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I race back to join my shift and put in a few extra hours. Five thousand dollars! How am I going to come up with that kind of money in just one week? I only make minimum wage at McDonald's and Starbucks. Even with nonstop double shifts at both places, I'd never make enough in time.
As I pull my bike into the parking lot, I notice the line of customers stretching out the door. A sinking feeling settles in my stomach, and I know my abrupt departure has left my coworkers struggling to pick up the slack. I take a deep breath and step out of my car, preparing myself for the storm I'm about to walk into.
"Robin!" one of my coworkers, Tina, shouts as soon as I enter the restaurant. "Where the hell have you been? We're swamped!"
"I'm sorry," I apologize quickly, tying my apron back on as I hurry behind the counter. "I had an emergency."
"An emergency?" she snaps, her eyes narrowing into slits. "You better have a good explanation for this."
"Look, I can't talk about it right now," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. "But I promise I'll make it up to everyone."
"Whatever," Tina huffs before turning her attention back to the customers, who are growing increasingly impatient.
"Next!" I call out, plastering a smile on my face as I try to push my own problems aside for the moment. It's not fair to let my troubles affect my coworkers or the customers.
"About time," a man grumbles as he approaches the counter. "I've been waiting here for twenty minutes."
"Again, I'm really sorry," I tell him, forcing the words out through gritted teeth. "What can I get for you?"
The night drags on, each disgruntled customer a stark reminder of the mess I've made. But it's nothing compared to the mess that awaits me outside these walls. As I take orders and serve up greasy food, my mind races with potential solutions to my problem. I need money—and fast.
Maybe I can ask Dave for more hours? An advance?
The moment my shift ends, I practically sprint toward Dave’s office, propelled by desperation. I know I need to make up for leaving work earlier, and the only way I can think of is working overtime.
"Dave, please," I beg as I barge into his office, my heart pounding in my chest. "Can you let me work some extra hours? I'll do anything—cleaning, stocking, whatever you need."
He looks up from his paperwork, his expression stern. "Robin, what happened today was unacceptable. You left us hanging during peak hours despite me saying you couldn’t."
"I know. I'm really sorry," I say, tears welling up in my eyes. "But something terrible happened with my family, and I had no choice. Please, I need the money."
"Your coworkers had to pick up your slack," he says, unmoved by my pleading. "I can't reward that by giving you more hours."
"Please," I choke out again, feeling utterly defeated. "I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important."
"Robin," Dave sighs, rubbing his temples. "You're a good worker, but I have to draw the line somewhere. After some consideration, I’ve decided we have to let you go."
I stare at him in disbelief, my heart sinking like a lead weight in my stomach. Did he really just say that? I'm about to lose both my job and my last hope of saving my brother from Uncle Ray's clutches.
"Wh-what?" I stammer, my voice barely a whisper.
"We can't afford to have unreliable employees that leave their coworkers hanging," he explains. "You're a smart kid, Robin. I'm sure you'll find something else."
"But... I need the money," I plead, my grip tightening on my purse. "I can't lose my brother."
"I'm sorry, Robin," he says, looking genuinely pained. "But everyone in here has got a problem or two."
“Dave, you can’t do this to me. Not now.”
“I already have. Please leave before I have to call the guards.” He avoids my gaze as he says it.
"Fine," I whisper, my voice barely audible. As I leave his office, my legs feel like they might buckle beneath me.
"Hey, Robin," a sympathetic voice calls out, bringing me back to reality. It's Jess, one of my coworkers who always seems to understand when things aren't quite right. She wraps her armaround my shoulders, guiding me to a quiet corner of the break room.
"Listen, I couldn't help but overhear your conversation with Dave," she says gently. “Are you going to be alright?”
“I… I don’t know,” I begin to cry. “I need the cash, Jess. My little brother depends on me, and the thing is, we owe money to some guys. It’s all happening so fast, and I only have a week to come up with the cash.”
