I opened my bedroom door a crack so I could hear if the baby started crying. My mom didn’t ask for my help often, but with four younger brothers and sisters, I felt like I should.
The phone started ringing while I was crossing the room. I fell back on the bed, answering, “Hey.” I knew it was Casey wanting to discuss the day’s events.
“Today was the worst day in the history of forever!”
“It wasn’t that bad,” I reassured.
“Are you kidding? I’m humiliated. How can I show my face there again?”
I snickered, “I would wash it first.”
“Very funny. You wouldn’t be saying that if it were you.”
“It kind of was,” I reminded her. “The day before I was covered in flour.”
“That’s not the same.”
I flipped over and stared at a photo on my nightstand taken of the two us at a football game last year. Casey in her cheerleader uniform, tall and slim, standing next to me wearing my shapeless band uniform.
“Why is it not the same?”
“I don’t know. It just… isn’t. Besides,” she brushed off, “you’ve never mentioned you like him.”
“Well he’s cute,” I remembered his smile, “and nice.”
Casey paused, “It doesn’t matter anyway. I’m quitting.”
Dismayed, I responded, “Quitting?!”
“I hate working there, and mom said I could quit.”
Casey was the only girl and the baby of the family. Her parents never made her do anything she didn’t want to do.
“Besides,” she added, “mom told me that they changed their minds. We are going to the beach for a week. We leave Friday.”
“That sounds fun.” I couldn’t believe Casey was going to walk out on Mrs. Thompson.
“I know, and the best part is that she said you can come with us!”
“Uh, I don’t know. We promised Mrs. Thompson.”
Flabbergasted, she replied, “You aren’t going to go? You’re not quitting too?”
Her tone sealed my decision. “No. I’m not.”
This week Trifecta asked us to use the third definition of the word crack (a narrow opening), and Write On Edge gave us two options, a photo of men’s accessories and the song “These Boots Are Made For Walking.” Maybe not in the spirit of the song, but Casey is walking out on something.
Photo Attribute: Allie Pasquier. This photo was adapted via a Creative Commons License.