"Dres nice, proper grammar, no dad jokes, absolutely no music talk,"
"Dress nice," mom said from the sofa. "Proper grammar," Carlos, our brother said. "No dad jokes," my dad grinned.
I was writing down some notes for my keyboard. When Lizzie snapped her fingers causing me to look up. "No talking about my music, got it. Anything else your highness?"
She rolled her eyes and inhaled from her nostrils. "Be here at eight, except you mom. You're cooking for us so go get changed and wear an apron,"
My mom quickly got up and practically ran upstairs. "Dad, shower and change. Same goes to you Carlos," they did the same thing mom did.
"Lizzie, aren't you like twenty five?"
"I'm kinda a child, still."
"Really?"
"Y/n, I'm only seventeen."
"How old is this boyfriend of yours?"
"He's eighteen," she said crossing her arms and not meeting my gaze. She rolled her eyes and dropped her hands as I gave her the look mom and dad give her when she's lying. "Fine! He's twenty-two,"
"Have you told dad?"
"God no! And he won't know, got it?" She said in a demanded tone. "Like I care, probably some high school drop out, who has no job, drinks and smokes some pot in his, mini van."
"Ooh, you'll regret saying that." she grinned. I furrowed my eyebrows and made my annoyed face. "Whatever, I'm gonna go to Vicky's," I said getting up.
"Be here at eight!" she shouted once I was out the door. I walked across the street and opened the door. "Hey mom," I said to Mrs. Cortez "hi honey,"
I opened the fridge and got an apple juice out. "Hey Gabe,"
"Y/n," he winked. "How's Marlinda?" I asked leaning on the island. "We broke up," he gazed at his homework.
"Ooh, you'll find someone." I pursed my lips, patted his hair. I walked out of the kitchen. "Dad," I said to Mr. Cortez. He looked at me as he put his newspaper down. "Here's your Domingo," he pulled out his wallet and gave me two dollars.
"Thanks dad,"
He smiled and picked up his newspaper again. Sunday's, it's a things hispanics do, they give their kids money for the week.
I walked upstairs slurping on the apple juice. I pushed Vicky's door open and she looked up from her lap top. "Finally, can you help with this."
I sat down on her bed and took her laptop. She was looking at a few clothes form hot topic, online. "You should get pins, look they're five dollars for a full box of them,"
"No, I mean the skirt." she pointed. "Ooh, red is your color." I slurped from my juice. "Really, you think so?"
"Yes, now buy it!"
She chuckled and put her credit card information. "I don't get it, how come you have a credit card. You're only fifteen,"
"So are you,"
