DeannaProach

Maria leans nonchalantly against the back wall inside the washroom, puffing on a cigarette while chatting away with her two best friends, Alejandra and Maya. Alejandra also puffs on a cigarette while Maya pulls a red, felt marker from her purse. They don't care that the smoke from their cigarettes forms a thin, white cloud around them or that the washroom is inside of El Sid Secondary School, the three-story building that, most days, feels more like a prison than a place to learn and develop intellectually. Smoking is taboo in almost every public restroom, but it's especially so here. In the past, students have been expelled for doing this

"Damnit, Rachel! I told you to sweep up those cobwebs ten minutes ago. What's the matter with you? Why aren't you listening to me?" Catherine snaps. I roll my eyes for the fiftieth time today and whisper -- through gritted teeth --"Everything's wrong with you, and nothing's wrong with me. I'm not listening to you because you're really driving me crazy." Catherine is my boss; I've been taking care of her (minus the toilet stuff) and her house for a little over two years now. She may be seventy-eight, but she's certainly not frail or meek hearted. Catherine is like fire and ice: some days she smothers me with kindness and (cheap and unnecessa