14
James
The last person I expected to see at the community center was Trinity. A glance at my mother told me she knew Trinity and I knew each other, but she didn’t want to tell me. I was going to have to talk to her later. First, I needed to know what Trinity was doing there.
“Why are you here?” I demanded.
Her gaze slid over my crossed arms and down to my wide-set stance before returning to my face. She didn’t look any happier than I felt. “I’m working.”
“You work here?” I blurted out. If she was having money problems, the community center was the last place she should take a job. My mom started working there when my brother and I were in elementary school so we could attend for free. She also worked as a waitress at night and at a gas station when we were in school. None of them we
