Shana
A few days into my school week, I stand in a line while arguing with the lady serving the food in the cafeteria. “But the price used to be fifty Swedish crowns, not sixty-five!”
“What can I say? Times are tough,” her voice is flat and emotionless, and she is wearing red lipstick and has painted her eyebrows like two black lines on her face. I think she is from Finland, judging by her accent. “Now, pay up!”
Really? She won’t give me a discount? They are the ones who changed the prices without warning! Also, most schools have free food in Sweden, but this private one doesn’t, which is freaking weird! I look at the lady again, but there is no kindness in her eyes. My chest falls, and humiliation stings my cheeks. I don’t even have enough money to afford to eat at the cheapest place i
