By her twentieth birthday, there are a few things Valarie Ricci knows for certain.
She knows that her waitressing job barely covers the costs of living out of a beat up old van. She knows she's stuck in the dead end hometown her high school friends...
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Nonno only woke her up twice that night. Both times he wandered out of his bedroom fully dressed and announced that he had places to be. Valarie pointed out the window to the complete darkness and argued that the time was, in fact, 2 AM and he had absolutely nowhere to be. He didn't believe her, and it took about twenty minutes each time for her to coax him back into bed.
She spent the next morning doing what little math she was actually capable of: adding, subtracting, and trying her hardest to magically multiply one dollar into a hundred. After figuring out the house, car, and insurance bills, she calculated what they had left over for food and made a list of what they needed.
After dropping him off at daycare, Valarie made a day-trip to the grocery store, where she stuffed the cart full of her usual assortment of boxed pasta, ramen packets, canned food, and whatever else she either had a coupon for or could find on the clearance shelf. The one benefit of Nonno's condition was that he couldn't really complain about eating the same stuff everyday. Valarie, on the other hand...
There's only so many ways to cook 89 cent beans before you also start to wish you had dementia.
She stopped to chat with Kylie Perez, who was working on one of the cashes. They'd had some classes together last year, but Kylie had gotten pregnant over summer break and hadn't come back for their final year. Once, Valarie had bought Kylie some Tylenol because she'd complained about her back hurting and ever since she'd shared her staff discount–which was a genuine godsend.
On Valarie's way out the door, Kylie grabbed her hand and pressed it against her belly. The baby kicked against Valarie's palm, and it was the weirdest fucking feeling ever. They both giggled about it.
It turned out to be the highlight of Valarie's week. The next few days followed similar routines, even down to the same commercials lulling her to sleep at night on the living room couch.
She didn't go back to school until Thursday, buying Ms. Izida another coffee before their class because she had some notion that Ms. Izida couldn't take back everything she'd said about Valarie not flunking out if she bribed her with caffeine. Maybe, by some miracle, coffee could save her academic career. Ms. Izida gave her another lecture about attendance, and Valarie promised to try harder.
Alice was in class, too. She couldn't be sure if Alice noticed her or not. Valarie noticed Alice, though. She couldn't stop noticing her.
She seemed bone-tired. Her shoulders didn't hold the same amount of tension as on her first day, but she still looked ready to punch someone. Band-Aids covered her knuckles, and she moved like she had a headache. When Valarie asked if she was okay, Alice gave her a tight-lipped smile and nodded without another word.
Another week passed, and, spurred on by her own sense of guilt, Valarie made a vow to attend at least three full days of class per week. When she fucked up almost immediately, the guilt tripled. Her head often felt like it would explode from the effort it took for her to sit behind a desk for so long–and that was aside from having any hope of actually keeping up with what was being taught. One of her teachers didn't even know Valarie was in his class, which was particularly insulting since he'd taught her the year before and the school was basically the size of a hazelnut. She got yelled at for talking in a drama class. Wasn't talking the whole goddamn point?
