Jo
MRS JUNE IS staring at me as if I've won a lottery. She quickly ushers me into her office and the first thing that hits me is the spicy smell of spaghetti and meatballs.
"Come in, come in," she waves her hand towards me and shuts the door. "Was just having a quick lunch." She explains as she closes the lid of her food and drops it on the floor.
I settle down on the cushioned chair in front of her desk and she walks towards the windows and flips the binds open, talking as she does so. "I found out you accepted the school's offer this morning. You don't know how happy I am."
I read the words on the plaque the sits on her hardwood desk- Guidance Counselor- and observe the chipped edges of her table. Directly underneath the edge is a stale gum decorating the wood. She shuffles over to me and takes a seat on her swivel chair, rotating slightly before remaining still and wiping her brows with a brown napkin.
"Not everyone wants to help others. There's not been a very impressive response from the student body-"
"I accepted the offer by accident."
She pauses and raises her brows like I've said gibberish. "What?"
I lean forward and place my hands on her table, interlacing my fingers together. "I can't tutor anyone. I'm trying to see if there's a way I can cancel."
"Oh dear," a languid expression takes over her ruddy face and she wipes her brows again with the handkerchief from before. "I- well, I can't force you, but maybe you could think about it. You never know what you might gain from it."
A small frown replaces the expressionless look on my face. I try to think about it, but the only thing running through my mind is money.
"What's in it for me?"
Mrs June rolls her lips and asks, "what?" like she didn't hear me at first.
"I mean, do I get paid?"
She twiddles her thumbs on the table and sighs before relaxing back on her seat, rotating from side to side. "Yes, I guess you can get paid. Once you create your profile, you can easily place a certain price to any subject you're willing to teach. The slot wasn't available before but now that I think about it, I don't see why not."
I look down at my fingernails and think about my job a Grub A Bite and hesitate to give her a response. She notices, and waves her arm around while the other reaches for the discarded food on the floor.
"It's alright. You don't have to answer now or even do it. Whatever you go with is fine. Completely."
"Thank you." I tell her because I mean it. I get to my feet and she waves me goodbye just as another student walks in.
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IT'S A FAIRLY busy day at work. I glide purposefully towards a booth, order in both hands and serve them with my best fake smile yet. A band is up ahead, setting up the stage and fidgeting with the microphone just as I skate back to the counter.
I smoothen my brows a bit and wipe at the sweat gathering at the back of my neck. Garner's making me work extra hours today because of what happened yesterday and even though it was completely out of my control, I can't help but blame myself for it. I should be thanking him for employing me in the first place I guess. Not everyone employs diabetic teens to work as waiters.
Ann rests her face against her palm, elbow sitting erect on the counter and lazily scans the customers in the diner. She's loudly chewing a gum-regardless that it's been in her mouth for hours- and pops it here and there. This time, the white elastic bubble bursts against her mouth and decorates her lips and her chin. Theo is nowhere to be found but I'm absolutely sure he's drinking on the job as usual.
I sigh and pick at the worn out red nail polish from my fingernails and move my head here and there once the bands starts to play. It's The Beatles I realize after the first lyric is sung, but I wince slightly when the mic screeches and the chorus falls flat.
"Amateurs." A customer from a far booth at the end boos and a couple of people laugh as the woman forces a handful fries into her mouth.
I look back to the stage and witness the lead's face flush with embarrassment. It's almost pitiful.
Two consecutive taps on my shoulder cause me to turn my head back to see one of the kitchen staff. Grace, I think, smiles a bit although it comes out as a grimace and the stress lines on her forehead deepen.
"Garner." Is all she simply says and I nod and retie my already loose bun before quickly brushing the stray curls away.
"Wonder whatchu done this time," Ann chuckles without looking at me and pops another white bubble.
I head over to my boss's office in no time and find him leaning over the table while searching through some papers. His office is thoroughly disorganized, papers strewn all over the table and a plate of steaming macaroni sitting idly at a corner of the window.
He doesn't look at me. "Take a seat."
I do as he says and fold my fingers together. To say I'm nervous is an understatement but I tell myself I haven't done anything wrong so I try to relax a bit. Breathe properly through my nose.
Garner pulls at the sweaty collar of his shirt and takes a seat. He's a plump man with a double chin that look like twins-atleast that's how Theo describes them- and a resistant pimple on his lower chin. He scratches his receding hairline and sighs before raising his eyes to look at me.
"You're fired."
The thing with Garner is, he never beats around the bush. Never makes jokes. Never. He's always straight to the point.
But today, sitting in front of him and listening to those two words have my ears ringing and imagining him to be joking about it.
"What?"
"You're fired," he repeats. Then he sighs. "Listen, I can't have you dying on my customers, okay? I need someone who's always ready to deliver. I can't have you leaving to check your blood pressure everytime."
Blood sugar. I don't say anything even though I want to. I want to tell him that he's exaggerating and that I clearly made him aware of my situation before giving me this job. I pinch the bridge of my nose and stare at the lone pimple on his chin.
"The rest of my pay?"
He slides a brown envelope towards me. "It's all I have." And then he looks away, dismissing me without speaking.
All I have.
I grab the envelope and get to my feet because it's pointless to start an argument with him. Then I peel the green shirt away from my body, take off the stupid skates and discard them on his desk before turning around and leaving. I don't wait to see his reaction.
I also don't turn back to tell Ann or the others goodbye. I've never really fit in here anyway. I sling my bag over my shoulder and head for the back door.
Everything's going to be okay.
It's when I step out of the building that I discover how dark it already is. Right next to the trashcan, Theo is perched on the ground guzzling alcohol from his small water bottle. He doesn't notice me at first and goes on with drinking, sighing and whistling to the song that is echoing from the diner. He's wearing a dark red and very old Lakeville University sweater that has its threads flaying about from the edges, the fabric stretched beyond repair. He reminds me of older brother, Drew.
"Whoa," he slurs once he sees me. "I always thought I'd be asked to leave before you." He waves at me with two of his fingers and mumbles, "Ciao," and then looks away, whistling incoherently. He gets to his feet, pats the back of his trousers for any signs of dirt and stumbles inside, slamming the metal door shut.
The horrible clank makes me blink. That's when I realize the gravity of my situation. Standing here with the cold wind raising bristles on my arms and neck, it's very clear and glaring that I've lost my job. I walk away for some seconds then stop, and look up, blinking furiously. Trying not to cry. I can't cry.
The clouds are furiously black and condensed. I slide my phone out of my pocket and frown when it alerts me that it's on its last legs. A drop of water on the screen makes me look up, relieved that it's not tears and see that it's already drizzling. I realize I have a message from mum from about four hours ago and I tap on the message icon.
Pick out some pretzels for grandma on your way from work, will you? she won't shut up about it and you know how she gets when she's agitated. x
My phone goes off after that. I walk farther away from the restaurant until the music the band plays begins to fade into nothing. The rain starts to hit the ground slowly and then after a growl of thunder, it pours. I take off my bag and swiftly put on my raincoat, thankful mum put it in my bag this morning and head towards the nearest store.
I hurry towards the store, feet heavily pounding on the wet pavement and slap my hands on the door just as the saleswoman is turning the open sign to closed.
"We're closed," she spits but I scan the area for any other stores and realize that most of them are all closed as well.
"Please," I mumble, hoping she reads my lips and then after two moments of hesitation, she sighs and forces the glass door open, looking up at me.
"What do you want?"
Thunder rumbles behind me and with the way she's staring at my wet raincoat and shoes, I doubt she'll let me in. So I just calmly say, "Pretzels. Sea salted."
She walks away without a response and disappears behind a door. I hang around the glass door and listen to the incessant patter of the rain and then my ears pick up the sounds of her feet heading towards me and I turn to her.
"That'd be fifteen."
I glance at her for a second. It's pricier than usual, but then she shoots me a glare that almost makes me shrink, not caring that I'm almost a foot taller than her. I hand her the cash and take the snack away from her hands, before stepping out of the doorway.
When I turn around and look at the packet of baked pretzels in my hands, I frown when I see that it's not that flavor I asked. Instead, a bold red roasted chilli packet looks up at me. I whirl around immediately, knowing grandma will eat nothing but the sea salted flavor and I really don't want my efforts to be wasted.
I've not even stepped a foot back to the store, when she aggressively mouths, "No refunds." And then locks the door shut, disappearing behind the dark curtain.
"Crap," I mutter and toss the pretzels into the pocket of my coat. It's late which means the bus I usually take home has long gone. I walk towards the phone booth, desperate to get out of the chilling rain and wait for the next bus to arrive. To my luck, it's warm inside the booth and I rest my head against the glass wall. Today hasn't been my day at all.
I watch the roads becoming wetter with each downpour and how empty the streets are, save for the stray dog running around for shelter and me off-course, pathetically trying to catch my breath in the cubicle. I glance at the phone perched up against the wall and without overthinking my decision, I deposit some coins into the slot on the telephone and dial a number.
He's not going to pick up. But I call him anyway.
I place the phone to my ear and wait, listening to the persistent ring from the other end. Almost at the last second, the ringing stops and a cracking sound informs me that someone has picked up. I straighten my back and tuck my lips inward, my heart in my throat. I should be happy. I really should, but I'm so used to Drew never answering or returning my calls that him suddenly answering makes me worry albeit coupled with a jolt of excitement.
"Hello?" I start carefully but frown when I hear a slur. A feminine slur.
"Hello? Is- a burp- is someone on the line?"
I press my teeth on my bottom lip. "I'm calling for Drew."
"Oh- a pause- hold on, who'd you say you are?" The girl slurs again, her words jumbled into each other and by the pounding music coming from the background, I'm under the impression that she's drunk out of her mind at a party or something. I'm just not sure why she's with my brother's phone. But then again, he pretty much has a new girlfriend every minute of his life so she's probably one of them.
"I'm his sister," I grit out, unable to hide my annoyance.
There's a couple of giggling and whisperings and then, "What the- Drew has a sister?"
Then just like that, I hear Drew's very annoyed voice in the background saying, "Dev, why the fuck are you with my phone?"
"Your sister's on the line-" The line goes dead.
The phone remains close to my ear for the next few seconds and I sigh before dropping it back. I'm not surprised but the lack of surprise doesn't lessen the hurt. Fortunately, my bus sidles to a stop next to the sidewalk and I emerge out of the booth and walk right in.
Once I get to my house, I'm a bit surprised to see grandma hovering over the banister of the slightly illuminated porch with the glaring light of a lantern in her hands, moving back and forth over the street ahead. It's way past her bedtime but then again, she was probably waiting for me to come home with the pretzels. Too bad it's not the type she likes. Once the light lands on me, King barks next to her and jumps around a bit and then the light flickers off.
Over the rain, I hear her say, "Oh dear, I thought you were going to sleep at work."
I roll my eyes a bit and climb up the stairs to the porch just as King attacks me with his warm fur. "Missed you too." I tell him and look up at grandma who's holding a rolled up newspaper in the other hand.
"I had a long day," I say, taking off my raincoat and spreading it on the railing as she places the lantern back on the table and pushes the net door aside with a whiny creak before opening the front door, warm light pouring into the porch from the living room.
"Well, come on," she waves me over. "I don't want you to get cold."
I follow suit behind her, King doing the same and then she flips the door shut. The TV loudly displays a toothpaste commercial as I head straight for the kitchen and drop my bag on the table.
"Mum's not home yet?"
"She said she'd be working the night today," Grandma replies as she sits down on her rocking chair and swings back and forth.
"Oh," I mumble, mouthful with a fresh, cold green apple from the fridge.
"How was work?" she asks and I chew a little bit harder on the fruit, thinking of the best way to answer her question.
King runs to me with a cloth in his mouth and drops it at my feet, momentarily distracting me and I'm more than grateful as I lean towards him before picking it up from my feet.
"Oh, what's this?" I ask him as I stretch the cloth from it's jumbled state and walk into the living room. It's a small, beautifully knitted onesie with blue and white stripes and a button at the neckline.
"Ah, I did that," she says as she flicks the channel to a reality show. "Got bored, hands got busy," she continues, showing me her slightly wrinkled hands while I sit down on the chair. "Your mum won't let me do anything around the house. Decided to give the dog a gift."
"This is so cute," I tell her, and King barks and snatches his new piece of cloth from my hands before trotting away. A short laughter escapes my mouth as grandma glances at me.
"So, did you, by any chance at all, get any pretzels?" she questions, looking at the TV while trying to look nonchalant and all of that.
I almost smile but there's nothing I can do, even though I hate to disappoint her. "Roasted chilli?" I sort of ask instead of telling, revealing the packet from my bag and watch her face morph into instant disappointment.
The last thing I want her to get is agitated. It's not really a pretty sight considering her deteriorating mental health. "Trust me, I looked everywhere for your favorite and I didn't get one," I lie. "And besides, it was raining- still is- and most of the shops were closed. This could be nice and you wouldn't even know."
She pushes her small glasses further up her nose. "How would you know that?"
I lean forward and place my hands on my thighs before comically pointing at myself. "Well, I've tasted this before and I can assure you it's a hundred times better than the sea salted flavor."
She gasps, dramatically holding her heart with her hands and despite all of this, her slightly pale face still holds a mixture of curiosity and disbelief. "How dare you?"
I laugh and get closer to her while running a hand through her hair, a mixture of grey and white curls. Then I pull her cheeks apart and say, "You'll never know unless you try. I'm going to bed." Then I drop the snack on her lap and quickly look for an escape route without waiting for her response, which is in this case, my room.
I've never had the roasted chilli flavor before but it'd better be good.
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I TUCK MY legs under my thighs and perch my newly fixed laptop on it, running my hand over my face for the thousandth time. I can do this, I tell myself because I'm sure I should be able to.
I've weighed the pros and cons and sure, I may not have the patience to endure some things but I'll learn to. It's just tutoring anyway. I've lost my job and if there's anything I need to get the hell out of this town, it's money.
I take another sip of water, the last sip, and rub my palms together before pressing here.
A new page pops up, displaying what looks like some sort of form. Above, it says, "Create Your Profile." and directly under it, is a picture of opened books and two intertwined brains. I scroll down to tap on the first option.
Profile picture. Wow. I scour through my photos, in search of any presentable picture. Anyone that makes me look less like a strangled cat with bulging eyes and more of a human. I bite the corner of my lip when I see one. It's a picture of me at a booth in the restaurant, my hand half raised with a spoon of ice cream and a rare wide smile on my lips, my hair half tied at the middle and the rest tumbling down my shoulders. I smile a bit, the memory as clear as day. About three years ago or so, when my brother and I still used to be exceptionally close. I've not changed much facially except for the occasional acne here and there-and maybe a little fat-on my present face, so I pick the picture the way it is.
Name
My fingers work on the keyboard, 'Josephine Pryce.' then I hesitate and start to wonder if there's a need to fill in my middle name as well but I discard the thought and move on to the next question.
Let us know who you are
Who is Josephine Pryce? I ask myself and then without thinking too deeply about it, I write down a few likes and hobbies.
Hi! I'm a senior at Lakeville High School and I'm a big fan of the Beatles, Space, The Bachelor-
What the hell? I backspace immediately and breathe slowly before starting again.
Hi! I'm a senior at Lakeville High School and the captain of the debate club. I enjoy music, reading novels and playing any type of sport.
The last one is a complete lie, but I put it there anyway. Figure, it might make me seem more impressive than I really am.
Select the subjects you feel comfortable teaching
'English Literature. Biology.'
Select your Schedule
'1 hour. 1 hour, 30 minutes tops.' Then next to it, I add '$10/ 30 minutes. Available for requests.'
And then I hit complete.
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