I considered Janelle’s school shoes. She was fourteen now and in eighth grade. Her sneakers had a split along the side where the rubber was coming away from the canvas. She’d been wrapping them with duct tape and coloring the tape with a black marker so no one wouldn’tice.
If my boss wanted to give me a little extra money for taking his daughter to prom, it would make things a little easier for Mom and Janelle. ShopParty Decor
“Okay,” I said.
We were eating spaghetti, the cheap kind, with sauce from a jar. Janelle was reading a book under the table, which she wasn’t supposed to do.
“I’m going to prom tomorrow,” I said.
“You’re going to prom?”
“My boss’s daughter needs a date.”
“Your boss is paying you to take his daughter to prom?” ShopParty Decor
“He didn’t say paying. He said he’d make it worth my while.”
