It's been three weeks since Delilah and I have been dating and she's pushing to meet my family.
"You've met my family!" She argued with me. I groaned and rubbed my face in frustration. I sat on the bed and Delilah climbed in my lap.
"Why can't I meet the people who made my baby boy come into this world." Delilah frowned, sadness laced in her voice. It broke my heart. I ran my fingers through her natural curls. Yes, she did change her hair back to her natural.
"I'm sorry baby girl. We can meet them now if you want." I mumbled and placed a soft kiss to her shoulder.
"Let me get ready." She mumbled back. She broke apart and pulled on some skinny jeans and a sweater. She put on her shoes and a big coat. I did the same. We got inside her car and she drove to my house. We got out and walked to the door. I let out a shaky breath and rang the doorbell. My mom opened the door and her eyes widened. The door slammed close before Delilah could step inside.
"Quick! Andrew, Ben and Jack, hide all the nice stuff!" I heard my mother's muffled voice say behind the door.
"Why?" My dad's voice sounded.
"There's someone black out there! They'll take our stuff!" My mother hissed. I looked down at Delilah and saw a frown on her face. I grabbed her hand and gave it a little squeeze. The door finally opened a minute later and they welcomed us in.
"Hi." Delilah squeaked out. They greeted her and she looked around the living room. Her eyes landed on an expensive vase we had and she walked over to it.
"This is a nice vase. My aunt has this." She complimented, looking at my mom.
"Thank you." She smiled and picked it up, putting it away.
"Why did you put it away?" Delilah frowned.
"Uh.... No reason. Now should we eat?" Mom said. Delilah looked at me and then nodded. Everyone left into the kitchen except for us.
"Are you comfortable? We could leave right now if you want." I assured.
"No, Luke. I want to stay." She told me. I nodded and took her coat. I set it down neatly and followed her into the kitchen. I sat next to her and picked up the fork and started eating.
"Could you pass the seasoning." Delilah politely asked. Jack handed her the salt and she gave him a weird look.
"Is that a problem?" He asked rudely.
"You use salt as seasoning?" Delilah cringed. Everyone nodded. I chewed on my bottom lip and squeezed Delilah's hand. She sighed and started to eat her food.
"What's so wrong with salt? Oh, I know. Apparently black people don't use salt." My dad said. My eyes widened.
"Excuse me?" Delilah replied. He repeated himself. By the look on Delilah's face, I could tell she wanted so bad to punch him in the face.
"You're so wrong. Now, goodbye. This dinner sucked and all of y'all can burn in hell, bye." Delilah glared at everyone and went into the living room. I glared at all of them, disappointed and embarrassed. I ran after Delilah. She got into the passenger seat and I got into the driver seat.
"I am so sorry about my family. You see this is why I didn't want to bring you over to my house. My family is such racist assholes and I'm glad I didn't grow up to follow in their racist footsteps." I rambled.
"It's okay." Delilah assured me. I sighed and turned on the car. I started driving on the road.
.
.
.
I turned to another street and glanced over at Delilah. Tears were streaming down her face.
YOU ARE READING
My Beautiful Girl
Hayran Kurgu"The definition of a beautiful girl is your name. An example of a beautiful girl is a picture of you. One beautiful girl I know is--" "Okay! I get it." ✿ #PROJECTPOC