I thought I had misheard him.
“What?”
“My mom says you owe us.”
He pointed at the groceries.
“She said take whatever you bought.”
I looked at him.
“No.”
His expression changed.
“She said you would give them to me.”
“I don't care what she said.”
He stepped in front of the trunk.
“You're making this harder than it needs to be.”
I almost smiled.
“You're sixteen.”
“So?”
“So you should be somewhere doing sixteen-year-old things.”
“I'm handling adult business.”
“No,” I said.
“You're standing in my driveway demanding my groceries.”
His face tightened.
“You owe my family.”
“For what?”
He didn't answer.
“What's the debt?”
He shrugged.
“HOA fines.”
I laughed once.
“You think my groceries are payment for HOA fines?”
“She says you've been refusing to pay.”
“I've disputed them.”
“She says you owe.”
“That isn't how debt collection works.”
He looked at me.
“You gonna call the cops?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because you're a kid.”
That seemed to irritate him more than anything.
“I'm not a kid.”
“Then stop acting like one.”
He stepped closer.
I didn't move.
“Give me the bags.”
“No.”
He stared at me.
Then he smiled.
“Fine.”
He walked away.
I picked up my groceries.
Four minutes later, Bettina appeared.
And she was furious.
“Do You Know Who I Am?”
Bettina climbed the porch steps like she owned them.
“I told you my son was coming.”
“No, you didn't.”
“Yes, I did.”
“When?”
“This morning.”
“You sent an HOA email.”
“That was notice.”
“It wasn't permission for your son to take my property.”
She held up her phone.
“You owe $1,800 in fines.”
“No.”
“You have refused multiple notices.”
“I've disputed them.”
“That's irrelevant.”
“No.”
Her face reddened.
“You don't get to decide that.”
“Actually, I do get to decide whether someone takes my groceries.”
She stepped closer.
“I'm calling the police.”
“Okay.”
“You think this is funny?”
“No.”
“You're going to regret humiliating me.”
“I haven't humiliated you.”
“You will.”
She dialed.
I watched her.
She gave the dispatcher my address.