chapter twenty-three:
❛ come home, bubblegum ❜

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the spanish in this chapter, i used google translate so let me know if its wrong or not :)

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Arizona and Diego pulled up to their Abuela's small, sun-warmed house, nestled in a quiet neighborhood, with the weight of everything that had happened pressing down on their shoulders. The drive had been long, each mile taking them further from the chaos at home, but it had given them too much time to think. Diego hadn't spoken much the entire trip, and Arizona could feel the tension radiating off him as they parked and got out of the car.

She glanced at her younger brother, his face pale and tired, clutching his backpack as if it held something precious. Arizona reached out, gently taking his hand in hers, and they stood there for a moment, just breathing, before making their way up the familiar path to their Abuela's front door.

Arizona could already smell the faint, comforting aroma of her Abuela's cooking drifting through the air. The scent of frijoles simmering, tortillas warming on the comal, and the unmistakable spices of her Abuela's famous homemade salsas. For a fleeting second, the smell brought her back to her childhood—back when things were easier, when their lives were full of laughter, not fear.

She knocked softly, the sound barely audible. But before they could even prepare themselves, the door flew open, and their Abuela appeared, her face lighting up with joy.

"¡Mis niños!" she exclaimed, dropping a kitchen towel onto the floor as she rushed towards them. Her voice was filled with excitement, her eyes shining as she opened her arms wide. "¡Dios mío, no lo puedo creer! ¡Miren cómo han crecido!"

("My children! My God, I can't believe it! Look how much you've grown!")

Her Abuela's hands found Arizona's face first, cupping her cheeks with warmth and tenderness, pulling her close to plant several kisses on her forehead and cheeks. Arizona felt the familiar press of her Abuela's soft lips, the smell of her rosewater perfume, and it all hit her—how long it had been, how much she had missed her.

"¡Tan hermosa, mi niña, y tan alta! ¿Cuántos años han pasado? ¡No te he visto en siglos!"

("So beautiful, my girl, and so tall! How many years has it been? I haven't seen you in ages!")

Arizona forced a smile, her lips trembling, trying to hold it together. She hadn't realized how much she needed to be here until this very moment. Her Abuela turned to Diego next, her smile even brighter.

"Dieguito, ¡mira nada más! ¡Estás hecho todo un hombrecito! Ven aquí, mi amor."

("Dieguito, just look at you! You've grown into such a little man! Come here, my love.")

Diego hesitated for just a second before letting go of Arizona's hand and stepping forward into their Abuela's arms. She hugged him close, murmuring softly in his ear, words of love and pride. When she finally pulled back, she held both of their hands, stepping back to get a good look at them. But the excitement in her face faltered slightly when she noticed their expressions—how their eyes seemed distant, their smiles barely reaching their eyes.

Her brow furrowed in concern as she looked between them. "¿Qué pasa, mija?" she asked softly, her voice tinged with worry. "¿Por qué esas caritas tan tristes?"

("What's wrong, my dear? Why such sad faces?")

Arizona felt her throat tighten. The lump she'd been holding back since the drive, since they left the house, threatened to choke her. Her lips parted, but the words she needed to say felt stuck. How could she explain everything? How could she tell their Abuela about their dad, about their mom falling apart again, about the violence, the fear?

She tried to speak, her voice barely a whisper. "Abuela... mi mamá... mi papá..."

("Abuela... my mom... my dad...")

But she couldn't finish. The weight of everything came crashing down, and before she could stop herself, the dam broke. Hot tears streamed down her face as she buried her head into her Abuela's shoulder, the sobs wracking her body. The pain she'd been holding in for so long, trying to be strong for Diego, all came pouring out at once.

Her Abuela's arms were around her instantly, pulling her close, hugging her tightly against her chest. "Ay, mi niña, ya, ya... Llora si lo necesitas. Aquí estamos contigo, mi amor. Todo va a estar bien, te lo prometo."

("Oh, my girl, it's okay, it's okay... Cry if you need to. We're here with you, my love. Everything will be okay, I promise.")

Her Abuela's hand gently stroked her hair, her voice soft and full of love, whispering words of comfort. The rhythm of her voice, the steady rise and fall of her chest against Arizona's cheek—it was all so familiar, so comforting, and it only made Arizona cry harder. She had tried so hard to hold everything together for Diego, for herself, but here in her Abuela's arms, she didn't have to be strong anymore.

Diego stood nearby, silent and still. He looked lost, his eyes wide and full of the same pain, but unsure what to do. He'd always been quiet, always kept things inside, but Arizona could see it in his face—the weight of everything they'd been through was too much for him, too.

Their Abuela noticed right away. She loosened her hold on Arizona just enough to turn towards Diego, still holding Arizona's hand in hers. "Dieguito, mi vida," she said softly, brushing a hand gently against his cheek. "¿Por qué no vas a tu cuarto, cariño? Te lo tengo listo. Descansa un poquito."

("Dieguito, my love. Why don't you go to your room, sweetheart? I have it ready for you. Rest a little.")

Diego hesitated but nodded, his small body looking even smaller as he shuffled off down the hallway towards the room that had always been his when they visited. Arizona watched him go, her chest aching for him, but relieved that their Abuela knew how to handle them both. She always knew.

Once Diego was out of sight, Arizona let herself break down completely, clinging to her Abuela, letting the tears flow freely. Her Abuela held her through it all, her arms a steady anchor, whispering words of love and strength.

"Todo va a estar bien, mi niña," she repeated, her voice firm and soothing. "Te lo prometo. Ya estás en casa."

("Everything will be okay, my girl. I promise. You're home now.")

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Arizona believed her.

Arizona sat at the kitchen table, her hands gripping the mug of tea her Abuela had set in front of her. The warmth seeped into her palms, but it did nothing to ease the tight knot of anxiety in her chest. She glanced around the small, familiar kitchen—everything was just as she remembered. The faded floral curtains, the collection of ceramic roosters on the shelf, the faint hum of the old refrigerator. It all felt so normal, so comforting, but the storm inside her refused to settle.

Her Abuela was bustling around, putting away dishes and wiping down the counters, giving Arizona space to gather her thoughts. Diego was still in his room, and the house was quiet except for the gentle clinking of plates. But Arizona knew she couldn't avoid the conversation any longer. She took a deep breath, steadying herself.

"Abuela..." Arizona's voice was barely above a whisper, and it trembled slightly as she spoke.

Her Abuela paused, looking over her shoulder with a gentle expression. "Sí, mi niña?" she asked softly, coming to sit across from Arizona. She reached out, placing her warm, weathered hand over Arizona's.

Arizona stared at their hands for a moment, unable to meet her Abuela's eyes. "I... I had to force mamá to go to rehab," she began, her voice cracking. "She's been drinking again. Ever since... ever since everything with papá."

Her Abuela's face softened with a deep sadness, and she squeezed Arizona's hand gently. "Ay, Dios mío," she whispered. "Lo siento tanto, mi niña. Tu mamá... es una mujer fuerte, pero a veces, incluso los más fuertes necesitan ayuda."

("I'm so sorry, my girl. Your mom... she's a strong woman, but sometimes even the strongest need help.")

Arizona swallowed hard, nodding, but her guilt weighed heavy on her. She finally met her Abuela's gaze, her eyes welling with tears. "I didn't want to do it, Abuela. She didn't want to go. But I had to force her. It was getting so bad, and Diego... I couldn't let him see her like that."

Her Abuela reached across the table, cupping Arizona's cheek with a tender hand. "Hiciste lo correcto, mi amor," she said firmly, her voice unwavering. "A veces, el amor más grande es el que nos obliga a tomar decisiones difíciles. Tu mamá te lo agradecerá un día, aunque ahora no lo vea."

("You did the right thing, my love. Sometimes, the greatest love is what forces us to make hard decisions. Your mom will thank you one day, even if she can't see it now.")

Arizona nodded, wiping away a tear with the back of her hand. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself again. "There's... there's something else," she said, her voice dropping to almost a whisper. "My dad... he's alive."

Her Abuela's expression didn't shift much—just a small flicker of something unreadable in her dark eyes. She nodded slightly, as if she had already known. "Lo sé," she said quietly.

("I know.")

Arizona blinked, taken aback. "You knew?"

Her Abuela's lips pressed into a thin line, and she looked down at the table for a moment before speaking. "Sí. Sabía que estaba vivo," she admitted, her voice low. "Pero nunca lo quise en tu vida."

("Yes. I knew he was alive. But I never wanted him in your life.")

Arizona's breath hitched. The words caught in her throat, but she forced them out. "It's not shocking, but Abuela... he's a piece of shit," she whispered, her hands trembling around the mug. "Ever since he came out of witness protection... everything's been so different. He's so strict, Abuela. He— he's so controlling."

Her Abuela's face hardened, her lips pressing together tightly. "Siempre lo supe," she said quietly, her eyes narrowing with old resentment. "Nunca me gustó ese hombre. No confiaba en él. Y mira lo que te ha hecho..."

("I always knew. I never liked that man. I didn't trust him. And look at what he's done to you...")

Arizona closed her eyes for a moment, trying to hold herself together. She didn't want to cry again, didn't want to break down, but the weight of it all was too much. "He was awful, Abuela. He treated us like... like we were in the military or something. And when I messed up... he—he said I was a disgrace."

Her Abuela's eyes flashed with anger at that. She sat up straight, gripping Arizona's hand tightly. "Arizona," she said firmly, her voice sharp with a kind of fierce love that made Arizona's heart ache. "No eres una desgracia. Escúchame bien. No importa lo que haya dicho tu padre, tú no eres una desgracia. Eres fuerte, eres valiente, y yo estoy muy orgullosa de ti."

("Arizona, you are not a disgrace. Listen to me. No matter what your father said, you are not a disgrace. You are strong, you are brave, and I am so proud of you.")

That did it. The floodgates opened, and Arizona couldn't hold back the sob that tore from her chest. The tears streamed down her face as she clung to her Abuela's hand, her whole body trembling.

"I just... I've tried so hard to keep it together," she cried. "But I'm falling apart, Abuela. And I don't know how to fix it."

Her Abuela stood from her chair and moved to Arizona's side, pulling her into a tight embrace. "No tienes que hacerlo sola, mi amor," she whispered into her hair, holding her close. "Ya no estás sola."

("You don't have to do it alone, my love. You're not alone anymore.")

Arizona buried her face into her Abuela's shoulder, feeling like a little girl again, safe and loved in a way she hadn't felt in so long. The weight of everything still hung over her, but for the first time in what felt like forever, she wasn't carrying it alone.

The late afternoon sun spilled its warmth across the living room of Arizona's abuela's home, casting a golden hue that made everything feel almost ethereal. After the emotional turbulence of the day, Arizona had settled onto the couch, nestled under a soft, faded blanket, feeling the gentle rhythm of sleep beginning to take over her body. She had been trying to process everything—the chaos, the fear, and the loss—but it was hard to find clarity.

The soft creak of the door startled her awake, and her abuela's familiar voice cut through the haze. "Mi amor," she called gently, her accent wrapping around the words like a tender embrace. "Tienes una visita."

("My love, you have a visitor.")

With a groggy nod, Arizona rubbed her eyes and squinted against the light, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. "¿Quién es?" she murmured, still half-dreaming.

("Who is it?")

Her abuela's eyes sparkled with a mix of excitement and curiosity as she stepped aside, revealing a figure that sent a shiver down Arizona's spine. Johnny Lawrence stood there, hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets, a lopsided smirk on his face that felt achingly familiar.

The warmth from the sun suddenly felt distant as Arizona's heart sank. She stood up, instinctively crossing her arms in a protective manner. "What do you want?" she demanded, her voice steady despite the tumult of emotions swirling inside her.

Johnny took a step closer, and his smirk softened into something more genuine. "Come home, Bubblegum."

The nickname tugged at something deep within her, conjuring memories of long nights spent training at Cobra Kai, the adrenaline of sparring, and Johnny's voice urging her to push herself harder. But now, those memories felt tainted, shadowed by her recent experiences.

"Why?" she retorted, shaking her head, the words spilling out before she could stop them. "Just because I left Cobra Kai and apologized to Sam and Miguel doesn't mean I should come home. My best friend Tory probably hates me now." She hesitated, a wave of anxiety washing over her. "And how did you even know I was here?"

Johnny shrugged, his casual demeanor hiding the urgency beneath. "Your weird friend Dylan told Miguel. Then Miguel told me. Miguel wanted to come, but I thought it'd be better if it was just me."

Arizona felt torn, her mind racing. Could she go back? She could feel the weight of her decision bearing down on her. "I don't know, Johnny... I don't know if I want to go back." Her gaze drifted to the door, knowing Diego was just beyond it, safe in his room. "My life's a mess. Diego and I... we don't have anywhere else to go. Abuela lives here, in Riverside."

Johnny stepped closer, his tone shifting to something softer, more sincere. "Look, I get it. But you don't have to stay here. You can live with me. You can be one of my students again... but in Eagle Fang this time. You don't have to do this alone, Arizona."

Her heart pounded in her chest, and she felt her breath quicken. The thought of returning to something familiar, of having Johnny's guidance again, was enticing. But how could she leave her family behind?

Just then, her abuela walked back into the room, her presence a calming anchor. "Mija," she began, her voice smooth and soothing, "escúchame. Tú y Diego siempre tendrán un lugar aquí, pero si Johnny te ofrece un lugar para quedarte, tal vez es mejor por el momento. Yo puedo quedarme aquí, organizar mis cosas, y luego me mudo contigo y Diego."

("My daughter, listen to me. You and Diego will always have a place here, but if Johnny is offering you a place to stay, maybe it's better for now. I can stay here, get things in order, and then I'll move in with you and Diego.")

Arizona's heart twisted painfully. She loved her abuela fiercely, but the thought of leaving her felt wrong. She looked between Johnny and her abuela, trying to find the right words. "But I... I can't just leave Diego here."

Johnny took another step forward, his voice earnest. "You can come back. You can start fresh in Eagle Fang. Let me help you. You've always been tough, Arizona, but you don't have to be tough alone."

Tears welled in Arizona's eyes as she fought against the urge to give in to despair. She glanced at the door again, the safe haven of her abuela's home looming large in her mind. Could she really leave? Could she abandon her family for a shot at reclaiming her life?

Finally, she took a deep breath, her resolve hardening. "Okay," she said, her voice trembling but determined. "But Diego is staying here. I'm the only one going back."

Johnny's face lit up with excitement, a grin breaking free. "Yes! You won't regret this."

Just then, a loud beeping interrupted their moment—the sound of Arizona's ankle monitor alerting her that she was outside of the designated area. Panic surged through her as she froze, her mind racing. "Shit!" she gasped. "I— it knows I'm not home. They're going to put a BOLO out on me."

Johnny's expression shifted instantly, concern flashing across his features. "Alright, let's not panic," he said, taking control of the situation. "I'll drive you down to the station. Let's go."

Without another word, Arizona nodded, adrenaline kicking in as she grabbed her backpack and quickly shoved her phone inside. Johnny ushered her toward the door, his presence a mix of urgency and reassurance. As they stepped out into the cool evening air, her abuela watched from the threshold, her face a blend of worry and pride.

"Cuídate, mi amor," her abuela called after them, her voice filled with love and concern.

("Take care of yourself, my love.")

With that, Arizona stepped into the night, her heart pounding in her chest. She felt the weight of uncertainty hanging over her, but she also felt a glimmer of hope. This was a chance—a chance to reclaim her life and find her way again. And for now, that was enough.

As Arizona and Johnny approached the police station, the cool evening air wrapped around them, contrasting sharply with the anxiety knotting in her stomach. The building loomed ahead, its stark, fluorescent lights illuminating the path like a spotlight on her impending confrontation. Johnny walked beside her, exuding a quiet confidence that both reassured and unnerved her; she felt like a child once more, about to face the principal's office.

Entering the station, Arizona was immediately hit by the sterile scent of antiseptic, mixing with the distant sounds of muted conversations and the ringing of phones. Her heart pounded, a drumbeat of dread echoing through her. Johnny stepped forward to the front desk, his stance protective.

"Can I help you?" the desk officer asked, his gaze flicking from Johnny to Arizona, eyes narrowing slightly.

"We're here for Arizona Alvarez. She has an ankle monitor issue," Johnny said, his tone firm yet polite, attempting to mask the tension that filled the air.

The officer raised an eyebrow but nodded. "Wait here." He gestured for them to stand back, then disappeared down a corridor.

Moments later, a burly officer emerged, his uniform stretching over his broad shoulders. "Arizona Alvarez?" he called, his voice resonating with authority.

"Yeah, that's me," she replied, her throat dry, feeling the weight of all eyes on her.

"Follow me." He motioned for her to walk ahead of him, leading her down a stark hallway lined with glass-walled interrogation rooms. Arizona felt Johnny's reassuring presence linger close behind, but a pit of anxiety settled in her stomach as they approached a small, bleak room.

They entered, and Arizona was immediately struck by the cold, sterile environment. A heavy metal table dominated the center of the room, flanked by two chairs. The fluorescent lights overhead buzzed, casting a harsh glare on everything. She took a seat, her palms clammy against the metal surface as she faced the officer, whose tired eyes bore into her.

"Let's get straight to the point," he said, crossing his arms. "You're in violation of your parole. Your ankle monitor alerted us that you were outside of your designated area. Care to explain?"

Arizona swallowed hard, the weight of the day crashing down on her. "My mom... she was drinking again. I had to force her to go to rehab, and Diego and I had nowhere else to go, so we came to our abuela's." The words tumbled out, desperate to convey the urgency of her situation. "I didn't mean to set off the monitor. I just—"

The officer held up a hand, cutting her off. "I understand your situation, but we have procedures. The monitor will be extended for a few more months, and you'll need to come in for regular check-ins."

"What?!" Arizona exclaimed, disbelief flooding her voice. "I didn't do anything wrong! I was just trying to take care of my brother and my mom!"

"I get it, kid," he replied, his tone unyielding. "But this is your only warning. If you don't follow the rules from now on, there will be consequences." His gaze softened slightly, but it was clear he was only doing his job.

"Okay," Arizona said, the defeat settling heavy in her chest. The monitor felt like a shackle, binding her to a past she was desperate to escape. "I understand."

"Alright, you can go now," the officer said, waving her away dismissively.

As she stood up, the weight of anxiety and frustration mingled inside her. She walked back toward the waiting area, her heart racing as she spotted Johnny leaning against the wall, arms crossed, a look of concern etched on his face.

"Are you arrested?" he asked, his voice low and laced with worry.

Arizona shook her head, feeling a mix of relief and irritation. "No, but the ankle monitor is going to be extended for a few more months. I have to come in for more visits and check-ins."

Johnny's brow furrowed, and he pushed off the wall to step closer. "I'm sorry, Arizona. That's not what I wanted for you."

"It's fine," she said, forcing a smile that felt brittle. "I just need to figure things out. At least I'm still here, right?"

Johnny nodded, his expression serious. "Yeah, but we'll figure it out together. You're not alone in this."

As they exited the station, the night air hit Arizona like a refreshing wave, but it couldn't wash away the weight pressing down on her. She felt a flicker of hope ignite within her; with Johnny by her side and her abuela's unwavering support, maybe she could navigate the treacherous waters ahead. There was still a long road to travel, but for the first time in a while, Arizona felt like she could take a step forward.

ASH SPEAKS!

miguel and arizona reunion next chapter...

PLEASE DONT BE A GHOST READER!
COMMENT AND VOTE! IT HELPS US WRITERS STAY MOTIVATED:)