Chapter 11

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"Just be yourself, but don't be yourself, and..."
"Mari, calm down, it'll go fine."
I hope he's right, I'm nervous because he's meeting my family for the first time, who wouldn't be? I try to collect myself, walking through that door, and knowing that confusion and anger is going to be towards us. But I'm ready for it.

I go in to the hugs and screams of my nephew and nieces coming to towards me saying, "Tia Mari!" And I'm so happy they're here. I introduce them to Jo, who's a natural with them. My oldest niece, Abigail, I can tell is already in love with Jo. I know, because right after I introduced them to one another, she took him away from me to go play. Then I realized, my brothers and sister, are staring at me waiting for answers. So I walk over to the kitchen waiting for the mud to be thrown at my face if how I'm going to ruin my life just like they did.

"Who's he?" My oldest brother David asks me.
"He's my boyfriend." Feeling this weird feeling in my stomach as I say those words.
"What's his name?" My sister Isabel asks.
"His name's José, but people call him Jo." I tell them.
"So he doesn't want people to think he's Latino or what?" My other brother Chris says, man there always on my case. "No, it's just a name he's used to people calling him." I say, starting to get irritated.
"How old is he? What are his plans for the future? Does he want to go to college?"
"He's 15, and I think you should ask him all the questions you want yourself, for that's why he's here, for you to get to know him." I say annoyed and frustrated. Man why can't they see that I'm not going to ruin my life?

"Dinners ready! Hurry, before it gets frio por favor!" My mom says as she puts rice, chicken, potatoes, bread, and vegetables on the table.
"Damn ma' you went all out, it ain't Thanksgiving." David says.
"Si, I know, but we have a guest, as you can see."
"Yeah, we all can see that." Chris says in a rude voice.
"So, José, tell us about you." My sister asks, finally.
"Well what do you guys want to know? Ask away." He says.

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