Chapter 1
Trina
I don’t qualify for any of these.
The job listings I’m staring at have more requirements than I anticipated. I don’t know how to do any of these things, but I need something, badly and soon. If only it was based on your need for money – there’s no way they would reject me if they knew how desperate I am for help.
Because my life has been a whirlwind since my parents left us last year. What type of people leave a teenage girl in charge of her gravely ill younger brother? I’ll never be able to understand or forgive my parents for what they’ve done – the circumstances they’ve put me are beyond selfish.
My classmates are more concerned with prom and graduation, but I have bigger fish to fry. Anxiety boils in my stomach, making it ache, but then I hear my little brother coughing from the next room. Mickey’s cough has gotten worse with the change in the weather as his asthma flares up, and my heart twinges with a pang. If I don’t make enough money by next week, he’ll be out of medication and we won’t be able to afford another visit to the clinic. I can’t let that happen, not when I love Mickey more than life itself.
Plus, Grandma’s benefits only include one doctor visit per month, and we used that up in the first week. I must sound ungrateful, and I am appreciative of Grandma Nana, but her benefits can sometimes be a headache to claim because there’s so much paperwork to get through in order to get anything done. I often wished I didn’t have to go to the doctor at all. Of course, it isn’t up to me. Mickey has been sick his whole life. If it isn’t his asthma, then it’s a deficiency of something or other. A weak immune system keeps him perennially ill, it seems like. But no matter what happens, I will always be by his side, taking care of him until he’s strong enough to care for himself.
Grandma Nana is a big help as well because on days when Mickey’s too sick to go to school, she takes over so that I can continue with my studies. Nana has always been very strict about school, stressing the importance of an education for as long as I can remember. Thankfully, I only have a few months left before being able to work full-time and help with the bills around our apartment.
But unfortunately, Nana’s apartment in the Bronx has seen better days. When I was a child, every visit to her flat was met with dread and fear because the hallways smelled stale, and every night there was fighting in the courtyard – which is still true today. But it’s the best she can do, and I was just happy she accepted us when I showed up at her front door after being evicted from our family home in Long Island. My parents allowed our house to be foreclosed, simply choosing not to return home after work one evening. Somehow, I managed to cover the bills for a month, taking odd jobs around the community center and babysitting for a few neighbors while my panic slowly grew before reaching titanic proportions.
And when Mickey caught pneumonia, I finally broke down and got Nana, afraid the hospital would call Child Protective Services on us if we showed up with no adult. After learning of her only daughter’s desertion, my gran took us in without question.
Nana isn’t too old, but I still feel guilty for hijacking her quiet, peaceful life. Mickey and I can be a handful at times, and I know the two of us are a huge financial burden. Nevertheless, she makes it work every month, sacrificing some things she wanted in exchange for our needs. But again, Nana is a good woman. She never complains about how we’ve interrupted her peaceful existence, and always seems happy to have us with her.
But the thing is that I’m eighteen years old now, and it’s time to start contributing to the household expenses. That’s why I’m searching for jobs at this moment, scrolling through the classifieds section from a local newspaper website. But the problem is that every job seems to require a college degree or prior experience, and unfortunately, I have neither.
After a deep breath, I click the blue arrow on the website, leading me to the twelfth page of job listings. I’ve yet to find one that would even consider me, but I’m determined to get an interview if it’s the last thing I do. I’ll worry how to convince Nana this is right when I get to that step because my grandma doesn’t want me to work while I’m in school, insisting that “I enjoy being a kid,” as if that’s possible. I’m not one of those kids that gets to relax and not stress about life. My parents are probably living it up who knows where, while I’m here struggling to help my brother without starving my Nana.