One Night

Aurora

The autumn wind cuts through my thin jacket as I hurry across campus, clutching my textbooks against my chest like a shield. My breath comes out in small white puffs, and I duck my head against the cold, watching my worn sneakers navigate the cracked sidewalk. I should have bought a warmer coat weeks ago, but the choice between warmth and eating has become an easy one to make lately.

I’m so focused on getting to the library; my sanctuary, my second home, the place where I can pretend everything is fine, that I almost miss it.

A splash of color against the dull gray of the bulletin board catches my eye. Pink. Bright, almost neon pink. It shouldn’t draw me in, but something about it makes me stop. Makes me turn. Makes me walk the three steps back to look closer. NOW HIRING!

The words are printed in bold black letters across the top of the flyer. Below them, an address I don’t recognize and a time frame for interviews: Monday through Friday, 6 PM to 9 PM. That’s it. No job description. No company name. No indication of what kind of work they’re offering or what qualifications they need.

My fingers hover near the flyer, trembling slightly. It could be anything. It could be nothing. It could be... “Aurora!”

I jump, my heart leaping into my throat as I spin around. Jenna is jogging toward me, her light-brown hair bouncing in its ponytail, a bright smile on her face that makes her look like she doesn’t have a care in the world. Maybe she doesn’t. Jenna’s parents help her with tuition. Jenna doesn’t lie awake at night calculating how many meals she can skip to make her food budget stretch another week.

“Hey,” I manage, forcing a smile that feels like it might crack my face. “I thought you had class.”

“Canceled. Professor Carmicheal is sick again.” She reaches me slightly out of breath, and her hazel eyes immediately narrow with concern. “You, okay? You look pale.”

“I’m fine,” I lie automatically. The words come so easily now. I’ve had a lot of practice. “Just cold.”

Jenna doesn’t look convinced, but she doesn’t push. She never does, which is both a blessing and a curse. Sometimes I wish she would push. Sometimes I wish someone would force me to admit that I’m drowning, that the water is over my head and I can’t touch the bottom anymore.

“Want to grab coffee?” she asks. “My treat.”

The offer is tempting; so damned tempting, but I shake my head. “I can’t. I need to study.”

“You’re always studying.” There’s no judgment in her voice, just gentle observation. “When’s the last time you took a break?”

I don’t answer because I don’t remember. Days blur together now, an endless cycle of classes and studying and the part-time job at the campus bookstore that pays just above minimum wage. It’s not enough. It’s never enough.

The letter from the admissions office is still folded in my backpack, the words burned into my memory even though I’ve only read it once. Outstanding balance... payment plan... withdrawal from classes if not resolved by...

Three weeks. I have three weeks to come up with two thousand dollars or I’m done. Finished! All the late nights, all the sacrifices, all the dreams of being the first person in my family to graduate from college, gone.

“Aurora?” Jenna’s voice pulls me back. “Seriously, are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I just...” I glance back at the flyer, at those bold letters that seem to pulse with possibility. Or danger. Or both. “Do you know anything about this?”

Jenna steps closer, squinting at the flyer. Her nose wrinkles. “No company name? No job description? That’s sketchy as hell.”

“Maybe,” I admit. “But maybe it’s legitimate.”

“Or maybe it’s a scam. Or worse.” She turns to me, her expression serious now. “Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

The word “stupid” echoes in my head. Is it stupid to be desperate? Is it stupid to consider any option, no matter how mysterious, when the alternative is watching everything you’ve worked for slip away?

“I promise,” I say, but the words feel hollow.

Jenna studies me for a long moment, and I can see the worry in her eyes. She knows something is wrong. She’s known for weeks, probably, but she’s been waiting for me to tell her. Waiting for me to ask for help.

But I can’t. I can’t burden her with my problems. I can’t admit that I’m failing at the one thing I’m supposed to be good at; surviving. “I have to go,” I say abruptly. “I really do need to study.”

“Okay.” Jenna reaches out and squeezes my arm gently. “But text me later? We can order pizza and watch something terrible on Netflix.”

“Sure,” I agree, knowing I probably won’t. Pizza costs money I don’t have, and I can’t sit still long enough to watch a movie anymore. My mind is always racing, always calculating, and always searching for a solution that doesn’t exist.

Jenna heads off towards the student center, and I stand there for another moment, staring at the flyer. My phone is in my pocket. I could take a picture of the address. I could show up for an interview. I could at least find out what kind of job they’re offering.

But Jenna’s right. It’s sketchy. No legitimate business would advertise like this, with so little information. It could be anything. It could be dangerous.

Then again, dropping out of college feels dangerous too. Going back home feels dangerous. Admitting defeat feels like the most dangerous thing of all.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I pull out my phone and snap a picture of the flyer. The click of the camera shutter sounds too loud in the quiet afternoon, like I’ve just done something irrevocable. Hell, maybe I have.

I shove my phone back in my pocket and hurry toward the library, my heart pounding harder than it should. It’s just a picture. Just information. I don’t have to do anything with it. I don’t have to show up for an interview.

But even as I tell myself this, I know I’m lying. I know that tonight, when I’m alone in my dorm room and Jenna is asleep and the darkness feels like it’s pressing in from all sides, I’ll look at that address again. I’ll consider it. I’ll wonder if maybe, just maybe, this mysterious job could be the answer I’ve been desperately searching for.

The library doors swing open, and I step into the warmth, into the familiar smell of old books and coffee and quiet desperation. I find my usual spot in the back corner, spread out my textbooks, and try to focus on the words in front of me.

But all I can see is that flyer. Those bold black letters. That address that could lead anywhere. NOW HIRING! Two words that might save me. Or destroy me. I won’t know until I try.