félix turned towards her, and she nearly dropped dead.
His eyes were warm, concerned. He didn’t flinch when rainwater came pouring down on his head. His hair was dripping and his clothes were soaked, but he held his hand out to her. “You’re getting wet.” She pointed out. Way to state the obvious, Pepa. Félix simply laughed. It was an awkward, giggly sound, and his voice cracked, but she felt her heart soar.
“You are too.” He grinned, lopsided and dopey, if a bit hesitant. “I'm sorry about Lorenzo. Qué cabrón, eh?”[What a bitch, huh?]
Pepa snickered behind her hand. “For sure. Uh, I’m Pepa. And.. sorry about the rain, too. I.. can’t really control it.”
Félix simply smiled. “I’m Félix.” She already knew that. “It’s actually pretty cool, though. You’d make a phenomenal meteorologist, at the very least.”
“Well, not a lot of people usually feel that way about it. It’s useful sometimes, but no one really wants to deal with the rest of it.” Pepa laughed awkwardly.
“That must be hard.” He frowned.
She huffed. “I’m sure other people have it worse,”
Félix’s frown deepened. “That doesn’t mean your hardships aren’t difficult.”
Pepa tried to play it off. No reason for her to make it all emotional and sappy. No one liked that kind of stuff. “Well,” She rubbed the back of her neck, “Lorenzo didn’t seem to care much either way,” She huffed out a chuckle.
“Yeah, he’s a jerk. My mother likes his mother, though, so I deal with him. It’s bearable, when he's not being incredibly obnoxious.” Pepa’s heart was screaming, by now. He cared for his mother!! “I didn’t realize he made a habit of picking on pretty girls, though.” It would have been a smooth line, if not for the way Félix blushed and flustered after he realized what he had said, desperately trying to backtrack.
Pepa chuckled, “So you think I’m a pretty girl?” Teasing came naturally. “Figured I’d be better as a meteorologist.”
“You’re not pretty! Well, no, you are, but that’s not all of you! You could be both! But not just pretty! But you’re still pretty! Just not all pretty. No! I mean you’re very pretty bu-” Pepa cut off Félix’s incessant rambling with a swift kiss to the cheek.
“I think you’re pretty too.” Her smile was well past giddy, and his look of pure awe only served to widen it.
She did, in fact, get quite the earful from Julieta, specifically on the fact that she wouldn’t introduce her to Pepa’s new friend.