After the second time a kid on the playground called him mal as a taunt, Grimaldo started going by Mal preëmptively, in self-defense.

This really tells you pretty much all you need to know about Grimaldo Mendoza.

In case you feel otherwise: Mal is five foot three, wearing clothes that aren't hand-me-downs for the first time in his life, and too damn pretty to die. He begged, borrowed, stole and smuggled, lied, wheedled, forged, wheeled-and-dealed, bribed, bartered, and bargained, getting this Scholomance slot. It's possible he doesn't technically have a legal identity in the US anymore, in favor of an enclaver's Mexican cousin with a vague resemblance. It's fine. That's a problem for future Mal.

Current Mal's problem: shooting through the air (hyperspace? void?) at a million miles per hour. Cool. He hates it.