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Unprepared for the first day of sophomore year, Marisol entered the kitchen to find her little sister singing to "California Gurls" by Katy Perry, dancing with Belly in her arms. Marisol chuckled, grabbed a piece of toast, and took a bite.

George and Natasha entered the kitchen. "We need pictures!" George exclaimed, and Marisol chuckled. "Oh my goodness, my girls look so gorgeous today."

Marisol and Mila laughed. "They're not gorgeous, they look hot," Natasha pointed out, earning a scolding look from George, mindful that Mila is only ten years old.

Natasha laughed along with Marisol. "Just take the pictures, Dad," Marisol urged. George cracked a grin. "Okay, girls! Gather at the door, please," he instructed politely. The two sisters moved together, standing side by side. "Come on, Mars, wrap an arm around your sissy," Natasha suggested with a grin.

She playfully rolled her eyes, complying with the request as Marisol and Mila smiled for the picture. "Aww! My girls," George gushed, showing the picture to Natasha. "Cute," she said, grinning, glancing at the girls.

"Mila, I'll take you to the bus?" George offered, and she nodded. "Have a good day, munchkin!" Natasha yelled as Mila walked out the doors with George. Natasha waited for the door to close. "Okay, what are we gonna do with girly girl breaking up with you?" she asked with a smirk as Marisol hummed. "Revenge would be cool."

Natasha sniffled a laugh. "Yes! Russian Roulette?" she suggested, and Marisol's eyes grew wide. "Wait, isn't that something with guns?" she questioned. Natasha licked her lips, eyeing her. "It wouldn't be guns, it would be pranks," she trailed off with a wink as Marisol nodded slowly. "Okay, well, what prank should I do?"

"I say tell everyone she cheated on you with some guy on social media," Natasha suggested bluntly, making Marisol's jaw drop. "JESUS. Um, okay.. should I do it on my real social media account or a fake one?" she asked, leaning on the counter as Natasha smirked.

"Fake it and say your name is Marina Spring or something," Natasha suggested mischievously. Marisol sighed, conceding to the idea. She retrieved her phone and opened her Twitter account – a secret space filled with confessions and musings, primarily followed by people from school. The username was a pseudonym, a digital alter ego allowing a measure of anonymity for those who wanted to share their thoughts without judgment.

She made a tweet saying: Samantha LaRusso has cheated on many of her exs with me.

She giggled after clicking "post," showing it to Natasha, who was now smoking. "Now that's revenge," Natasha declared. They burst into laughter as Marisol glanced at the time. "Shit! Gotta go. See you later, Nat!"

—

Entering first period, Marisol realized she didn't share classes with Eli or Demetri until the second semester, but fortunately, they had the same lunch. Spotting Yasmine, Moon, Sam, and the popular kids, she groaned and rolled her eyes. Glancing at the seating chart, she reluctantly took a seat next to Moon. Biting her bottom lip nervously, she held her backpack strings and walked over to where Moon was seated.

Seated next to her, Moon glanced over and exclaimed, "Oh my god, Mars! Hi!" oblivious to the recent breakup with Sam. Marisol looked at her with furrowed brows. "Hi?" she responded in a questioning tone. "I haven't seen you in a few weeks! How are you—"

Yasmine smacked Moon's arm, cutting her off. "Moon, stop talking to her!" she scolded, and Marisol frowned. "Yas..." Moon trailed off, giving her a look as Yasmine rolled her eyes.

Yasmine walked over to Sam, taking a seat next to her. Moon sighed, looking at Marisol, "I know you and Sam broke up, but I hope we can still be friends... Yas was the one who was with Sam when she broke up with you," she rambled, and Marisol scanned her expression, sensing her sincerity. "It's fine," was all Marisol said.

"Hello, class! I am Mrs. Camden. I will be your math teacher for this semester. Today is just to get a little bit about me and your classmates," Mrs. Camden announced. Marisol overheard students discussing the rumor she made up and tried to hold back her smile when Moon tapped her shoulder. "Yeah?" she said, looking at Moon. "Did you spread that rumor about Sam?"

Marisol scoffed dismissively. "No," she snapped at Moon, punctuating her response with a minor eye roll. "Okay, well... would you know who might have spread it?" Moon interrogated, her curiosity evident. The Cervantes girl huffed in frustration. "Can you please stop talking to me?" she yelled, the sudden outburst drawing the attention of nearby students who turned to look at them.

Moon nodded glumly. "Okay, i'm sorry.."

—

Marisol was thrilled for lunch, sitting between Eli and Demetri. Her attention lifted when a new kid approached. "Is it cool if I sit here?" a boy's voice rang in the air. Marisol looked up and realized it wasn't someone she recognized. "Ooh. Sorry, the table's really blowing up right now," Demetri said sarcastically, causing the Latino boy to look at him cluelessly. "I can put you on the waitlist, but it's probably next semester at the earliest."

The Latino boy's face dropped. "Okay," he said as he started to walk away. "No, kid! He was being sarcastic. You can sit down," Marisol piped up, and he looked at her with a grin before sitting down. "Miguel," he introduced himself. "Demetri. This is Eli, and this is Marisol," Demetri informed him, pointing to each of them as Marisol waved her hand. "Eli is a man of few words."

Sam and Yasmine walked past the table. Miguel looked at them, and Marisol noticed a certain look in his eye as he watched Sam. She frowned, glancing at Eli, who also saw it. He grabbed her hand, offering a sympathetic smile.

"Dude, don't torture yourself. Those are the rich girls. Plus, the girl in the skirt is or well, in lo—" Demetri rambled, getting cut off by a harsh nudge from Marisol. "The girl in the skirt was my ex-best friend, Sam. She dropped me because I'm gay. I mean, she's not entirely wrong, but I am pansexual—"

Eli tapped her shoulder, prompting her to stop rambling. "Y- Yes?" she stuttered, looking at Eli with raised eyebrows. "You're rambling again," he whispered. She chuckled softly, a small blush tinting her cheeks. "Well, I'm sorry about that... but do you two talk to them?" he asked Demetri and Eli, causing her to slightly roll her eyes.

"Oh yeah! All the time. We hang out after school, make out, give each other hand jobs. Eli here is the homecoming king. Gets laid more than anyone. Isn't that right, Eli?" Demetri said sarcastically. Eli cracked a grin as Miguel rolled his eyes.

Marisol smirked. "Demetri? Talk to them? You do realize what table you're sitting at, right? Demetri can't even get a girl. Eli? Most definitely. He's too sweet and handsome, right, Eli?" She grabbed Eli's cheeks, squeezing them as he chuckled softly. Eli sported a bright blush on his cheeks. "She's not wrong. Marisol can get anyone. But you've pretty much signed away all hopes of losing your virginity before college."

Eli's eyes drifted to Yasmine's table. "Oh, shit, Yasmine's looking at us. Probably just making fun of me," the Moskowitz boy said quickly, raising his hand over the scar on his lip. The Latina girl frowned, gently pulling his hand down. "I think you're handsome with your scar," she said softly as he smiled at her. "I don't think she's making fun of you. I mean, just because they're hot doesn't mean they're mean," Miguel shrugged his shoulders, glancing at Sam.

Marisol rolled her eyes at the boy as Demetri gave Miguel a look. "Oh yeah, did you hear that rumor about Sam?" Demetri shared as Marisol smirked. "Yeah, I made it," she whispered, causing Demetri and Eli to widen their eyes. "Hold up, that was you?!" Demetri whispered-yelled as she nodded with a proud look. "W— What, she cheated on you?" Eli stuttered.

She laughed. "No," she whispered, ensuring only they could hear, making sure Miguel didn't catch it. Obviously, Miguel didn't hear that part; he was too busy gawking at Sam. "What's this rumor about Sam?" he asked with lost puppy dog eyes as Demetri gaped, mouth wide open. "Apparently, someone spread a rumor saying Sam's a cheater," she said, stopping Demetri from revealing more with a huge smug look.

He furrowed his eyebrows, skepticism evident in his expression. "I don't know if I should believe that," Miguel stated, raising an eyebrow as Marisol fixed him with a piercing glare. Before Marisol could respond, Kyler's taunting voice echoed, "Hey, dyke!" Marisol clenched her eyes closed, bracing herself for the insult. Groaning, she turned around to face Kyler. "What do you want, Kyler?" she asked, a mix of irritation and defiance in her tone.

"Was it you who spread that rumor?" he asked with a smug look as she clenched her jaw. "No," she shot back as he raised an eyebrow. "All right. Bye, dyke." He walked away as Marisol huffed. "Wait, was it you?" Miguel leaned closer, whispering the question as she avoided eye contact. "Holy shit," he mumbled, realizing she did.

"Don't tell anyone, please," she pleaded, her eyes piercing with intensity as he shook his head. "I-I-I won't," he stuttered, a nervous response that made Marisol cringe, coupled with a subtle eye roll. "Wait, how did you even come up with this idea?" Demetri questioned, intrigued. Marisol laughed dryly. "Russian stepmom," she smirked, offering a cryptic explanation that left Demetri puzzled yet amused.

"Should've known. She's hot, sexy, smart..." Demetri listed with dreamy eyes as Marisol playfully smacked him in the arm. "Please stop," she giggled, finding his admiration amusing. "You have a Russian stepmom?" Miguel asked, curious. Marisol nodded, "Yeah, s-she's super hot," Eli chimed in, earning a teasing look from Marisol. "Not you too!" she whined, throwing her head back, a mix of amusement and mock exasperation on her face.

Demetri cleared his throat, his gaze unwavering as he fixated on Yasmine across the bustling cafeteria. "I don't care if Yasmine is the meanest girl at school. I'd kill all three of you just to get her to spit in my face," he proclaimed with a dreamy expression, drawing both disbelief and repulsion from Marisol. "Oh my god, Demetri—" she started, a mix of exasperation and amusement playing on her face as she interrupted his fantasy with a shake of her head.

"If you don't make a move, you'll never have a shot," Miguel encouraged him, a hint of optimism in his tone, while Marisol pinched the bridge of her nose, anticipating what Demetri might say.

"True, but I'll also never suffer a humiliating rejection. I'm at peace with my depression," he pointed out with a dry sense of humor, his gaze drifting thoughtfully. "The last thing I need to be is suicidal," Demetri mumbled, his fork absently playing with his food as a moment of contemplative silence settled over the table.

Miguel pushed his tray aside and stood up, catching Marisol's attention. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise as she urgently called out, "Wait, Miguel! Hold on!" She tried to halt his actions, hoping to intervene before he proceeded further.

Demetri's brow furrowed inquisitively as he questioned, "What are you doing?" The Diaz boy fixed his gaze on Sam, a determined look in his eyes, and responded, "I'm striking first." As he approached Sam's table, Marisol's eyes widened with a mix of surprise and concern. In a frustrated tone, she muttered, "Oh my freaking god, he's going after my ex." Sensing her distress, Eli gently squeezed her hand, offering a comforting smile filled with understanding.

She let out a heavy sigh, feeling the weight of disappointment as she leaned her head on Eli's comforting shoulder. Miguel returned with a visible frown, his expression revealing the outcome of whatever he had just faced. Demetri, with a touch of sarcasm in his voice, couldn't resist asking, "So, how'd it go?" Miguel responded with a glum nod, his shoulders slumping as he shrugged, conveying the lack of success in his endeavor.

—

ash speaks!

marisol is very jealous this chapter. i'm sorta tempted to have her dislike miguel until season three.

also im undecided if eli or sam is endgame yet😭