Perfect 10.0 (Part 5)
Adulio's point of view. The spanish translations are at the end of the chapter. Enjoy :)
Damn. If only she knew the effect she has on guys. She said that I behaved myself, that I didn’t grope her at all. Well, what I said was true. I was just trying to keep up with her kissing; I didn’t have any brain cells to spare. I wish I could touch her all over; touch her like every guy wants to touch her.
I’ve heard that she doesn’t really "date" guys; she just makes out with them. But from what she says, she doesn’t like makin’ out with guys unless they’re goin’ out with her. Interesting. Maybe it’s just ‘cuz I’m Latino; I understand that her friends probably don’t like me, but I feel like I’m fallin’ for her. I want to go out with her but she’s so closed off to me. Is it ’cuz she likes me? Hm…
I finally reached my house. It really hadn’t been that long of a walk, but every minute I was without Isabel felt like a century. It sounds sappy, but I feel that way completely. Ever since I saw her, thoughts of her have taken over my head. Every thought I have is connected to her. The way her dark brown hair hung down her back in gentle waves, the way her bright eyes changed colors, the way that she walked, talked, and acted, I’m thinking about her every minute.
"¡Hola papá! ¿Dónde estás?" I walked through the doorway and turned into the kitchen looking for him. I see him there, cooking, as usual at this time. His hair is in a state of dishevelment, and his shirt is wrinkled.
"Adulio, hola. Be quiet, el bebé duerme."
I take the frying pan from his hand and apologize, "Lo siento, papá"
"It’s okay; I just put him to sleep. He hasn’t slept all day." We do this a lot; go back and forth from Spanish to English, and English to Spanish. My father was born in México, as was I, but then we moved when I was about fifteen. My mom used to speak only Spanish around the house, so I’m fluent in Spanish, it’s my native tongue. English comes pretty naturally to me, but everyone says I have an accent. I learned English mostly from going to English speakin’ schools, but also my baby sitter taught me a bit. I taught my father most of what English he knows, but he picked up a lot from workin’ at his company.
That’s why we moved; my father’s company. He owns the Hotel Perfecto line of hotels. It’s crazy how much money he makes from just going around and checkin’ in on his different locations. The Hotel Perfecto started as just a little abandoned house in México. But soon there weren’t enough rooms for all the people that wanted to stay at the hotel and so he had to make it bigger. Than all the sudden it became the biggest hotel in México, and everyone wanted to go to it.
I never understood why it became so famous. It was just a small, family owned hotel. It was clean and nice, but it wasn’t anything fancy. Always loud because pets were aloud, the hotel was just a place to get away.
I worked there for awhile. I liked workin’ there ‘cuz you get to know the people when you see them every day. My father believes in knowing your customers personally. So, every day I would go make my rounds and ask Mrs. Rodriguez about her son who just married an actress, I’d talk to Mr. Lopez about his new puppy, and I’d get to talk to the pretty girl in room 209. The girl was tall with beautiful black curly hair, and had an amazing figure.
One night we both had had a little too much to drink, (in Mexico the drinking restrictions are a little more lax) she brought me into her room. Normally, I wouldn’t have agreed to do anything, but in my drunken state, I didn’t think anything could be better for me. She practically threw me onto the bed, and took off my clothes. She told me she loved me, she told me that I was her first kiss. Pshh, she was way too experienced to not have kissed before.
She was my first…you know. I had kissed before, but never had I gone that far. When she finally got me to take off my pants, I fumbled around while she grew impatient.
"It should be better than this. It’s supposed to be great, but this is just stupid." She had said in Spanish.
"I’m sorry; I don’t know what to do. I’ve never had sex ya know don’t blame me because I’m inexperienced." She rolled away from me and threw me a dirty look. Then she took my pants and boxers from the floor and threw them at me. Picking up her own clothes she covered up her perfectly shaped body. My eyes lingered on her chest as she covered it up with her bra, a pink one that had stars on it where the nipples were. I put my shirt on that was lying next to me on the bed.
"Well, then I guess I’ll go now." I said to her as I get up.
"Yes. Go."
I remember bring confused about why girls were like that. Always getting mad at the guys when we didn’t know what to do or say. Like the, "Do these pants make me look fat?" are we supposed to tell the truth, or lie and say that they look fine?
But now I know why girls are so weird like that…hormones. It’s all about ‘what time of the month’ it is.
A baby crying brought me back to the present. My dad sucked in a breath and then let it out real fast. I put the frying pan on a burner that wasn’t hot. I realized that I had been stirring the vegetables for awhile now.
"I’ll get him papá." I say to my father just as he was about to go to the back room where the baby was.
I walked through the hallway that led to the smallest of the three rooms that our house had. I liked this room the best because it was the farthest away from the kitchen and living room. You could get your privacy in this room, but any other room is too close to all the main parts of the house to get quiet.
My little brother was standing up in his crib, crying his head off. His small hands gripped the side on the crib as he bounced up and down. When he saw me he stopped crying and his face broke into a grin.
"Dulio, Dulio!" He squealed, using his nick name for me.
"Hey hermano menor. How you doin’ little brother?" I picked him up then sat down in the rocking chair that was set up in a corner of the room. He hung onto my neck then hugged me real tight.
"Le echo de menos." He said into my neck.
"I missed you too Benito. Were you good for papá?" I asked him
"Sí, esté muy bien." Benedicto is my little brothers real name, but we call him Benito for short. Benito doesn’t speak a lot of English, because Spanish is easier to learn than English. My brother was three, but he was small for his age. He had blonde hair, just like my mother use to have. His skin was as smooth as baby skin could be, and just as dark as mine was. But his eyes were something else; they were a bright, vivid green. We have no idea how he got green eyes, since my dad, my mom, and I all have light brown eyes. I can tell already that the girls will all be asking him out when he gets older.
"Dulio, Dulio. El papá le quiere."
"Thanks little man." He understood English fine, he just didn’t speak it. Now that I was listening, I could hear my father calling us for dinner. "Let’s go," I told my brother.
I put him down and held his hand as we walked down the hall and into the kitchen to eat.
****************************************************
Hola papa- hello dad
Donde Estas- where are you
El bebe duerme- the baby is sleeping
Lo siento- i'm sorry
hermano menor- little brother
le echo de menos- i missed you
si, este muy bien- yes, i was very good
el papa le quiere- dad wants you
Hope that helps a bit :)
I’ve heard that she doesn’t really "date" guys; she just makes out with them. But from what she says, she doesn’t like makin’ out with guys unless they’re goin’ out with her. Interesting. Maybe it’s just ‘cuz I’m Latino; I understand that her friends probably don’t like me, but I feel like I’m fallin’ for her. I want to go out with her but she’s so closed off to me. Is it ’cuz she likes me? Hm…
I finally reached my house. It really hadn’t been that long of a walk, but every minute I was without Isabel felt like a century. It sounds sappy, but I feel that way completely. Ever since I saw her, thoughts of her have taken over my head. Every thought I have is connected to her. The way her dark brown hair hung down her back in gentle waves, the way her bright eyes changed colors, the way that she walked, talked, and acted, I’m thinking about her every minute.
"¡Hola papá! ¿Dónde estás?" I walked through the doorway and turned into the kitchen looking for him. I see him there, cooking, as usual at this time. His hair is in a state of dishevelment, and his shirt is wrinkled.
"Adulio, hola. Be quiet, el bebé duerme."
I take the frying pan from his hand and apologize, "Lo siento, papá"
"It’s okay; I just put him to sleep. He hasn’t slept all day." We do this a lot; go back and forth from Spanish to English, and English to Spanish. My father was born in México, as was I, but then we moved when I was about fifteen. My mom used to speak only Spanish around the house, so I’m fluent in Spanish, it’s my native tongue. English comes pretty naturally to me, but everyone says I have an accent. I learned English mostly from going to English speakin’ schools, but also my baby sitter taught me a bit. I taught my father most of what English he knows, but he picked up a lot from workin’ at his company.
That’s why we moved; my father’s company. He owns the Hotel Perfecto line of hotels. It’s crazy how much money he makes from just going around and checkin’ in on his different locations. The Hotel Perfecto started as just a little abandoned house in México. But soon there weren’t enough rooms for all the people that wanted to stay at the hotel and so he had to make it bigger. Than all the sudden it became the biggest hotel in México, and everyone wanted to go to it.
I never understood why it became so famous. It was just a small, family owned hotel. It was clean and nice, but it wasn’t anything fancy. Always loud because pets were aloud, the hotel was just a place to get away.
I worked there for awhile. I liked workin’ there ‘cuz you get to know the people when you see them every day. My father believes in knowing your customers personally. So, every day I would go make my rounds and ask Mrs. Rodriguez about her son who just married an actress, I’d talk to Mr. Lopez about his new puppy, and I’d get to talk to the pretty girl in room 209. The girl was tall with beautiful black curly hair, and had an amazing figure.
One night we both had had a little too much to drink, (in Mexico the drinking restrictions are a little more lax) she brought me into her room. Normally, I wouldn’t have agreed to do anything, but in my drunken state, I didn’t think anything could be better for me. She practically threw me onto the bed, and took off my clothes. She told me she loved me, she told me that I was her first kiss. Pshh, she was way too experienced to not have kissed before.
She was my first…you know. I had kissed before, but never had I gone that far. When she finally got me to take off my pants, I fumbled around while she grew impatient.
"It should be better than this. It’s supposed to be great, but this is just stupid." She had said in Spanish.
"I’m sorry; I don’t know what to do. I’ve never had sex ya know don’t blame me because I’m inexperienced." She rolled away from me and threw me a dirty look. Then she took my pants and boxers from the floor and threw them at me. Picking up her own clothes she covered up her perfectly shaped body. My eyes lingered on her chest as she covered it up with her bra, a pink one that had stars on it where the nipples were. I put my shirt on that was lying next to me on the bed.
"Well, then I guess I’ll go now." I said to her as I get up.
"Yes. Go."
I remember bring confused about why girls were like that. Always getting mad at the guys when we didn’t know what to do or say. Like the, "Do these pants make me look fat?" are we supposed to tell the truth, or lie and say that they look fine?
But now I know why girls are so weird like that…hormones. It’s all about ‘what time of the month’ it is.
A baby crying brought me back to the present. My dad sucked in a breath and then let it out real fast. I put the frying pan on a burner that wasn’t hot. I realized that I had been stirring the vegetables for awhile now.
"I’ll get him papá." I say to my father just as he was about to go to the back room where the baby was.
I walked through the hallway that led to the smallest of the three rooms that our house had. I liked this room the best because it was the farthest away from the kitchen and living room. You could get your privacy in this room, but any other room is too close to all the main parts of the house to get quiet.
My little brother was standing up in his crib, crying his head off. His small hands gripped the side on the crib as he bounced up and down. When he saw me he stopped crying and his face broke into a grin.
"Dulio, Dulio!" He squealed, using his nick name for me.
"Hey hermano menor. How you doin’ little brother?" I picked him up then sat down in the rocking chair that was set up in a corner of the room. He hung onto my neck then hugged me real tight.
"Le echo de menos." He said into my neck.
"I missed you too Benito. Were you good for papá?" I asked him
"Sí, esté muy bien." Benedicto is my little brothers real name, but we call him Benito for short. Benito doesn’t speak a lot of English, because Spanish is easier to learn than English. My brother was three, but he was small for his age. He had blonde hair, just like my mother use to have. His skin was as smooth as baby skin could be, and just as dark as mine was. But his eyes were something else; they were a bright, vivid green. We have no idea how he got green eyes, since my dad, my mom, and I all have light brown eyes. I can tell already that the girls will all be asking him out when he gets older.
"Dulio, Dulio. El papá le quiere."
"Thanks little man." He understood English fine, he just didn’t speak it. Now that I was listening, I could hear my father calling us for dinner. "Let’s go," I told my brother.
I put him down and held his hand as we walked down the hall and into the kitchen to eat.
****************************************************
Hola papa- hello dad
Donde Estas- where are you
El bebe duerme- the baby is sleeping
Lo siento- i'm sorry
hermano menor- little brother
le echo de menos- i missed you
si, este muy bien- yes, i was very good
el papa le quiere- dad wants you
Hope that helps a bit :)
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