I Don't DO White Boys

Mixing the Drinks


The prologue may be a little offensive, forgive me I was venting


We're moving. I have to transfer to an entirely new school. What the Hell is my mother thinking?

Oh wait, I know what she's thinking, and I guess I agree with her. Our love lives suck. My step dad left, I thought that he was the one. The one that would love us, love a broken woman and child, but I guess not. He said he would love us, he said he would love us forever. But people lie all the time.

My dad left, he didn't want any girls so he gave my mother a choice, me or him. She said me. The custody battle was the last I saw of any of my brothers, not even my twin. You see my dad is some big wig lawyer and had money that my mom didn't. She was a medical student at the time and didn't have a job, and wouldn't be able to support herself and four kids so he won, and I became an only child. My mom went through a procession of bad guys for about six months until she finally swore off men. Then she met Angel Rios and he became one of her best friends. He encouraged her to finish Med school. He was another pillar to hold her up, and a shoulder to cry on. He was good to me too. He helped me to trust people again. Even as a four year old I was guarding my heart from rejection and more people leaving me. I guess I should have kept up my nice little wall.

They fell in love and they got married about a year and a half later. And with my new dad came new brothers and that helped to fill a void in my life. So as I lost my biological brothers Curtis, Chazz, and my twin Sean, I gained new ones Javier, Dante, Hector, and Manuelo. I finally had a father who loved me. On my seventh birthday he gave me a necklace, a locket really, and inscribed on the back were the five most precious words a broken seven year old will ever hear and/or read, 'I will love you Forever'. And I fell for it like an idiot.

Three days ago we came home early from my grandparents, my step father and brothers all made some bull shit excuse for not coming. My grandparents live in North Carolina. My grandmother is a beautiful African-American women standing at only about 5'3'' while my grandfather is actually part Syrian, Native American, and African-American. His grandfather was Syrian and he married a woman who was half Native and half black so it all comes together in a nice little cultural smoothie that is my grandfather. He is a giant compared to my grandmother, he is around 6'5''. My grandmother is actually quite tiny, we are all taller than her the shortest of her grandkids is about 5'5'' but he's only nine so he still has a ways to go. I think though that people should really understand that big things come in little packages, because although my grandma only stands comes up to chins on some and chests on others she sure as hell can put the fear of God into folks. Watching her threaten and yell at others is really quite funny, it makes me giggle, giggle hysterically actually. My grandpa on the other hand is quite laid back, but is physically incapable of yelling at people, that is just as hilarious watching him trying to yell as it is watching her actually yelling. He spoils us though, a lot and quite endlessly. I love them both, they make the world go round.

Anyway we had come home early from our little vacation/family reunion a couple of days early, and what we had come home to was not what we wanted to see.

"Mmm...Mommy it smells good in here I wonder what daddy is cooking." I had taken to calling him daddy when I was little. It had slipped one day and stuck the next.

"Why don't you go find out," my mother said coolly, "Because I sure as hell didn't know he could cook."

I opened the door first and walked quietly into the kitchen, I wanted to surprise my dad and brothers. What I saw surprised me, at the table were my step brothers, my step father and one of my mothers closest friends Kelly. I was watching, quite detached really, from the entire situation, until that Skank bitch leaned in for a kiss. The kiss was simple, sweet, a kiss for lovers, not people who are supposed to just have a mutual friend in my mother. Javi, Manny, Torry, and Te all cheered, while my mother walked up quietly behind me. Maybe you've never seen any one's heart break but I have, in that very instant, I witnessed the breaking of my mother's heart. That inner light she had about her had burnt out, and her kind eyes hardened.

"What the hell are y'all staring at?" my godmother, Aunt Aimee yelled. And time stopped. Angel turned to look at us while that skanky ass, strung out on crack, wanna be Mariah Carey, White WHORE had the damn nerve to look ashamed. What happened after that was almost like an outer body experience. I was aware of everything that was going on but acting on pure adrenaline. I dove for that skank whore, punching, scratching, pulling, banging, all in all I had a very barbaric moment. My mom got the bat that was in the living room and headed for Angel's baby, his top of the line, brand spanking new I-talian car. He only had it for about a week and Italian cars are for old men who are going through their mid-life crisis. Give me American Muscle any day. But on with the story, mommy grabbed a bat and headed for his new little car. And during all this my Aunt Aimee had found the time to go and cut his break line and come back in the house before we all noticed she was gone. The three of us were giving a whole new meaning to Carrie Underwood's Before He Cheats. Before it was all over and done with the Bitch had a few bald spots, quite a few gashes, and an urgent need for stitches. Before the week was over Angel's car was impounded, and deemed unfit to drive, because he crashed into a damn tree and got a concussion, poor tree.

Now those paying attention are probably wondering why Angel's sons didn't appear in the flashback. Well that might have something to do with my Aunt Aimee's daughter Lacey, now Lacey proves that being crazy as all hell is hereditary. Because her crazy ass held Manny hostage with a turkey carver.

"Any of you bitch ass motha fuckas move and I will cut this bitch like it's thanksgiving and his name is Tom." Lacey shouted maniacally. If I wasn't so pissed I would have laughed my ass off but I was, so I didn't. So while she was playing terrorist for a day, I was trying to kill that whore, my mother was reminding Angel why he shouldn't cheat, and my Aunt Aimee, my dear Aunt Aimee was mixing the drinks.