Taylor and I took the bus to the Grice's market when I got out of school the next day. That got me a lot of judgmental looks from some of the older riders, being a teen with a baby in all.

The market was in a small shopping plaza, wedged between a nail salon and a smoke shop. Inside they had everything from food to clothes to toys. I also noticed the help wanted sign that was still in the window.

"Hello!" A cheery voice said from the register.

I turned to find a woman with the same tanned skin as Farrah and Nick. That must be their mother. She didn't look like a bitch.

"Hi," I said, shifting Taylor on my hip.

She glanced over at help wanted sign, the thing I had been staring at since walking in. "You looking for work?"

Yes! Taylor squirmed in my arms pointing and saying "down", reminding me that after school she was my job.

"Oh, no. Just juice," I said the first thing that came to mind, knowing that the only money I had on me was bus fare.

"Aisle four," she said, looking a little disappointed.

I set Taylor down and we walked through the aisles. She touched everything we passed, pointing at stuff a babbling, mostly, nonsense.

"You know, if you were older then you could stay at an after school program. Then I could have a job I got paid for," I told her, but she was too busy trying to take a bag of chips off the shelf. "God, how do single mothers do this?"

When I turned down the juice aisle I almost ran into someone. The only reason I didn't was because the person reached out and stopped me before I did.

I looked up, meeting a familiar pair of light brown eyes. He seemed to be popping up everywhere. There had to be a term for it. Like when you learned a new word and suddenly you started seeing it everywhere. Whatever the phenomenon was called it was happening with Nolan Chambers.

Like me, and most people in this town, Nolan had lived in Bellcreek his entire life. I had vague memories of him back in elementary school. He was always there in my classes, walking around campus. But these past few weeks were the most I'd interacted with him or ever really noticed him.

He had a basket full of snacks; crackers, candy, juice. I expected him to be his usual self, to glare and walk away. Instead his eyes flitted from me to my sister and back to me. His brow raised. "Single mom?"

"No!" The answer came out fast, probably too fast for him to believe me. After the shock of his question wore off explained. "First, she's my sister. Second, last I checked we're not in woodshop, so why are you even talking to me?"

I tugged Taylor down a different aisle to get away from Nolan, the sting of what happened in shop was still there. Rejection hurt in any capacity.

The sound of glass breaking pulled me out of my thoughts. Taking a toddler down a candle aisle probably wasn't the smartest thing. The noise spooked Taylor and she started to cry. I scooped her up to comfort her.

Heat filled my cheeks when Nolan appeared at the end of the aisle, followed by Mrs. Grice.

"What happened?" I could tell she was trying to stay level headed by the way her voice was strained.

"I—It was an accident," I told her.

"You break it, you buy it!"

This was embarrassing. Taylor crying, Mrs. Grice scolding me. All while Nolan watched. Tears sprung to my own eyes as I tried to get Taylor to calm down.

"Well?" Mrs. Grice prompted, hand out. "That candle costs $2.99."

Three dollars? How could I not afford a three dollar candle?

"Uh, I—Can I pay you tomorrow?" I bargained.

She scoffed. "Right. Like I haven't heard that before."

"No, really! I'll bring you—"

"How about we call your mother up here," she threatened.

My mom didn't need to brought into this. She didn't need the added stress. The embarrassment. Taylor's cries seemed to get louder and the lump in my throat was making it difficult for me to speak.

"Here."

My eye shot up to Nolan. He stood there holding out a five dollar bill. Mrs. Grice hesitated before accepting the money.

"Keep the change," he said.

Mrs. Grice smoothed her hands over nonexistent wrinkles in her shirt, giving me a pointed look. "Well, I'm still going to have to ask you to leave the store."

I ducked my head, rushing past Mrs. Grice and Nolan, leaving the store. The tears started the moment I was outside. Taylor had finally stopped, but I couldn't hold my own tears back.

Being kicked out of a store, not having three dollars to my name, those kind of things didn't happen to me.

On the bus ride home all I could think about was my dad. This was his fault. This was what he left us with. I hated him for it.

* * *

One of the many things I loved about Bianca Sackler was that if I needed her she'd come running. No matter what. She proved that by showing up to my house barefoot and dripping wet in a bikini.

"Did I really sound that distressed on the phone?" I asked once we were in my room. I let her borrow a towel and some dry Christmas pajamas.

"Yes!" she exclaimed, wrapping a towel around her wet hair. "You sounded like you were ugly crying. What the hell happened?"

We sat on my bed, backs against the headboard with a bag of grapes between us.

"We're broke." The words were like nails on a chalkboard. Painful to my ears. But once I started I couldn't stop. "We were just barely able to make rent this month. There's hardly ever any food in the fridge. And college... that's out of the question unless I want to spend the rest of my life drowning in debt."

Bee was quiet for a moment, processing the information. "Shit."

I nodded. "And my dad is zero help. He's too busy living it up with his new girl."

"That—No offense but I hate him."

I smiled. "Ditto."

"How can he live knowing that his kids are starving and close to being homeless?" She squished a grape between her teeth. Knowing Bee she was probably imagining it as my dad's head. "Men are disgusting. I'm so sorry you're attracted to them."

"It's really terrible." I laughed.

"Why didn't you tell me before?" Her voice was soft, filled with concern. "I could've helped you. Especially with food. You know my mom still cooks like there's five of us even though all of my brothers moved out."

"I know. I just—It was embarrassing," I admitted, fingers the hem of my shirt. "But after what happened today I have a whole new standard for embarrassment."

"At least Nolan was there. It was cool what he did."

"He only did it out of pity." I hugged my knees to my chest, resting my chin on top of them. "Taylor was crying. I was crying." I buried my face in my knees. "It was so bad."

Bee wrapped her arm around my shoulders, pulling me into her. "Hey, shit happens. It's how you deal with it that's important." She let go of me, climbing out of the bed, determination on her face. "And I have an idea of how we can deal with it."

She walked over to my closet, sliding the door opened.

"What are you—"

She pulled out a canvas painted with blues, pinks, and oranges. A sunset over the ocean. I painted it forever ago, after a trip the beach one summer.

"You need money and you have a ton of it collecting dust in your closet."

I shook my head adamantly. "No one is gonna want to buy those." They were amateur, generic looking. Nothing special about them but the things they reminded me of.

"Why not?" She propped the painting up against the wall and sat next to me on the bed. "Jade, you are an amazing artist. There are people who will want your paintings. And are willing to pay handsomely for them." She said that last part with a dramatic flourish.

My gaze shifted to the paintings again. Even if it sold for only ten dollars it'd be ten more than we had. They were just collecting dust. Most of them were embedded with the memories of family vacations. My dad. It'd be better to get rid of them.

"Okay," I said, turning back to Bee. "Let's sale them."

//

Hi! Hello!

Jade has swallowed her pride and confided in her friend!

~yay for character growth~

Thank you for reading btw <3