*****Andrés*****
When I first saw her, I knew I needed to have her.
Their resemblance was startling to the point that she is was driving me insane.
She entered my life and now, I don't know what to make of it anymore.
Her breathtaking eyes, her sil...
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I was frozen as Diana and Aurora worked on getting me ready.
I want Lucia green with jealousy . . .
Andrés' words echoed in my mind and they didn't register until Diana made me stand to look at myself in the mirror.
"Don't worry," she tried to soothe me.
"He invited her," I said trying to suppress the shock that was taking over me.
"If he invited her its because he really does want her to be jealous, but I highly doubt that he actually did invite her because no matter what, we all hate her," Diana joked, "Even the guards and Alejandro hated her."
"Are you seriously positive that he wouldn't invite her?" I asked.
"I am very, absolutely, completely, and totally posistive, that he would never invite her to an event thrown in your honour," she assured me.
I ran my hands over my dress, to smooth any invisible wrinkles.
The dress was a long, red, pleated chiffon dress, that had a jeweled ribbon around the middle. It was up to my ankles when I had heels on.
"Did you get this dress tailored?" I asked Diana.
"Andrés did before you left to Mexico," she stated calmly.
"How? I never gave him my measurements," I was confused.
"He got them from me and your uncle," Aurora said looking guilty.
"But why would he want to throw me a party?" at this point I really wanted to know why he went through the trouble of having a dress made for me.
Diana sighed and she led me from the mirror and she sat on my bed.
She beckoned me to sit with her and as soon as I did, she spoke, "He was told from Aurora and your uncle, that you never had a Quinceañera.
"Your uncle said it was because of some health issues," she looked at me nervously.
I was as stiff as an iron rod, "That's not true, but I told him and Aurora to say that if anyone asked.
"The real reason was because both of my parents died in a plane crash."
Diana put a hand on my arm and she whispered, "I am so sorry."
"They were leaving the U.S. and going to Acapulco, so they could take me with them," I whispered.
"You weren't born in the United States?"
"No," a small trail of tears leaked out of both my eyes, "they were going to take me with them, but they couldn't because while my parents had papers, I didn't have any at all."
I had been trying for years to hide the pain that was eating me alive, trying to tell myself that it was okay because I didn't remember them. And now, it was more painful than ever, because I do remember them. The way my mother would hold me close to her heart when I was falling asleep, or the way my father carried me on his shoulders when he would take us out to the beach.
