My Parents Missed My High School Graduation For My Sister’s Gender Reveal Party. When I Asked Them To Reschedule, My Mom Said, “Stop Being Selfish. You Can’t Take Away From Her Special Day.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“A correct idiot.”

Pablo turned out to be exactly what Damian predicted. This distinguished guy in his mid-70s wearing a perfectly pressed Guayabera and driving a Mercedes S-Class. He had that thing rich people have, where everything looks expensive without trying too hard. Quality shoes, simple watch, a haircut that definitely didn’t come from Supercuts.

He shook my hand with a grip that meant business, then turned to Damian and did the same. “You must be the famous Damian. Rosa talks about you constantly.”

“Oh, she does?” Damian looked genuinely surprised.

“Oh, yes. Says you’re an idiot, but that you make her laugh.”

Abuela appeared in the doorway, arms crossed, trying not to smile.

“I said you’re good for Mateo, even if you dress like you get your clothes from a dumpster.”

Damian looked down at his perfectly normal t-shirt and jeans. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

“Everything. You look like you rolled out of bed.”

“I did roll out of bed. It’s Saturday morning.”

“Exactly my point.”

Pablo laughed and put his arm around Abuela. “Come inside, boys. Let’s talk.”

Your Abuela tells me you’re headed to Rice, he said.

“If I can afford it. Got accepted, but the financial aid package isn’t enough.”

“What if money wasn’t an issue?” he asked.

I looked at Abuela Rosa. She was smiling.

Pablo laid it out simple. He’d made his money in commercial real estate across South Texas. He’d pay for Rice, all of it. Books, housing, everything. The only condition was that I had to promise to remember where I came from and who believed in me when it mattered.

And one more thing, Abuela said, “At graduation, you tell the truth about all of it.”

Damian waited in the car. When I got back in, he took one look at my face and said, “Well, I’m going to Rice full ride.”

“Your grandma’s boyfriend is paying?”

“Yeah, your grandma is cooler than both of us combined.”

Graduation day arrived, hot and brutal, 95° by 9:00 a.m. The stadium filled up with families, and I stood backstage, watching Abuela Rosa sit front and center in a purple dress that was way too fancy next to Pablo, who looked like he was attending a state dinner. Damian had snuck into the section near the front, wearing sunglasses inside.

The principal droned through opening remarks. The choir sang. The class president gave a speech about journeys that didn’t mean anything.

Then they called my name.

I walked to that podium and looked out at 2,000 faces. Somewhere in Bourne, my family was popping a confetti cannon to find out if Valentina was having a boy or a girl. I set my prepared speech aside. I wrote something, but I’m going to talk about something else instead.Continue reading…