"Okay, okay," and she did put it down.

  "You can't keep it.  My mom got it for me." 

  "Unlike my rented shoes," the woman looked down at her barefeet. 

  "Who let the thugs in?" 

  "They want the rental furniture." 

  "How's your day?" 

  "Seriously?" 

  "Put all that on that table," a woman ordered.  

  "Well, here we are.  When I said (i)meet my mother(i) this is not what (i)I(i) had in mind." 

  "Go!" 

  "Where?" 

  "To your old room.  Get yourself UN-half neked." 

  "Look, I think I know what happened." 

  "Your father is (i)angry with you(i).  I'd put on non-trashy clothing." 

  "Professional, not trashy." 

  "Same thing where you been (i)supposedly(i) working." 

  The girl came back in a sweatshirt, her father's team. 

  "What do (i)you think(i) happened?" 

  "Well, it got a lil out of control.  Not sharing outfits, but renting outfits out to get lunch money." 

  "Who's going to pay the bill?" 

  "Not sure." 

  "What else?" 

  Quiet.  The mom putting grapefruits into a cupboard.  She turned and rocked the grapefruit in her hand, not exactly pointing at the girl.  "I know you always have more than one thing going on in that head of yours." 

  The girl got on the floor and said loudly to under the couch, "They're still here." She pulled out an alligator slipper.  "Of course they are," the mom said. 

  "Can I have a grapefruit?" 

  "The cost went up again." 

  The girl turned out sweatpant pockets.  "I'll buy us one.  How much m'am?" 

  "Cost me almost two, so two and twenty-five." 

  "Don't you even have a quarter?" 

  A vigorous headshake (i)no(i).  Heavy ponytail. 

  "Sugar?" 

  "Just a little." 

  "Pretty much a lot can't be said.  Revealing sources and all." 

  "Yeah." 

  "Wow. Real grapefruit spoons.  My mom has these too." 

  "We didn't steal yours." 

  "Awkward." 

  Cups for the juice. 

  "Better?" 

  A sigh.  "I remembered something else on the way here." 

  "Do tell." 

  "I think I may have used the wrong word with someone." 

  "Someone like who?" 

  "Ashtray." 

  "He's pretty cool when he's not quarterbacking." 

  Quiet.  "Clean up the table when you're finished." The mom turned out the light as she was leaving the room. 

  "What word?" 

  "(i)Compromised(i)." 

  "How did you mean it?" 

  "Okay, so, you know how (i)they(i) make a kill circle?" 

  "Like around a sub?" 

  "Yeah.  Or around the guy to protect." 

  "Yeah." 

  "I was trying, in a rush, to explain that most of my friends are feeling compromised.  'Cuz, it, it's like, protecting that guy," a point at a guy on a book jacket, "yeah?" 

  "Well it seems like it goes against everything (i)my people(i) have been hoping for." 

  "Okay, I get that.  But this is the Hill.  First of all we have no (i)friends(i).  And secondly, like we are compassed about by enemies who only know the English, (i)Death to America(i)." 

  "Is that a talking point? I heard it on the radio too." 

  "Are all, uh, colors of people your people?" 

  "Oh my God.  You gotta move your car, my Dad's back.  That's not good."