Beneath The Surface

A Little Respect Please

Amari and I are halfway through our lunch, laughing over something silly she said, when the sharp sound of a man's voice cuts through the hum of the café. My head snaps toward the source, and my heart drops when I see it's coming from the table where Imani is sitting.

The guy she was talking to is now standing, his chair pushed back violently, and he's pointing a finger at her. I can't hear everything he's saying, but his tone is loud and aggressive, drawing attention from the other customers.

Imani, for her part, sits stiffly in her chair, her expression tense but unreadable. She doesn't say anything, just looks down at the table as if trying to shrink under his glare.

My stomach churns. Whatever's happening, it's not good.

"Sam," Amari whispers, nudging me. "Do you see that?"

"Yeah," I mutter, already pushing my chair back.

"Wait, what are you doing?"

"I'm not just going to sit here and watch this guy yell at her," I say, my voice firm.

Before Amari can stop me, I'm on my feet, marching toward their table. The other diners are whispering and glancing over, but no one seems brave enough to intervene.

"Hey!" I call out as I approach, my voice sharper than I expected.

The guy pauses, turning to look at me with a mixture of annoyance and surprise. He's tall and broad-shouldered, his face set in an angry scowl.

"Who are you?" he demands, his tone dripping with disdain.

"I'm her cousin," I say, planting my hands on my hips. "And you need to back off."

Imani looks up at me, her eyes wide. "Sam, it's fine-"

"No, it's not fine," I cut her off, glaring at the guy. "I don't know who you think you are, but you don't get to talk to her like that. Show some respect."

He sneers, his jaw tightening. "This is none of your business."

"It became my business the second you started yelling at my family," I snap, taking a step closer. "Now, either lower your voice or get out. Your choice."

For a moment, I think he's going to argue, but then he glances around and seems to notice the stares from the other customers. His face flushes with anger and maybe a little embarrassment.

"Whatever," he mutters, grabbing his coat off the back of the chair. He turns to Imani one last time. "We're not done talking about this."

"Yes, you are," I say firmly, stepping between them.

He glares at me but doesn't say another word as he storms out of the café.

As soon as he's gone, I turn to Imani, who's still sitting there, her shoulders tense and her hands clenched into fists.

"Are you okay?" I ask, my voice softening.

She exhales shakily, nodding. "Yeah. Thanks for stepping in."

"Of course," I say, pulling out a chair to sit beside her. "What was that about?"

Imani hesitates, glancing at the curious eyes around us. "Not here," she says quietly.

I nod, respecting her need for privacy. "Alright. But we're talking about this later, okay?"

She nods again, and I give her a reassuring smile before standing up.

Amari, who had been watching the whole thing from our table, comes over, her eyes wide. "That was... intense. You good, Imani?"

"Yeah," Imani says, managing a small smile. "Thanks, Amari."