“So, anyway, we won’t really need volunteers anymore,” Shelley says.
My heart does an awful thud-thud in my chest.
“Oh, I don’t mind staying on!” I say quickly. “I like working here. Maybe I can just... focus on the events and the school tours.”
That wouldn’t be so bad, really. It’s my favorite part of the job.
“Oh, the girls can handle that,” Shelley says. “Thanks, though.”
I stare at her for several painful heartbeats. Does she mean—
Is shefiringme?
“I can help with other stuff,” I say in a thin voice. “Whatever would be useful.”
“Oh, no,” Shelley says. “It’s fine. Thanks, though.” She repeats that stupid, condescending phrase again. “And you’re still welcome to come to our event on Canada Day,” she adds. “It’s going to be really wonderful.”
My mouth drops open. I’m stillwelcome? She says it like it’sherevent. Like I should feel lucky she’s even giving me an invitation.
Suddenly I want to burst into tears. This ismyevent. I did so much work!
I open my mouth to try to argue, but before I can speak, a pretty girl in her early twenties edges past me into the room. She has two coffee cups in her hands.
“Should I, like, go sell people tickets?” she asks, as she hands one of the coffees to Shelley.
“Thanks, hon,” Shelley says. “Sit down a minute, first, we need to talk about the Canada Day party.”
Hon? Who is this girl, her daughter?
The girl in question looks at me inquisitively. “Do you work here too?”
“She used to volunteer here,” Shelley answers, before I can speak. “She helped plan the Canada Day event.”
Helped?Helped? I planned the whole thing! Me and Trey and Kiara, I mean.
“Cool,” says the girl.
“Are you two—related?” I ask. Somehow, I keep my voice from shaking with anger.
“Oh, yeah,” the girl says pleasantly. “Shelley’s my mom. Mom slash boss, now.” She cracks a white-toothed grin.
I fix Shelley with a frank, incredulous stare, but not a lick of shame crosses the woman’s face.
“Close the door when you leave, will you?” she says. “We’ve got a lot of work to do!” she adds to her daughter, in a bright, jovial tone that makes me want to smack her.
My fists clench at my sides. I can’t just let her fire me. I have to stand up for myself.
“I don’t think this is fair,” I blurt out.
Shelley raises an eyebrow. “Come now, Emily,” she says. “You’re being a bit rude.”
There’s an edge to her words. A bit rude. That’s just what I said to her at the Barrel Into Summer event.
That’s why she’s doing this. She’s probably been planning it ever since then. She just needed me to plan the whole Canada Day event for her first.
“You can’t just—”
“The door, please,” she interrupts. “Thanks.”
