The Story of Us

Her House

She opens the door to her house and walks in. She gestures for me to follow but I feel frozen to the spot.

She cocks her head. "What's wrong?"

"I don't want your mom to beat me."

She laughs that wonderful laugh of hers. "I'll make sure she doesn't bother you."

"Okay..."

She kisses my cheek. "I promise. She won't lay a finger on you as long as I'm here."

We walk in and she calls to her mom in a mix of Spanish and Croatian. I couldn't understand a thing.

"Sawyer, c'mon." She gestures for me to move farther into the house, and I obey.

I drop my bag near the door, take off my shoes, and follow Faye inside.

Her mom says something in Spanish, and she responds with, "He's the guy I like, mamá."

"Ahhh," her mom says. "So you're the young man she has been talking to me about."

"Mamá!"

Her mom chuckles. "Anyways, I'm Antonia." She puts out her hand and I shake it.

"I'm Sawyer."

Antonia smirks. "I know."

"Mamá..." Faye warns. "Estas siendo malo."

"Well, um," I say nervously. "Are we gonna eat the pizza?"

"Oh yeah, forgot about that." Both of them start to putter around the kitchen, setting the table and stuff.

I hear a knock at the door.

"Sawyer, can you get that?" shouts Faye. "Just say we're busy."

"Yes ma'am."

I open the door to a guy who has a few inches on me and a scowl on his face. He grabs the front of my shirt in his fist.

"Who are you and why are you here?"