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Its Thanksgiving evening and I was already freaking out.

I was cooking the little things in the afternoon with my mom when I came back from having breakfast at Cj's house with Lisette and I completely didn't forget I invited Jahseh over for dinner.

If he actually shows up, everything should go well in my opinion, but I know he's intertwined with confrontation, so I don't know how this is going to play out considering my family doesn't hold their tongue either.

I love that he has his own style and hat he doesn't care, but if there was a not so mean way of telling him to not dress like his usual self then I would've been told him.

I was in Lisettes room pacing up and down, while she was on the bed trying to reason with me saying everything is going to work out fine.

"If it doesn't then what? You know Dad isn't even the hard parent to be on good terms with, its Ma Nelly." I said, wondering why my mom had to be so difficult.

"But you already know, our family is a bunch of gangbanging young boys who smoke weed, does X even smoke?" She asked,

I just shrugged my shoulders, not wanting to answer her.

"And anyway, if our parents don't like him, who says you still can't be with him?" She said, looking in her closet for something to wear.

She was so right, and after having another argument with Cj about Jahseh coming to the diner and me telling him to suck it up, I'm just going to have to suck it up too.

Oh shit, what am I going to wear?

"Lisette, what am I going to wear?" I whined to her.

"You know you're 18 right?" She asked, laughing at me.

"I know how to dress either really casual or really fancy, I don't know what you wear to in-between shit," I said, defending myself.

"I think you should straighten your hair." She suggests, I immediately shook my head no.

"You know how long your hair is? Shrinkage is a bitch." She said, taking a piece of my hair and pulling it.

"You know I'm afraid of heat damage," I said, looking at the flat iron.

"We both have curly hair, I'll make sure you won't get it."

We both started on my hair, taking about an hour to finish the straightening process.

While Lisette was doing my hair, I was analyzing her, wondering why she doesn't have a boyfriend. People always used to compare the both of us, saying that she was the better sister, and in all aspects.

From looks, to body, to grades.

Don't get me wrong, my hips don't lie and I worked hard to get my ass to where it's at, but my breasts aren't growing, they're staying at a B cup.

She had perfect perky C's and don't even get me started on how banging her lower half was.

She was salutatorian in her graduating class, getting a full ride to NYU to become a neurosurgeon, and she's a fashion minor.

I just got regular A's and I'm doing a gap year.

"You look nervous." She said, finished her last piece of hair.

"I am, it's just the whole Jahseh thing," I assured her I was okay, standing up and playing with my long ends, liking how my hair came out.

I thanked her and I went to my room, looking through the closet to find an outfit.

When it comest family functions, it always comes down to whos the best dressed, which household. For the last two years, it was us, and I'm trying to look delicious because my man is supposed to be pulling through.

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