Free Of Hustle and Heart by Briseis S. Lily Page A

man?”
    “I’m not going to let anyone disrespect me,” Whitney says.
    “And what about me?” my mother asks. “If I disrespect you, what will you do? I don’t like you either, Whitney. I don’t want you around my sons. You don’t have the right to barge into their house, interrupting my time with them.”
    My mother’s voice grows louder and more agitated with every word. She shifts her weight until she stands directly in front of Whitney. “When we ignore our calls, you stupid little girl, that usually means we don’t want to see you.”
    “Zack wants to see me, and he doesn’t appreciate you or John getting in our business,” Whitney says. She waves her hand through the air, and when she does, my mother snatches her by the hand and then shoves her. Whitney stumbles backward, but I catch her before she falls. My mother walks toward Whitney and reaches around me to grab her.
    “Ma! Stop!” I put my hand out to hold her back. “What the hell?”
    John and I are shocked at our mother’s aggression. He steps up and holds her around the waist, pulling her away slowly.
    I tell Whitney to go to my bedroom. She hesitates but not for long. Then I ask my mother to leave. I’m done with this.
    “I’m sorry, Zack, but I don’t trust her. I thought she was swinging at me,” my mother says.
    “She wouldn’t do that, c’mon! You did that for John.”
    I am disgusted. Fuck. When I woke up this morning, I prayed to God that today would be better. I didn’t want to see my mother or my girlfriend until I was ready to speak to them. They both intruded, and now I’m forced to choose between them.
    “Don’t be mad at me, man,” John says.
    “You know what? Shut the hell up, John. You started this. Mother, I need you to get out,” I say, pointing toward the door. “Now! And don’t be here when I come out.”

    I sit on the edge of my bed, cradling Whitney on my lap. She isn’t as upset as I thought she’d be. We don’t really talk about the fight much at all after we escape to my bedroom. Whitney apologizes for barging in on my family, and I tell her it’s okay. When she apologizes for accusing me of cheating on her with high-school girls, I remain silent. Part of me wishes she hadn’t brought it up.
    “Don’t be jealous of teenagers,” I say. “I don’t want them.”
    She sits on my lap, her hands resting on top of my head. When she leans over to kiss me, I feel the warmth in my chest.
    “I don’t want to talk anymore,” she says. “I’m tired of talking to people and about people.” She swings one leg over my lap and straddles me.
    I agree.
    We kiss, forgetting about our families, our jobs, maybe even each other. Alone in the fading daylight, we claw at each other as if we’re touching for the first time. She’d made me wait for weeks, because she does that when she’s not happy with me, so it’s surprising she’s so willing after all that’s transpired today. Through all the waiting and game playing, I can only assume she’s frustrated herself as well. Whitney maneuvers around on top of me, fully clothed, until she knows we’re both ready. I roll over her unto the bed. We kiss again, and I pick her up and lay her down on my disheveled bed.
    Afterward, my mouth dry and my heart rate slowly returning to normal, I lie next to my girlfriend and experience the calm I’ve been searching for all week. Whitney appears to be sleeping, but the smile on her face tells me otherwise.
    “I’m so thirsty,” I croak, sounding just pathetic enough to get what I want.
    Whitney’s pointed little nose brushes mine. “I’ll get it,” she whispers. Her breath teases my face, and I am caught in the warmth of it.
    “Get what?” I murmur against her chin.
    “Drinks,” she says. “Be right back.”
    She rolls away from me slowly and slips on the T-shirt I’d been wearing. I lie in bed, watching the bedroom door, waiting for her return. But then I notice Whitney’s shadow in the hallway outside