TWO 

 

“And where the heck are we going to get the money to buy you the kind of clothes you need for something like this?” Mom asked, glaring at me.

“Why are you yelling at me?” I screamed at her. “I thought you’d be happy. I’ll make a crapload of money. Isn’t that all you care about?”

“Don’t you give that mouth to me,” she said, getting closer like she was thinking about hitting me.

She hadn’t hit me since I got spanked last when I was ten and we had a huge fight. But I could tell she still itched to.

“All I think about is keeping this family together and from going under. But if you don’t like it, you are welcome to leave,” she huffed. Which is what she always said.

She lit a cigarette. I waited for the nicotine to calm her down. Seemed like a bad time to bring up how expensive smoking is. Not that I’d ever had great timing with my mom, starting with my birth when she was eighteen.

“This will help me get into college, get a scholarship. Remember? How I gotta do everything different than you, starting with going to college?” I said, sweetly.

She sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes. “Stop being smart and be useful. I know you want to do it, Destiny, but how’s this gonna work, for real? What am I going to do with Darius if you’re working all the time?”

We both looked at my little brother eating Froot Loops and watching cartoons. He didn’t seem like he was listening, but I knew he was.

I felt sad and angry. Why were all her problems always my problems too? I bet Harmon Holt didn’t make his kids figure everything out for him. But his life had nothing to do with mine. Until today.

I shrugged. She sighed. Darius stared at the TV.

“Maybe we can do our hours so it’ll work … He’s nine—can’t he be on his own part of the day? I can’t know until I start what times I need to be there,” I said.

Mom sighed again. “I’ll talk to Denise and see if she got some clothes you can borrow for a while, till you get paid.”

The thought of my Auntie Denise and going through her closet made me feel a little better. Maybe she’d even take me with her to have my hair done once she heard I did something good by getting this internship. Like my mom liked to say, Denise had the money to spend if she ever felt like sharing it.

I didn’t know why I was fighting for this job—so far it had brought me nothing but grief, and I hadn’t even asked for it.