“Are yew fuckin’ kiddin’ me?” Heather shouted, rounding on her boyfriend in a flash of blonde ponytail, her face contorted in an unpretty scowl that spoke volumes that her voice didn’t edge into just yet. “Jesus, Ellis,” she said breathlessly, entering the kitchen with one hand raised in angry gesturing, “We’re in ROTC together! We’re planning uh fundraiser!”
“Yew need his phonenumber with uh lil’ heart awn th’note fer that, do yuh?” snarled the brunette, gripping the top of a kitchen chair as he regarded his on-again girl with a sneer of his own. His hat was jacked backwards, ruffling the long curls of his hair, swirling beneath his ears in a messy curtain. “Thah’s uh load uh SHIT!”
“Yew don’t own me, Ellis,” the baseball player continued as though she hadn’t heard him, pacing across the tile floor with the loose drape of her plaid shirt sliding over the tight grip of her jeans, “Yew don’t have any right tuh go through mah stuff!”
“He signed his name with uh heart!” Ellis bellowed, slamming a fist down on the table with such force that the basket of vegetables thumped in its center. “Two weeks we been back tuhgether an’ yer already lookin’ tuh replace me!”
“HARRY’S GAY, YEW MORON!” Heather shrieked, yanking up one of the dark-fleshed zucchini from the top of the basket and flinging it at her boyfriend in outrage. “He signs everythang with uh goddamn heart!”
A few moments passed in panted silence.
“Yuh shudduh told me,” muttered Ellis hoarsely, breathless as guilt crept across his face in a blush, the teenager rubbing his battered fist self-consciously as anger ebbed into bashfulness.
“If Ah told yew, yew’d tell Keith fer shits an’ giggles,” Heather said in soft-voiced exhaustion, dropping into a chair to massage her temples with trembling fingers. “An’ he’d tell every motherfucker he knows… an’ if it wus common knowledge, it cud hurt his chances uh gittin’ intuh th’military, war ‘er not.”
Ellis nodded slowly, taking a seat across from her as he placed the flung zucchini back onto the stack of freshly picked vegetables. “Hope he don’t sign th’forms with uh lil’ heart,” he added solemnly, “Cus that’d be uh dead give away tuh anybody but uh jealous boyfriend.”
Heather began to laugh, leaning forward to let her face rest on the surface of the table as she collapsed into giggles and pawed for his unhurt hand. They laced fingers across the table and laughed until the tension was gone.