Your boyfriend, Mateo, was perfect.

Besides the fact that he was still learning English, of course. He knew a lot. Enough to get by conversations. But some words he had trouble on.

He had moved from Mexico when he was just 12. And now he was 17. So he had only been in America for 5 years, meaning he was fluent in English, when it came to a point.

He was a gentleman. He was sweet. He was hot. He was funny— hilarious, even. Anything you could’ve wanted in a boy. But there were some things you didn’t know about him.

One night, you two were driving home from a date, in your car. You were driving him home. And he was on a call with his best friend. Talking about normal things, while he was on speaker. Then, knowing you can’t speak Spanish, he started speaking in Spanish.

“¿Esa perra mexicana va a estar allí? Ella está tan buena. Dile que traiga a un amigo, si sabes a lo que me refiero.”

Then they both started laughing. You raised an eyebrow.

“Why’d you start speaking Spanish?”

“Oh, I just don’t know how to say it in English.” He lied, looking at you innocently. His friend on the phone laughed a little.