The Thug Roommate

4)Moving Day

I threw the last box of my clothes into my backseat. I laid my hands over my hips and let my breath come back. "Tired already?" asked Pricilla. I smiled and walked towards the house.

"Not even close." We laughed together and entered the house.

Momma had made my favorite, "torta chocolate?" I asked surprised. Momma only smiled as she took it out the oven.

"Of course. I had to." Momma shrugged. Poppa walked behind her and laid a hand on her shoulder. Poppa watched momma tend to the cake. "I'm proud for you." Both of my parents nodded.

"And Pricilla your a great friend." Poppa reached over and touched her arm. Pricilla blushed quickly.

"Of course. I know how things could be." Pricilla shrugged and bowed her head.

"We appreciate that." Poppa smiled to both of us. An awkward silence hung in the air.

"Why don't we get this cake wrapped up for you. " Poppa breaks the silence and wrapped the cake away. He sat it on the table of food for me to take to my new apartment.

It was a long while standing before I said, "Well I should get out of here." Their moods became sad and I couldn't help but frown. "I'll come and see you guys like all the time." I exclaimed.

"I know, I know, but it's really happening." Momma approached me slowly. "I guess it's time." Poppa nodded at momma. They both took a seat.

"Mommy I have to get on the rode." I sighed and sat at the table. Pricilla sat in curiosity.

"It's big news, and we only decided to tell you because you turned 18." Poppa played with his jittery hands.

"What are you talking about?" I looked between the both of them.

"Silenco." Momma snapped. I nodded slowly.

"Me and your mother have been hiding some really big news from you. Practically all of your life." Poppa starts the conversation with a low voice.

"We adopt you from Aunt Maria." Momma tells me boldly in her Hispanic accent.

"So what does this mean? Your not my real momma and poppa?" I shared a look between both of them. I paused and thought.

"Of course we your real parents Mariana. Because we didn't have you doesn't mean your not our real daughter." Poppa sighed. "We thought it was the best for you and Miguel."

I started to think about Aunt Maria. She was a prostitute from as long as I could remember. She would always get drunk or high and lay kisses on my forehead and cheeks. Growing up around Aunt Maria was a drag, I hated how she'd act.

Y'all remember the first time Aunt Maria stole from my piggy bank?" I questioned laughing it off a bit.

"Yeah but baby that's besides the point-" I interrupted poppa.

"And when she stole my bicycle? Oh, oh remember that time she stole my clothes? And, and the jewelry she took that abuela had given me?" I shook my head in disapproval.

"And then after all of these years of getting stole from and constantly lied to, you decide to tell me she's my real mother?" I crunched my face in a ball.

"I'm sorry." Momma and poppa took each others hands. "We thought it would be something to think about while you were away."

"This is going to mess me up! You didn't think about how I'd feel?" I screeched to them.

"Well we have prayed and prayed. We thought it was best for you to know." They both nodded at me, "this isn't to hurt you mi amor. I swear." Poppa exclaimed.