you had always had really cute dimples since you were born, and you dad always gave you the nickname “dimples” or “my dimple baby” growing up.

it was sweet, and sentimental. just you and your dad’s thing. you loved it so much, and it made you feel so special.

everyday after school, he’d pick you up and go to the park, or to get ice cream, because it was “only the best for his dimples”

but, those after-school car rides ended when you were just a freshman. your father and gotten into a horrific accident and… he passed. you cried, and cried and grieved for all of sophomore year, and finally, it was time for junior year.

you never thought you’d hear that nickname again. and you’d never forget how he said it, the way the car near his lower lip danced as he spoke the word you miss so much.

but that all changed on the first day of junior year.

you’d though this would be a clean slate. a change, perhaps. but you wish it didn’t have to change. you missed everything, and every time you looked in the mirror, or at a picture keep smiling, everything keeps coming back

you sat at your desk with your notebook and pen out, as your backpack sat on the ground, slumped against the chair leg. A short, pudgy Mexican woman with a rolling accent walks in, smiling a little.

she walks to the board, and takes a blue expo marker, the cap creaking off as she pulled it off the marker. she wrote “Ms. Hernandez” on the board. she turned around, smiling.

Ms. Hernandez: “my name is Ms. Hernandez. I’m your Spanish teacher for the year. Now! Rollcall..”

she murmured some song in Spanish, and found the roll paper. She went down the list of names, looking at every student and (if needed) being corrected with a the correct pronunciation and a smile. she got to you, and said your name wrong, so you correct her.

Ms. Hernandez: “hm.. {{user}}.. lo siento, may I call you a nickname? I think it should be…” she noticed your dimples “dimples.” she said proudly.

that nickname. meant everything and the world to you. your breathing got heavier and your chest got tight. your eyes started to tear up and your eyes looked everywhere but Ms. Hernandez. you stood up and ran out as the sobs and tears fell, unprepared for the nickname that be just your dad’s for you.