Twelve Steps to Love

3 | BBQ

A/N - Number 33 in badass reads now!!! Please continue to share and vote, thank y'all so much!! This is a more diverse chapter and I hope you enjoy, let me know what you think!

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"¡Despierta! ¿Crees que puedes volver a casa borracho a las cinco de la mañana y salirte con la tuya? Vamos, es domingo y tu abuela quiere tu ayuda como siempre. Levanta el culo, Camila." (Wake up! Do you think you can go home drunk at five in the morning and get away with it? Come on, it's Sunday and your grandmother wants your help as always. Raise your ass, Camila.)

As always, my Sunday morning wake up calls are just short of relaxing. As per usual, my mom storms in, demanding me 'get my ass up, because it's Sunday.'

Sunday means cleaning and cooking at my house. Abuela drags us all out of bed, and demands for her house to look "shinier que la Iglesia" (shinier than the Church).

My cousin, Enrique, and my Tia Analia and Ti Ricardo also come over, and we have a big BBQ.

It usually ends in all of my abuela and mom's Spanish friends showing up, as well as my own along with my brother Mateo's.

My brother is ten, and as cute as I still like to think he is, he's transforming into a gross teenage boy that I'm not excited about. He looks as if he's my double, and I always tease him about stealing my look.

My mother is still as gorgeous as ever, with a thick accent and slim thick body. She is the embodiment of a Latina Goddess and I pray when I'm her age I look as good as she does.

My father is not around. He had been in and out of our lives for about seven years, and then when mama fell pregnant with Mateo he took off for good. Something I'm thankful for.

Abuela is a seventy year old lady with the spirit of a twelve year old. She is constantly on the move and is always on our asses to "limpia y come" (clean and eat up).

I groan as mama opens the curtains in my room, successfully blinding me and making my headache worse.

"Uh, mamá, me duele la cabeza" I groan as I try to hide my head in my pillows. (Uh, mama, my head hurts).

"Eso es lo que sucede cuando bebes, Camila. Sin excusas, la abuela está esperando." mama shoots back, not taking any of my shit. (That's what happens when you drink, Camila. No excuses, your grandma is waiting).

"Aquí hay un advil, tomar una ducha." she continues, "Tienes diez minutos." (Here is some advil, take a shower. You have ten minutes.).

I roll over as she leaves my room to see that it's only seven in the morning, this has to be some sort of crime.

After my speedy shower, I sluggishly change into comfortable cleaning clothes for the day, which consist of pyjama shorts and a tank top. I then quickly french braid my hair into two braids and make my way to abuela.

"Buenos días abuela. ¿Cómo estás?" I greet as I ruffle my brothers hair before giving my abuela a kiss on each cheek. (Good morning abuela, how are you?)

"Bueno mi amor. Estás fregando los pisos hoy. El cubo está en el armario." abuela replies as she pats my cheeks. (Good, my love. You are scrubbing the floors today. The bucket is in the closet.)

Mateo laughs at her words and my misfortune, causing me to stick my tongue out at him until my abuela points me in the direction I need to go.

"¿Por qué te estás riendo pequeño hombre? Vas a pulir los muebles, vamos." abuela sternly tells Mateo, causing me to laugh this time. (Why are you laughing little man? You are going to polish the furniture, lets go.)