Sienna's POV
Sienna tugged at her oversized sweater as she strolled down the hallway, the hem swishing against the top of her equally oversized boyfriend jeans. Her sneakers squeaked faintly on the waxed linoleum, and her curly bun was loosely piled on top of her head like she gave up halfway through styling it—which, to be fair, she had. Friday fashion wasn’t for looks. It was for survival.
Just as she rounded the corner toward the smell of warm food and corporate exhaustion, a voice called out.
“Hey girl, you better get on this box lunch!”
Sienna smirked. “That’s what I came for.”
Kira was leaning against the wall, already holding an apple juice like it was a winning lottery ticket. “Good job on the mayor, by the way.”
“Thank you,” Sienna said casually, tugging her sweater sleeves
