A Graveyard of Stars

Chapter Six

This is dedicated to alextvrner. Thanks so much for the banner! It's ridiculously cute and lovely.

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"What are you doing up so early?" My Mom asks, walking into the kitchen fully clothed for work.

"Frosted Mini Wheat's or Frosted Cheerios? That's the real question," I proclaim, holding the two boxes in front of my face.

"Coffee." She sits at the kitchen table after pouring her cup and sips it. Fatigue washes over the both of us. "You didn't answer my question."

"Couldn't sleep last night. Couldn't sleep in this morning. Now I can't choose my breakfast. It's easy to see how this day is going to go."

"Have you been looking for a job?" Mom asks while lifting the newspaper to her face.

"Kind of." No. She's been asking me for a few weeks to look for one. I have a little but anything I find seems boring or I forget to go to the interview. I glare hard at the boxes of cereal in my hands and try to choose.

"There's a couple in here. Come look."

"I'll just take both!"

"Both jobs?" She looks at me.

"No, both cereals." I pour the Frosted Mini Wheat's into my bowl followed by the Frosted Cheerios. Grabbing a spoon I say, "Frosted Mini Cheerios," and smile. I walk into the living room with my cereal, plop down on the couch and turn on the TV.

"I'm going to work," Mom says as she follows. I nod and she swats at my feet that are propped up on the coffee table. I move them. "Will you please look through this today? I think there might be a job in here you could handle."

"Wow. That was almost a compliment." I chuckle and she hits me with solemn look. "Okay, okay." I snatch the newspaper out of her hands. "I'll look."

She almost smiles. "Thank you," she says and anything that resembles a smile vanishes as she slowly sits next me to. "I don't want to worry you, but things have been hard at work so we haven't been getting as much money coming in as we used to. That's why I'm pushing you so hard to get a job all of a sudden. We could use all the help we can get."

I try to ask questions but she blows them off and says she really hopes I start pitching in. I've never known us to be low on money before. My Mom's a hard worker. My Dad was a hard worker. We never needed loans and always had more than we needed. When she's gone, I find an article in the newspaper about help being needed as a waitress at the local Cup O Joe café.

Ripping out the address and phone number, I fold it up and shove it in my back pocket before dragging myself to school.

•••

You know that group of kids in school that don't really have a label? The kids that don't fit in with any of the cliques so they have to create a new one? In a way, these kids are kind of like entrepreneurs. First, they have to branch off from the other businesses. Then they have to venture out and find others willing to branch off with them, while society watches they're every move. Once the business is going strong and proven to be sturdy enough, the other businesses don't pay much attention.

Instead of taking great risks on our finances, we take great risks on our reputations.

"I was wondering," Will starts after flinging his backpack to the ground and sitting next to me. I freeze mid bit of my green apple. Will plucks a tater tot off my tray and tosses it into his mouth. "How are social expectations created? And who gets to decide them?"

I reluctantly move the apple from my mouth and say, "It's a little early for an English pop quiz, don't you think?"

"It's noon. Look around Dani." He motions for me to glance at the cafeteria of students. "These are the civilians who decide if you're good enough. If you're smart enough. If you're pretty enough, sane enough. But why does everyone play along to that unwritten rule?"