𝐌𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐲 • 𝐇.𝐒

00.10

"No, I like you though. Plus you live next door." August chuckles softly

"Think about it." Harry shrugs, "it's only been a month."

"Okay, thank you."

+

"Mi rucaaaaaaaa!"

"Hola, chiquito." August smiles, hugging her cousin tightly.

"Come on, we've got plenty of drinks and Lourdes made tacos." Wuebo smiles

"Gracias, Wuebo this is Harry." August smiles

"Oh, I'm Wuebo." He neglects Harry's offer to shake hands. Tucking his hand in his pockets.

"Come on, let's get some tacos." August smiles, moving away from her cousin after giving him a kiss to the cheek.

"August!" Lourdes squeals

"Hello, mama." August giggles, hugging her tightly.

"So, this is the white boy Lyisa just told me about. You know better to  bring crackers around the guys." Lourdes sighs

"Por favor ya, callate ello es-"

"It's fine." Harry shrugs

"Go, go dance or something."

"I'm sorry about that." August apologizes

"No, it's fine. I don't blame them, I know how Mexicans are treated." Harry states

"They just... don't care for whites. I mean just last week my other cousin and his wife went to Sam's. A lady stopped them and asked them to stop speaking Spanish, she called security and told them it made her afraid." August says

"What kind of shit is that?" Harry scoffs

"I'm telling you, I can't stand them. I'm sorry, I know plenty white folks that are not racist and they appreciate brown people- I mean not all Mexicans are brown but you know what I mean?" August smiles

"Yes, I do." Harry nods

"Well, let's dance. Please."

They dance, but Harry cannot seem to ignore the stares of the people beside him he appreciates so much. His white skin and green eyes is not only a threat but can you blame the Mexicans that have been looked down by that color... those eyes.

Can you blame the brown women and men who have been looked down at by those eyes?

"Despacito, quiero respirar tu cuello despacito, deja que te diga cosas al oído!"

"Get down, get dirty." August drunkly mumbles as she twerks on her cousins waist. Her cousin cackles loudly, her long red nails digging into her waist.

Harry simply smiles, leaning back to sit on a couch having a red cup in his hand. He brings his mouth to the rim of the rum to sip the sweet fizzy tequila. Smoothly, it travels down his throat creating a swarm of bees down in his stomach as soon as the drink splashes on the lining of his stomach. Like a boy hitting a beehive full of bees, it erupts in his stomach.

Supplying that feeling of comfort within the liquid, he watches August have fun with her cousins. Dancing crazily to some Spanish song that he actually likes although he cannot make out the words. He'll ask August later.

"Harry, dance with me!" August says, her face carrying a soft glow of red. Her toothy smile inviting him into her.

"No, thank you." Harry smiles

"Ah, whatever." August waves her hand, resuming into her dance frenzy- now to a different Spanish song that seems like he's saying "Shake It".

His drink is empty and although his tongue craves for more of the tropical punch drink. He sits, ass glued to the leather couch unable to fight the discomfort and comfort he feels from these people.

"My mama told me to ask you if you wanted something to eat. Do you?" A small boy, with a toothy smile asks although he is missing some of his teeth. Two of his lower bottom teeth coated with a gold mask.

"Um, what is there?"

"What is there... Oh, we have tamales, tacos, soup with cow tongue or stomach. Yuck! We have salsa, French fries from Wing Stop." He says, his hand skimming over his maroon Polo shirt.

"How about some tamales, with fries from Wing Stop." Harry smiles

"With Salsa? Green or Red?"

"Which is hotter?"

"To me? The green one." The kid shrugs

"Then that one.. I can get it if you want."

"No mami says I can bring it to you." The kid disappears before he can say anything, Harry turns watching the kid tell his mother something.

August sits down next to him, her skin feels cold and she smells of alcohol and weed. The curvy, weightless smoke wraps around her finger, disappearing into thin lines. "You want a hit, this is really good weed all the way from Mexico. Pre packaged, that's how you know it's good."

"Sure, you get your weed from Mexico?" Harry asks

"Some from Mexico, or some from this guy by my house named Collar." August shrugs, "they're both.. good, you know?"

"Nice name." Harry snickers, grabbing the blunt from her hands placing it near his mouth where he inhales deeply. Holding his breath, while watching the lights flicker on and off causing an angry mother to slap a boy's hand away.

He lets out the thick smoke, letting the drug cradle him within it's arms.

"Here you go." The kid says bringing back a plate loaded with orange rice, french fries, sour cream, four tacos, two tamales, and a glob of green salsa.

"Hey, Baby get me a plate." August laughs

He mumbles an, "Okay." before leaving to his mother. "Is that his name?" Harry asks

"Yes, Baby Ruiz." August nods before leaning over Harry to crush the bud of the joint on a metal bowl.

"Hey, when we get home. Stay the night, yeah? I got some new toys and maybe we can try them out. I've really been missing what you got in those pants."

"S- sure." Harry stutters