Maggie
The first thing I do after school is update my résumé.
The second thing I do is stare at it for fifteen straight minutes.
It looks…
Pathetic.
My name sits proudly at the top.
Underneath it is a collection of jobs that all sound slightly made up.
Birthday entertainer.
Face painter.
Babysitter.
Pizza delivery.
Club bartender.
The last one probably shouldn’t stay there.
I sigh and delete it.
Then I sigh again because it happens to be my longest job.
“Why are you making that face?”
Ana flops onto the bed beside me, peering over my shoulder.
“You look like you’re writing your own obituary.”
“I’m looking for another job.”
She squints at the screen.
“You’ve had… a lot of jobs.”
“I’ve had a lot of bills.”
She bumps my shoulder.
“You know, normal teenagers spend their
