Au Pair ✔

capítulo número ocho; el secreto

Au Pair

All Rights Reserved

© 2016 Luna Black

~*~

"Are you alright?" He asked quietly, concerned.

I nodded, stepping away from him, but didn't meet his eyes. I was really angry and if I happened to make-eye contact, I might take it out on him. I didn't want to take it out on him even though he stopped me from ripping out Piglet's fake extensions.

Luca opened his mouth to say something else, but thought better of it and shook his head, dropping the subject. I clenched my jaw tightly, breathing in deeply and walked out to the kitchen.

I would just pop in some Hamilton and try to ignore the stupid thoughts that were entering my mind. I always knew that my parents had fücked me up when I was younger. They messed up the image I had of myself and pretty much destroyed any faith I had in people.

But I thought that once I felt better about myself, I would forget all the terrible things they put me through. Clearly, I was stupid for thinking that, but it didn't hurt to hope for it.

Most people knew Puerto Rican families as very proud of their heritage and culture; my mother was not like that. I was ten when we moved to California and she met my step-dad, a man that was quiet and kept to himself most of the time, but spoiled the shït out of my mother and Veronica.

He was a "gringo" and the social circle that we were suddenly in, didn't really approve of my mother being Puerto Rican even though we were legal citizens of the United States. So, she rebuked anything that had to do with our culture. She stopped speaking Spanish, she would reprimand me for wanting to speak my native tongue and tell me that I would never get anywhere if I kept up my charades.

I thought it was stupid. It was obvious that being bilingual would help me later on and I would never deny my heritage. I was proud of the place I came from. I remember the beautiful house we lived in by the beach, before my biological father passed away and we moved to California.

I loved the taste of mofongo and tostones and plátanos. I was proud of who I was and I wasn't about to deny all of my rich background because my mother wanted to claw her way up the social chain.

The point to my mental rant is this; listening to Piglet making racist remarks about my ethnicity took me back to that stupid 14-year-old that listened to everything her mother had to say.

My mother would constantly tell me that being "Hispanic" would limit my options in a world mostly dominated by white men. She coloured her hair blonde, wore contacts and stopped speaking Spanish. She forced Veronica and I to do the same, but she eventually gave up when she realised that I was a "lost cause."

My own mother would put me down, calling me a "Spic" whenever she heard me speaking Spanish with my friends or when I would listen to Spanish music, she would make sure that I knew how terrible it was for me to be Spanish.

And knowing that she still had some sort of power over me, even when she wasn't even in the same state as me, pissed me off even more.

I was tempted to run out the house and catch up to Piglet and take out all of my frustration on her. However, I knew that if I did, I'd probably end up in jail and then I wouldn't be able to see Toby, Mrs. Maggie or my sexy boss.

I breathed in deeply, grabbing a glass pitcher from the sink to dry it and began to rap Hamilton under my breath. There was something about the soundtrack of the musical that seemed to calm me down. It would hype me up when I needed energy, but it would also relax me a bit. I was so upset that I would never be able to see the musical with the original cast and that the current tickets were all sold out for the next couple of years.