Romane von Ella Brooks

The job listing at Rosetti’s Italian Restaurant feels like a lifeline when I find it tucked on a community board at the public library. Part-time server wanted, flexible hours and no experience necessary.I take a photo of the number before anyone else can see it.I apply that same afternoon, and by the end of the week, I’m standing in front of Tony Rosetti himself; a broad-shouldered man with flour dusting his apron and laugh lines around his eyes,learning how to balance three plates at once without dropping them.“You’re a natural,” he says after I nail it on the second try. “When can you start?”“Tomorrow?”He laughs. “I like the enthusiasm. Friday night. Six o’clock. Don’t be late.”My plan is simple; work and save every penny, and the second I turn eighteen, I’m gone. No more depending on my father’s guilt-driven attempts to make up for a lifetime of absence. I know the money isn’t exactly great, but it’s mine and right now, that’s all that matters.Weeks into school and I’m b

“I’m s…..” Before I could utter anymore words, he steps closer and I can see a vein pulsing in his temple.“Do you have any idea how much this shirt cost? Of course, you don’t.”“It was an accident. I…I honestly didn’t mean to…”“Right. Let me guess, this is your way of getting my attention?”“What?” Something inside me snaps and I suddenly have no reason to feel bad anymore.“Get your attention? Trust me, that’s the last thing I want and maybe if you weren’t standing in the middle of the cafeteria like you own it, this wouldn’t have happened.”His eyes flash. “I actually own it and you? You’re here, because of my family’s charity. Don’t forget that.”The cafeteria erupts in whispers and stares. And now, my hands are shaking so badly that I can barely hold my empty tray.“Oh my God!” Annabel breathes. “June, what just happened?”“Someone pushed me,” I say again in a hollow voice. I scan the crowd behind me, trying to find who did it, but everyone’s looking away, pretending they didn’t

I woke up at 5 AM, exactly the same time I always did at home before I remembered that home doesn’t exist anymore.The room feels too quiet; no traffic sounds, no neighbors arguing through thin walls, no radiator clanking. Just silence, heavy and suffocating.I force myself up, shower in the attached bathroom, wondering what it is that Mrs Margaret was reluctant to say and pull on jeans and a t-shirt. My new school uniform is hanging on the back of the door, navy blazer, white button-down, plaid skirt. It still has the tags on. Dad must have left it while I was sleeping.I leave it hanging and head out to find the staff dining room. The mansion is still confusing, but I follow the smell of coffee until I find a large, comfortable room where staff members are gathering for breakfast.Dad is already there, wearing his uniform. He looks up when I enter, relieved.“June. Good morning. Did you sleep okay?”“Fine.” I slide into a seat across from him, avoiding eye contact.Mrs. Margaret

The word hits so deep that it brings me to the reality that mom is never ever coming back. How am I supposed to live with people I barely know, when it’s this hard to look the person I call dad, in the eye? What do I do, mom? “Your mom would have wanted that for you. She wouldn’t want you living alone.”The word sinks and a little bit comforting as if he could read my mind on this, as if it was mom speaking through him but it’s still not fair. I mean, mom just died and I’m supposed to move on with my life like nothing happened? “So I’m supposed to what? Move in with you and act like nothing happened? Oh! You need a reason for mom to forgive you?"He was never there for her when she needed her the most, maybe he left, because I really am cursed, because if I wasn’t, why would someone like mom die? Just like that?“You have no choice, June.”The bluntness of it steals my breath, because he’s right, and we both know it.“This is your fault,” I whisper. “She worked herself to death, bec

I can’t breathe.Not because something is wrong but for once in my life, everything is right. I’m standing in our apartment doorway, staring at my mother like she’s lost her mind.There’s a cake on our coffee table; an actual bakery cake. I can’t believe this!“Mom, what did you do?”She’s grinning at me like she just won a lottery, hands clasped together and practically bouncing on her feet. Mom?Really mom? She barely has time to give me a good morning kiss, yet she’s doing all of these? This is so unlike her.She works double shifts and comes home falling asleep during TV shows because she’s too exhausted to keep her eyes open.But right now? She looks twenty years younger.“Congratulations, June!” She throws her arms wide. “My baby received a gold medal at the International Spelling Bee!”I guess she really did win a lottery!I drop my bag and nearly tackle her with a hug. She laughs, and I feel it vibrate through her whole body. When’s the last time I heard her laugh like th