[ dos ] 

"We all know Rodolfo's getting off free since he's ths son of the police chief. Even if he did it, he won't be the one sent to el tambo." The prison, Paul spat angrily. "Its going to be pinned on any of the rest of us." 

"It wasn't him." Jurgen defended as if by reflex, his words completely sure of his friend's innocence. The other players in the room looked right at him, including Pizarro. Jurgen knew in that moment that he had given them a reason to suspect him. Quickly, he added, "I doubt that it was any of us. No one on the team hated Memo. We were all his closest friends."

Paul rolled his eyes at the younger footballer. "You don't have to hate the person you're killing. You just have to have a good reason to do it."

"So it was you." Rodolfo accused, pointing his index finger at the sinaloense.

"Hell no!" Paul shouted.

"Someone fucking confess already!" Miguel shot up from his seat by his locker and he was trying hard to hide his tear glazed eyes. Of the rest of the players, Miguel had been once been the closest to Memo before he had left for France. Miguel, Paul, Memo, and Diego had all been team mates in Club America. When Memo left for europe, Paul was the replacement friend Miguel had. The others had less contact with the goal keeper, since they had never been on a team together with him. But they had met when they were called for the national team and became close friends.

Memo had been the one to make the new additions to the team feel more at home. He was a person who could always keep a secret about anything. And he was a good friend to all of them.

-

Before they reached their destination, Jurgen stood up at the front of the bus. The young footballer cleared his throat to get the attention of his team mates. When their eyes were on him, he began, "Guys, I'm hosting a party in Pachuca next Saturday. I would- really like it- if you all came." He stuttered slightly, his hands sweaty and his voice sounded nervous.

"Party!" Carlos shouted, making the rest of the guys burst out in laughter.

"You can't have a party next Saturday." Miguel said, matter-of-factly. A smirk became present on his face in the seconds that followed.

"Why not?" Jurgen wondered.

"Because," Miguel replied, his voice coming out as taunting. "Saturday is the day that I'm hosting a party at my family's house in Puerto Vayarta. We'll be there all weekend. Va a estar chingon." He grinned. It's going to be the shit, he told them. A lot of the players' faces lit up at the chance to spend a weekend at one of the most beautiful beaches in Mexico.

"You're doing it on purpose!" Rodolfo protested. "You're only saying that because Jurgen mentioned his party."

"Can't you change your beach getaway for another week? I was really hoping you'd all come to my party, even you, Miguel." Jurgen wondered, almost in a whisper. Of the group, Miguel and Jurgen got on the least. But it was all because of Miguel who liked pushing Jurgen around. He thought it fun that Jurgen would never defend himself. Jurgen knew that if it came down to it, Miguel would make the rest of the players choose a side. And Jurgen knew it was likely they would not take his.

The footballer from Club America shook his head, saying innocently, "I already planned it."

"Since when?" Rodolfo argued.

Miguel shrugged. "Since just now." He wasn't afriad to hurt people's feelings.

"Well I'm going to Jurgen's party." Rodolfo stated.

Around them, the rest of the team was contemplating their options. Miguel came from a better family and likely had better things to offer them. Sensing they needed persuading, the young man from Veracruz added, "We'll go to all the best night clubs and meet women. Everything will be paid by my family, so you won't need to worry about a thing."

"I've never been to Puerto Vallarta." Paul confessed.

"Entonces vas, puto?" You going, motherfucker? Miguel asked with a grin.

"A huevo, puto." Definitely, motherfucker. Paul nodded.

"And we'll have all kinds of food there." Miguel continued, trying to get the rest of them on board. "My family hires only the best chefs in the world to cook for us. Not like the shit they serve us at team dinners."

At the mention of food, Diego practically shouted, "Food? I'm in!"

With each person that abandoned ship, Jurgen felt himself shrink. "I would really like to see the beaches." Oswaldo commented, earning him a laugh from the rest of the team.

"You're blind from one eye!" Paul reminded him.

"I can still see just fine with the other one though." Oswaldo said shyly.

"I'm going to Vallarta." Carlos said.

Chicharito nodded, "Maybe I'll get to meet some pretty girls."

"I'll go too." Hector spoke up.

The only ones left to decide in their group of friends were Giovani and Memo. All the players turned in their seats to look at them, awaiting an answer. Giovani hesitated for a moment before his face contorted in pity. "Sorry, Jurgen. I'm going to Vallarta with the rest of the guys. But I'm sure your party will be great."

Memo only remained quiet and never gave his answer.

"Eres un hijo de puta, Miguel." Jurgen hissed before sitting back down in his seat.

"Not as much as you, ñoño." Miguel grinned, satisfied with himself.

- 

Knowing they would be staying in the locker room for a while, Diego reached for his training bag and zipped it open. Inside were all kinds of snacks, but the one he got out was a family sized bag of Lays potato chips, which were called Sabritas in Mexico. "I'm starving. You would think the police would be considerate and bring us some food." He said, opening the bag and letting the smell of cheese fill the air. 

"Echalas sabritas." Give the Sabritas to me, Paul snatched the bag from his friend. "I'm hungry too."

"Hey, get your own, puto." Diego began to complain, but it was too late. Paul stuck his hand into the bag and grabbed a handful before returning them to Diego.

Miguel reached for the bag ot chips next. "Share, pinche gordo. That's why they made family size."

"The only family I share with is my stomach." Diego refused to hand him the bag.

Popping one into his mouth, Paul wondered, "What flavor are these anyway?" He really liked the chips he was eating.

"Its one of those flavor contest entries." Diego explained. "The Sabritas company have been sending them to me so I can give them feedback because they know I love chips." Turning the bag over, he read the flavor label at the front. "It says the flavor is called pizdamm and there's a picture of cheese on the front."

Paul snorted at the name. Looking at Pizarro and Jurgen who were close by, he taunted, "Someone named a flavor of chips after your ship name, putos!" 

-

i was too lazy to look for the u with dieresis on my laptop keyboard. so i'll fix it tomorrow on my phone. jaja. so already we kinda have the guys fighting. i hope you all like the update, i worked really hard on it. that's pretty much all i have to say. i wish i could watch the mexico game on tv. but i have to watch it on my laptop on mute during my last class. haha.

anyway, thank you for reading. i love you.

-clary xx