Nice Things

“They blame us for why they don’t have nice things.  It’s not my fault they can’t keep their affairs in order,” Jennifer muttered as she walked away from me.  My eyes started to burn since I knew she had muttered loud enough so I could hear her. 

I’m not sure what I had done to make her turn on me.  I worked part-time after school so I could help my dad pay rent as well as pay for my clothes and any other necessary items.  Her birthday party had been during one of my shifts and she was apparently very upset I hadn’t made it.  

I worked for my uncle’s catering business and the night of her birthday party there was a large wedding I was working and two of the other employees had already called out sick.  I couldn’t let my uncle down and I really needed the tips that would come along with the wedding. 

As the days passed and she didn’t call or text, I started to move on from our relationship.  It wasn’t until I got the letter in the mail that I realized she was jealous.  Jealous that somebody needed me.  Needed my help.  And not everything was handed to me.  Her three-page letter (who even writes letters?) reminded me of how selfish I had been, but also how she understood why I hadn’t come.  What I didn’t understand was why she started the rumors and the lies about why I really needed to work. 


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