REWRITTEN AS OF JULY 2022.
(ENEMIES TO LOVERS TROPE)
Carl Mendez is a teen from River Bridge high school. He is the son of a preacher and a high school principal. Both of his parents are Christians who live according to God's teachings. It's why th...
After a warm relaxing bath, I put on a pair of black sweatpants and an oversized grey t-shirt.
"Carl, what's taking you so long?" Mom called out.
"Coming mom." I yelled back, putting my phone on charge. I headed out of the room minutes later.
No sooner had I set foot in the dinning room, than the aroma of chicken enchiladas ambushed my nostrils. My stomach growled in anticipation. Saliva pooled in mouth when my eyes landed on the golden brown chicken at the center of the dining table. It felt like the baked chicken was calling out to me...begging me to devour it.
My mom's chicken enchiladas is the best. It's spicy, saucy and absolutely savory.
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"Carl, I invited Monica and Melissa over for dinner. They will be here any minute." Mom stated while setting the dishes on the piece of furniture.
"Okay." I stated while pulling out a chair. Suddenly, the door bell rang.
"They are here." She enthusiastically stated while fixing her neat wavy hair and midnight blue skater dress. "How do I look?" She sought my approval.
"You look fine, mom."
"Just fine? Do you know how long it took me to get this hair done? Also, I spent quite a fortune on this dress. I hope it doesn't make me look fat." Anxiety transuded from her speech.
"Mom. You look great. I promise." I assured with a smile.
"Thank you for saying that." Her carmine lips stretched into a warm smile. "I'll go get the door now." She added, then sauntered off, the heels of her shoes colliding noisily with the tiled floor.
"Monica, it's so good to see you. Come in!" Her voice echoed through the house.
"You too my friend." Monica's thick voice reverberated.
"Carl, get the pasta from the kitchen!" I heard mom yell.
"Yes mom." I strolled to the kitchen which was adjacent to the dining room. I served the pasta in a bowl and ported it to the dining area where the guests had already settled.
"Lucia that hair, oh my God. It's amazing. Can't believe I didn't notice it at first." Monica sang her praises.
"Thank you. Gladys did her job right unlike the other hair stylist I visited some time back." Mom revisited.
"You mean Martha. She's such an amateur. Doesn't even know how to use a curling iron." Monica added with a chuckle then shifted her gaze to me. "Hey Carlie. How are you?" She saluted.
"I'm fine, Mrs. Monica." I replied while taking a seat next to her daughter, Melissa, who kept stealing glances at me.
"Melissa here was missing you terribly so she insisted we come over for dinner." Monica blurted.
