Chapter 4

                                                         Chapter Four 
                                      ~~~~~ Alex -the grand tour ~~~~~

Mr. Smith could not stop laughing when he saw the footage of the guys- I mean ladies. He was almost rolling on the floor with laughter. His eyes went wide with shock and surprise when he saw a video of my performance in the skate park. He looked at me and then at the video as if to prove it true.

“Alexandria, this is awesome! Where did you learn how to skate like this?” He asked putting the phone down and looking at me for a response.

“I move around a lot, so I pick up a few things along the way, and please call me Alex.” I tell him looking at the floor and playing with my hands.

“You are just full of surprises aren’t you? What else can you do?” He gave me his undivided attention. Rachel was next to him on the couch also listening carefully.

Rachael hugs his waist with one arm while still keeping her gaze on me. Mr. Smith puts an arm around her shoulder swiftly as if by reflex. The way they move together and care for each other is nice to witness. There love towards each other is shown without difficulty.

“Well I learned karate and kickboxing as long as other martial arts and self-defense fighting techniques in Texas. I know how to cook many types of food. I learned how to play the piano, guitar, violin, flute, clarinet, and many other instruments in all the places I was taken too. I basically take something from everywhere I go.” Admitting all this is new and strange. I’ve never actually told anyone of my abilities, yet here I am telling them to people who I barely know.

“Wow, so you can cook, what kind of food do you cook?” asked Rachel with a glint in her eyes. A smile appears on both their faces.

‘Out of all you just said, she only picked up your cooking?’ Maybe they really like food.

“I can cook Honduran food thanks to my mom and dad. I can cook Mexican food and Chinese or if preferred Japanese food thanks to Mrs. Khan, the lady I used to work for when I was 12. I can cook basically anything on food network. Oh but I can’t bake. I always burn cookies and the brownies turn out like rocks. I don’t know why.” They laughed when I said I couldn’t bake but were so intrigued by me that I suddenly felt uncomfortable.

Mr. Smith raised his eyebrow and said, “You can cook Honduran food?”

‘Once again, out of all you just said he only picked up that you can cook Honduran food. Really?’ just shut up. ‘Fine.’ Wait what? ‘I’ll be quiet.’ Really? Just like that? ‘Yeah.’

“Hell yeah- I mean yes, yes I can.” I say quickly trying to correct myself. He laughs but still looks surprised. “I used to work for a Honduran lady who ran a restaurant. I cleaned the floors while I saw how she cooked. My mother and father had taught me the basics and the rest I learned from Mrs. Morales and her husband.” I explain.

They looked at each other and at the same time nod to each other in agreement.

‘I am missing something?’ I thought you said that you would keep quiet. ‘Well I was quiet.’ It was nice while it lasted.

“Can you make something for us?” Mrs. Smith said with a pleading face. Mr. Smith just had a wide smile at the thought.

‘Do they even know where Honduras is?’ I don’t know. ‘Please don’t tell me they thinks it’s in Mexico ‘cause I’ll go off on them’ chill dude. If they asked me to cook it and I explained I can cook both, then they know. ‘Hey I’m just saying.’ then don’t say.

With that said we were at the store buying all the ingredients. Some of the ingredients were easy to find while others has to be hunt down. Later I was in the kitchen preparing a traditional Honduran dish. Their kitchen provided everything I need to cook the dish including the best gas stove I’ve ever had to pleasure to cook in. The pans were so easy to work with unlike the pots I’ve used before. I opened all the windows and doors in the kitchen to let the smell out as I cooked seriously not wanting the house to smell like Honduran food for the next few hours. Their house was not about to smell bad because of me if this did not work out.

‘You honestly doubt my cooking abilities.’ Yours yes, mine heck to the no. ‘you are one ignorant Honduran.’

The first thing I made sure to do was to marinate and fry the chicken at a low steady flame with all the right spices. Then went on to fry the green bananas- which were not easy to find since no one here knows that green bananas can be used to cook with. I cut the cabbage and started making the tomato sauce.

Rachael and Mike just sat on the stools that were on the side on the counter as they watched me cook. They oohed and ahhed as I chopped furiously making sure that none flew or fell to the floor.

When everything was done the dish was put together. I first put the fried bananas around the plate making sure that they looked presentable. Then the cabbage was arranged next on top of the green bananas. Everyone chose a leg or thigh so that was put on top of everything. The sauce was poured all over the food. To top it off I added thousand dressing to give it a kick- I was too lazy to make my own. No silverware was put out because it is not necessary. This dish is meant to be eaten with your fingers using the bananas to grab everything.

“This looks amazing.” Rachel exclaims looking at the food in front of her with delight. She bent down and smelled the food. I chuckled at her actions as she grabbed a big bite with her fingers and stuffed it in her mouth. Her eyes lit up as she tasted the food. “Oh my dear God, what is this?” Her mouth was still full so I laughed when she talked with her mouth open and grabbed another bite.

“It’s called pollo frito or fried chicken. It’s a traditional Honduran dish. My mom made it all the time for my dad and I since we always asked her to.” I tell her remembering my mom’s cooking. My cooking will never be as good as hers, but the Smiths seem to enjoy it either way.

Mr. Smith took a huge bite and did the same things Rachel had done earlier. His eyes lit up and he bent his head back and groaned. “OH god, this is so good!” He went down and dug in.

They were done in about 15 minutes and were still licking their fingers even after their plate was clean.

“You are so cooking tomorrow.” Mr. Smith said picking up his plate and taking it to the kitchen. We followed behind him with our own plates. I was amazed at them. They actually like me. They’re actually complementing me. Why would they waste their time?

“Hey wait you’ve been here almost a week and all you’ve done I lock yourself up in your room like if you’re grounded or something. That’s going to change right now. How would you like a grand tour of the Smith residence?” Mr. Smith says drying his hands.

He was right. I’ve been sleeping the whole week. No nightmares. No pain, well my shoulder did hurt for the first few days, but other than that nothing. My regular routine was that I ate and went to the room and slept like baby. I haven’t slept like this in years. I’ve been catching on my sleep for the past few days and I love the feeling.

“That would be great Mr. Smith.” I said beaming with excitement. I figured the first day that they had to have at least 15 rooms in this house, and that is not including the bathrooms and closets.

“No no please, call me Mike. Mr. Smith is my father.” He said with a smile.

‘Dang so they are really teenagers at heart.’ Well they are pretty young.

“That would be great, Mike.” Once again his name like Rachel’s felt foreign coming out of my mouth.

I am so not used to calling people who are older by their first name. My parents taught me to respect people no matter their age and never to disrespect them, especially if you are under their roof.

“Great, let’s begin the grand tour shall we?” He grabbed Rachel by the waist and headed out the kitchen.

I had already seen the huge living room and their enormous kitchen. I had never seen their whole house so I was both excited and scared to actually want to explorer a house that I might have to leave in a few weeks or months.

The house is simply amazing. They both showed me their offices which were both huge and had their personalities expressed. They showed me their guest rooms, which in my opinion was a home away from home. They showed me where all the bathrooms were located. I memorized where each room was located and which rooms to avoid in the future.

The music room was next and my jaw dropped to the floor when I saw it. There are brand new guitars, drums, speakers, microphones, a piano, a violin, and many other instruments in the room.

“You want to go in?” Whether it was Rachel or mike who said it, I have no idea. My focus was on the most beautiful instruments I’ve ever had the pleasure to see.

I stepped inside to get a better view of the room. The walls are black with white music notes running along them. I turn to face them. “May I?” I ask looking at them. It would be impolite to touch something as valuable as the things inside the room without asking.

They both nod their heads at the same time. I go to the guitar first. I grab it and sit down on the stool. It is slightly out of tune but I fix it in a matter of seconds. Soon I was playing scales and a few songs my mom taught me.

The drums were next to catch my attention, I started out slow but then got faster until I could not take it anymore. I eventually went to every instrument in the room.

The violin was by far my favorite. It has a strong wooden structure with a smooth bow. The sound that came out of it was soothing like always. Since it was also an electric violin, I plugged it in making everything I played louder. I stopped playing it and finally went to the last instrument in the room I had not played yet.

I sat on the stool with my hands on top of the keys for a few moments. Taking a deep breath I started to play. I imagined playing with my dad again. I saw his face light up when he played with me on the piano. I saw him smiling at me once again. I saw him again.

The song ended too soon. Tears are running down my checks but this time I let them flow. This is how I always wanted to remember him, not like I do in the nightmares. I want to remember the days when I was happy to be alive not the days when I wanted to die.

Wiping the tears I turn around and find both Rachel and Mike also with tears in their eyes.

‘Dad always said that the music your figures produced could captivate every human heart.’

“I’m sorry.” I say looking down again. Rachel suddenly comes to me and grabs my hands. She lifts my chin so that I can see her face.

“What are you apologizing for?” she asks. Mike joins her side and seems to be asking himself the same question.

“I didn’t mean to disrupt your life. I know I can be a burden. I will ask Cassandra to come pick me up in the morning.” I say looking down again but once again she lifts my chin up.

“Why in the world would you do that?” she asks in disbelief. I look at them both before answering.

“Everything about me intrigues you both. Every little fact about me, you find fascinating. But, I can’t help but ask, why?” They’re both quiet so I continue.

“When my parents died I basically raised myself. I taught myself everything I know. My life has been filled with pain and anger. But, since I came here, I don’t have the nightmares, I don’t feel the pain.

“For the first time in years I feel happy. For the first time in years I feel safe, but I know it’s just temporary. I know it will end soon, so why bother messing with your life.” Once again I find tears rolling down my checks. I clean them with my hand and stand up.

“Could you please consider staying?” Mike says now behind me. I turn around to face him.

“Why?” I ask seriously confused.

“Because we want you to stay.” Rachel said coming forward.

“Please don’t say that. In a few days you’ll regret meeting me. Everyone does eventually.” I start to head out the room but Rachel catches up to me in seconds. She grabs my arm gently and spins me around.

“Can you give us a month?” she lets go of my arm. She realizes the confusion on my face and continues. “Give us a month, and if you still want to leave at the end of the month, then we will let you. All we ask for is a month.” she says looking at me straight in the eyes.

“OK.” I say.

‘This is going to be interesting.’ why would you say that? ‘I give you a week before they want you out.‘ We will have to see now won’t we?

“Oh and Alex?” she says as I’m walking away. I turn around to face her once again. “Wake up early tomorrow.” she says walking forward. A smile appeared on her face as she walked pass me swiftly grabbing Mike’s hand.

‘What was that about?’ I have no idea.

—–

I was at the park again, flying through the air. I saw myself hit the sign but this time I felt no pain. She was next to me in seconds. Once again I saw her captivating eyes. 

I froze at the closeness. All I had to do was lean in a little closer. Her breath felt amazing on my face. She looked at my lips not breathing a word, while my own breathing sped up. My heart may have skipped a few beats as I stared in those blue eyes.                                                

She leaned in closer but stopped mere centimeters from my lips. She grabs my head and turns it gently. “Wake up.” She whispered in my ear.

—–

I instantly open my eyes stand sit up.

‘What the hell?’ did I actually just have a dream? ‘You haven’t had a dream in five years, and you dream about her?’ I didn’t mean to.

I get out of bed and take a cold shower attempting to take her out of my head, but it doesn’t work. Hot water turned out to be my enemy. I can never stand hot water touching my skin, no matter how cold it is in the winter time.

Since the room has its own bathroom, it takes less time for me to get ready than usual.

I put on a black shirt over an orange undershirt. I unbutton the first few bottoms on the black shirt so the undershirt is visible. I grab some light blue jeans and put them on. I only have the ripped pair of converse shoes, so I put those on and comb my hair into a tight high ponytail. The last thing I put on is my favorite black cap. Grabbing my black masking tape wallet, I head out the door. (It’s exactly what it sounds like; a wallet made out of masking tape it takes skill to make but it is possible)

No one was awake except the maid who was cleaning the living room so I started making breakfast. I put on an apron and start cooking another Honduran traditional plate.

When I was done, Rachel and mike finally decided to come downstairs. “What smells so delicious?” said Rachel coming behind me. I turn around and face them.

“Good morning.” I tell them putting my hands together and slightly bowing my head. It’s a tradition that has stuck with me.

‘Mom and dad would be so proud!’

“Good morning.” they say in unison imitating my actions. They give me weird looks but say nothing. I move out of the way so they can sit down and eat.

“Now, these are called baliadas. They are basically flour tortillas with beans, eggs, avocado, cheese, and mantequia which is almost like sour cream but better.” I sit down and enjoy them as both Rachel and mike look at each other.

“What’s wrong?” I ask them wiping my mouth

“I haven’t had baliadas since grandma died 15 years ago.” she says with a sad smile. She grabs one baliada and tastes it. Mike does the same. Once again they complement my cooking and eat it with delight.

“So you’ve had these before.” I ask them.

“Yeah. My grandma used to cook these almost every morning for us. She was half Honduran and half American.” Rachael spoke with so much respect.

“You ready?” Rachel asks once we’re done cleaning up. “Yeah.” I say adjusting my cap.

…

‘Come on! She’s joking right?‘ I really hope so. ‘There is no way I’m going through this again!’ 

“We’re not here to shop for dresses.” Rachel says looking at my reaction. I let out a sigh and follow her in. “We’re here to shop for school clothes.” she says pushing the door and going inside the expensive looking store.

Three hours and 14 stores later, I have enough clothes and shoes for the entire kid population for a town in Honduras. Rachel seriously went crazy. She had me try on so many shirts, jeans, shorts, shoes, even hats with some jewelry. I was so tired afterwords that I had to sit down before my legs gave out on me. We stopped for some food and something to drink in the food court before going home.

When arriving, Mike had ordered Chinese and was watching a movie on the couch. He looked up and smiled when he saw Rachel. He got off the couch and ran to hug Rachel. He picked her up and spun her around. He kissed her in the air and put her down.

“I have a feeling that you missed me, Mr. Smith.” she said with a smile. “You have no idea, baby!” he said leaning down to kiss her again.

I left them alone and went upstairs.

‘They are exactly like mom and dad.’ yeah, I know.

After a few minutes all the clothes and shoes are arranged in the walk in closet. The closet is huge and almost full after I finish hanging the new clothes.

Leaving the closet I walk over to the bed and lie down. The sky is already filled with stars again. I close my eyes and say a quick prayer before I fall deeply asleep.

                                              ~~~~~Kylie – Enough Is Enough ~~~~~

“She haunts me. I think about her every moment of the day. How can this be when I don’t even know her name? How can she invade my mind, if I won’t see her ever again?” Kylie said out loud to herself while pacing in her room. She thought if she admitted it and said it out loud; it would all just go away.

There of course, was no such luck. She only made herself cry at the thought of not seeing her again. It killed her when she thought about losing her, even though she was never hers to begin with.

She got up to hang up yet another picture of the girl. The wall was now filled with the girl’s face. There were pictures of the girl in the park and in the hospital room. Kylie remembered every detail about the girl. Her curly black hair, her dark eyes that light up when she smiles, her perfect pink lips, and her favorite feature, her incredibly adorable dimples were all represented in her drawings.

Kylie took down a picture she had drawn when the girl was in her arms. She caressed the picture, imagining what it would be like to touch her check, to play with her hair, to touch her dimples, to kiss her lips-

“Whoa! What?” she said putting the picture down. ‘What am I thinking?’ she mentally slapped herself as she took down the pictures of the girl. She took down every single picture, to which her surprise were 53. She did not throw them away but instead put them away in her desk drawer.

She went to bed and once again dreamt about her mysterious girl. When waking up, Kylie had made up her mind: 

She would forget about the girl once and for all.

——–

Hola! Again I hope you are enjoying your day and basically enjoying your life to the fullest. I was asked to stop writing this so I did for a while but then was told more than once to keep going so I am. I hope I make your time wroth while, and if lesbian stories are not your thing, than please just move on to another story and don’t leave rude messages. If you feel uncomfortable reading about the love between a girl and girl, then simply stop reading and move on. Not to be mean or rude or anything it’s just that I’m sick of people treating us like Shit just because we want to be with a girl and not a guy.

“Que Dios me Los bendiga hoy y siempre!”

“May God bless you today and always!”

Sorry it took so long to upload, I was busy these past few days with school coming along. My junior year promises to be a busy one. I know this chapter was a little dull but the next one will be better I promise.

Oh and the YouTube video has nothing to do with the story I just can’t get it out of my head!

Thanks for reading!

Should I keep going?

-ALBA LUZ :^)