Snippet #2489439

"He what?..Wait what? Ay dios. " Naya wasn't lucid enough for this. What the hell was Daryl doing here? And why were Daryl and Dante suddenly so close? "What the hell happened while I was sleep??" She muttered rubbing her eyes. Her vision was swimming in front of her, and maybe if she wasn't seeing double of everyone she could understand the scene unfolding in her living room. Drinking in Daryl's appearance with tired eyes, she noticed he was holding an ice bag over his crotch, and her gaze traveled to Dante. "Did you break his manhood while I was asleep?...that's hilarious." She chuckled, ignoring Daryl's indignant yell in the background.

"I might not be able to have kids anymore. What part of that is hilarious, you dick??" Daryl grunted, his face disintegrating into a pout as he stared at Naya.

She smirked, and swiped his phone, turning off the Flappy Bird game. "The part where your future girlfriend is going to thank me, because you suck in bed anyways." She tossed his phone onto the table, before getting up off the couch to stretch. Daryl was silently fuming, and he left her alone to go help Dante in the kitchen again. He couldn't match wits with her, and she liked that about him. As far as boyfriends go, Daryl was a mistake. He was too possessive. Too immature. And too much for her to deal with. Naya was so busy with school and work, she didn't have time for his BS. He was the perfect ex-boyfriend though, and she considered him a true friend. Her bro-mance with him was still very much alive.

Before she could ruminate about the males in her life some more, a light bulb went off in her head. Struck by a sudden realization, her fingers gripped the edge of the couch and she vaulted over the side, stumbling into the kitchen. Grabbing Dante's arm, she shook him rather violently. "You said he called all of my friends?...ALL of them?" She demanded, her eyes wide. Naya knew people from the old neighborhood back home. She knew people from the college. But Daryl wouldn't just call her friends, he would call her family too. Naya hadn't spoken to her mother in years. And her brother wasn't in the country. So that meant there's only one family member he could have called. Whirling on Daryl, she grabbed his collar and had a very long inner debate on whether she should strangle him or not. "Please tell me you didn't call my abuelita."

"Now Naya...."

Daryl began, but she didn't let him finish.

"Dammit Daryl." She yelled, slamming him against the sink.

Panicking a little, she let him go, and tried to gather her nerves. Darting over to the counter she grabbed her phone. Dialing Rosa's number, she bit her lip nervously as the dialtone echoed in her ear. She was dizzy with anxiety, and had begun to pace back and forth as the phone rang. Rosa's snarky tone greeted her a second later. "Chica what's this I hear about a marriage celebration. This better be for your brother dammit."

"No. No. It's for me." Ignoring the surprised stares from the boys in the kitchen she had to physically bury the urge to chew on her fingernails. "Look. That week you sent me to Vegas. I met a guy. We got drunk off our asses. I woke up married. I'm still married. And now my abuelita is coming, and I can't breathe." Naya could feel the pressure building up her in stomach, like a slowly awakening volcano. Fear was clawing at her insides like a living thing. Her abuelita was hardcore. Born in a time that no longer existed, Naya's grandmother was a strict disciplinarian, with a firm sense of right and wrong. The old woman related everything to religion, and she thought Naya was a "spawn of the devil." Or some other crazy nonsense. Because she was pursuing music as a career, there was no hope of Naya ever seeing eye to eye with her grandmother-who thought a woman's only place was in the kitchen.

All of these thoughts were surfacing as Naya was on the phone with Rosa. Sensing her friend was in the midst of a panic attack, Rosa sighed. "I can't believe you didn't tell me...And I had to find out third party about this Naya, that's some cold ass shit...But you're still my girl and I can't let you deal with that crone by yourself. The boys won't know how to deal with her...Who invited her anyways?"

A strangled noise left Naya's throat. "...Daryl."

"Figures...Well, I'll be there in ten. Try to survive till then....And I want details about this marriage later."

A deep, shuddering breath escaped Naya as she hung up the phone. Turning to the two boys that were staring at her, she shook her head ruefully. "Alright here's the deal, I don't care who you mingle with at this party because everyone's cool. But my grandmother's coming and she's evil incarnate. You are not allowed to say anything to her." She pointed to Daryl with a frown, and her gaze sidled over to Dante. "And she's going to be asking you deep probing questions..." She shook her head. "She's really old school. She doesn't believe in divorce, and she's going to want to know everything about you. Where you come from. What you do for a living. What religion you are, and when she's done interrogating you, she will start asking you all the relationship questions, how serious you are, if you want kids, if you love me." She prattled off the list with a sigh and rubbed her forehead.

Her gaze softened minutely when she glanced at Dante. "I'm just warning you now, before she gets here, so you don't get blindsided by her crazy."

Standing up off the chair she was sitting on, she mumbled something incoherently. "What a glorious day to be wed."

Rolling her eyes, she walked over to her room to shower, and change.

No one wanted to smell funky during a party.