Fifteen and Change Read online

  Five Thousand

  We’re at five thousand! Mary brags. More like $21.75, I think. We’re at $21.75. Scott wipes his mouth. I think of Mary’s Bloody Valentine. But Scott isn’t coughing blood. He just ate peppers too fast. He says, Mary, get me a Coke. She runs to the cooler and I walk off the job.

  Wait!

  Mary yells. We just got an order for a hundred pizzas for delivery to the courthouse. Scott spits his Coke. What? He points at me. If you walk out that door, you’re fired.

  Covered in Pizza Sauce

  like a soldier covered in blood, I walk out of Casa de Pizza. I saved my boss’s life. Then he fired me. I keep walking. The sun warms me. Red tulips pop in the yards. Hip-hop rolls out of open car windows. I’m heading downtown covered in blood. (well, sauce) People stare. Their eyes make my body feel light like I’m carrying balloons.

  After an Hour

  an old red Honda waiting at the light honks at me. The driver wears a Casa cap. It’s Bud, the ancient delivery driver with the white and yellow beard. He gives me a thumbs-up. He speeds away, listening to Metallica. Pizzas piled in his back seat.

  The Sun Is So Warm

  I roll up my sleeves. Catch sight of myself in the window of the Payday Loans. Bare-armed and bloody, but bouncy, basking in the sun. Suddenly it’s dark. There in the shadow of all the tall downtown buildings, I get goose bumps. Then I hear cheering. Like our team just won. I start running.

  Pizza Court

  When I get to the courthouse, I see a huge crowd roaring. Bud’s in the middle, passing out pizzas for free. Everyone calls him Santa because of his white beard, red Honda, presents.

  The Homeless Shelter

  is across the street from the courthouse in an old church. Black bricks. Busted stained glass. Little kids on the broken steps. A boy with a headless doll smiles when he sees me. No teeth. Mary’s son. I wave. He salutes.

  I Round Up the Shelter Kids

  Yell, Everybody line up! Five, then ten kids hold hands. We march across the street. When they see the kid parade, the crowd goes wild. I grab a box of pizza. Pass out slices. The kids get sauce on their faces from eating while smiling.

  Olivia Cinderella

  Wearing a fancy pink ball gown and a sparkly crown, Olivia jumps onto the hood of Bud’s Honda. Yells, Let them eat pizza! The crowd whoops. But hearing Olivia’s voice feels like biting into an olive and breaking my tooth on a pit. Maybe I should go home, I think.

  Someone Taps Me on the Shoulder

  When I turn around, it’s Hannah, hiding her eyes with her hair. She’s made a banner. Red paint on a roll of brown paper towels. I take one end. She takes the other. We stretch out the banner between us. It says, BLOOD PIZZA

  I’ve Seen Her on TV

  but in person the newswoman is tiny. Can I ask you some questions for the evening news? She points to my apron. Great costume, by the way. It’s not a costume, I say. Great answer, she says. Then, to the cameraman: Did you get that?

  Don’t Look at the Camera

  She sticks a microphone in my face. Says, Don’t look at the camera. Look at me. Can you tell us about why you’re here today? And what is Blood Pizza?

  The Opposite of Invisible

  I talk to the reporter. Speak into the mic. You know you’re eating blood pizza when the people who make it live in homeless shelters. You know you’re eating blood pizza when the people who make it can’t take a sick day. Cough up blood on the counter.

  Hold on a Second

  says the newswoman. Which pizza place do you work at? Is there really blood in the pizza? I look at Hannah. She smiles weird. Sticks out her front teeth like a mouse and squeaks. Yes, it’s true, I say. And there’s mice, too. I work at Casa de Pizza.

  The Media’s Story

  The news doesn’t show Olivia standing on the hood of the Honda, saying, Let them eat pizza. They show me in my apron. Saucy. Saying, Blood pizza. The news story isn’t really about paying better wages, which sucks. It’s about gross stuff that gets in food. Like mouse poop. Too bad.

  Watching the News with Mom and Paul

  Mom screams. Jumps up and down on the couch like a little kid. Saying, Zekers! Zekers, is that really you on the news? Paul says, Don’t bust the couch, britch. But Mom is too excited to hear him. She jumps and jumps and oops, kicks Paul in the head.

  At First It’s Weird

  being fired. Having so much time. I used to lie in my bed. Stare at the ceiling. Practice being invisible. Now I’m just bored. I miss the warm ovens. The ringing phones. Even Mary’s ponytail. I miss it

  Timothy Knocks on My Door

  Paul jumps back. Paul is afraid of people who don’t look like him. So afraid he lets Timothy in to see me without asking any questions. Scott got fired after that news report went viral, Timothy says. I’m manager now. And I need a real expert in cheese lock. Can I offer you a job?

  Maybe

  we didn’t get $15 an hour. Yet. Maybe Olivia didn’t love me back. But she got me to fight and maybe fighting is winning. Maybe Mom will never leave Paul. But I can leave them both. And maybe Hannah and I will make mad cash selling Blood Pizza T-shirts online. We already have like 50 orders.

  No One

  gets in trouble for calling in sick anymore. I make $9 an hour, the most Timothy could get me. But we’re still having meetings to plan actions, battle actions to fight for bread and roses. Not just us. Other fast food people, too. We meet at Casa right after close. The fight for fifteen smells like pizza.

  Mouse House

  That girl. Mouse house girl. Hot cocoa in the snow girl. Freedom fighter girl. Quiet girl. My girlfriend? Maybe. Kind of. At school we eat lunch in the park. I tell Hannah about Blue Way, about standing on a frozen lake. She tells me about Oaxaca, Mexico, and baskets full of flowers, wild marigolds in November.

  Lunch Dreams

  Hannah and I share a spoon to split a pudding cup. I tell her about how I lied to my mom. Said I was at Nature Club when really I was working. Nature Club sounds like something you’d like in real life, Hannah says. Like, field trips and stuff? I say, handing her the spoon. Why not? she says. Let’s make it happen.

  Nature Club

  is a real thing now. No joke. Hannah and I asked Mr. Leo the bio teacher to be advisor. He can use the school van to drive us out of the city into the woods. Let’s go, bird nerds, he says, and drives six of us out of the city. Out of the city, and into the forest.

  The Woods

  Hannah and I take a winding trail. The air smells crisp like where I’m from. Bright circles of light shine through the leaf canopy. Leaves tremble so the forest looks like a game of hopscotch. Hannah takes my hand. My heart jumps. There in the leaf-light, in the pine breeze, it’s like I’m back in Blue Way. Only better.

  Bidwell Academy for Girls Admission

  Prompt: What’s Your Dream? I dream watching stars burn. I dream blazing truth. My dreams are singed, charred, scorched, and seared. Fifty-cent plastic lighters littering streets fade hope’s pathway. But I dream eyes open, fingers on keyboards, finding chords, dreaming melodies. Finding words. I dream goals, gleaming glittering glowing. Lighting moments. I dream spirit building, souls lifting, hopes thunder. With pens, with pencils, I’m writing my dreams on fire.