“Yeah, maybe.” I release a relieved rush of air. Good. I’ve got one more year. But I snap out of it. If I actually get down to business, I’ll have a decent job and I’ll be able to buy my own shoes. “I need to switch course tracks.”
Mrs. Collins leans back in her seat and it slightly reclines with her. “Why?”
“Because I have a job waiting for me after graduation if I join the co-op track now.” This would mean finishing out my requirements for graduation in the mornings and filling my electives by working a job in the afternoons.
“I saw that,” she says, unimpressed.
“I’ll be a receptionist at Dave’s Automall.”
Nothing from her.
“It’s a decent job.”
Still nothing.
“Lots of people would be happy to have it.”
“Yes, I agree with that. There are plenty of people who would be happy to have the job and would actually love it,” the lady finally speaks. “But will you be happy working there?”
Now she’s lost me. “What’s happy got to do with it? I won’t be on welfare. Isn’t that your job description? Graduate people so they stay off the government dime?”
I catch the slight tilt of her lips before she hides it. “No, that’s not my job. I’m honestly concerned with your well-being.”
“Sure you are. So are you going to change my track or am I going to have to miss more class because I have to reschedule with Mrs. Branch?”
Mrs. Collins straightens and laces her fingers together on top of her desk. “You have admirable ACT scores.”
“It was a fluke. Like winning the lottery.”
“Three times?”
“Lightning does strike the same place more than once. When I was five, the apartment above mine caught fire twice. Seriously sucked. I had to spend the night at the shelter both times.”
She totally ignores me. “You’ve made the honor roll all three years you’ve been here.”
“I cheat.”
“I highly doubt that.”
I throw my arms out to either side. “What does it matter?”
“Stella, you’re college material. You elected the college prep track when you enrolled here and you’ve stuck with it. Surely the thought of going to college has crossed your mind a few times.”
More than a few, but Joss is right. There’s no such thing as more, and Joss is giving me the best possible opportunity for a future. “I can’t afford it.”
“There are scholarships—”
“But I won’t win,” I cut her off. “And you’re assuming some school will admit me. Look, I’ve been working odd jobs since I was fourteen and before you give me that work-experience-will-look-great-on-a-scholarship-application bull, I’ve worked mostly under the table. Because of that, I haven’t joined one school club or one athletic team or even attended a stinking game. This is the end of the line for me and I’ve got a great shot at a decent job. Don’t screw this up for me because you have a quota to meet.”
“Give the classes you have a month and see if you change your mind.”
I stand so quickly that a few papers fall from her desk. “Are you for real?”
“Listen.” She holds up her palms as if she’s pleading with me for something important, like food. “It’ll take me some time to confirm this job. They’re not on our approved company list to begin with. Let me work on this and while I do, you mull over why you’re making this decision. Don’t abandon going to college without at least trying to see if you can make it work.”
This lady is everything Joss has warned me about. What happens when I hope for more, possibly get into a school, and then figure out there’s no way I can pay for it unless I become an overpriced whore?
“Know what, if it’ll keep you off my back, you do what you need to do and I’ll do what I need to