It was my turn to count the money. Usually between one and two million on any given day.

Jane: don’t mess it up.

I never do. The ten key calculator was like an extension of my arm. I had a little wooden desk inside the vault, which felt closed in. Bags of money on the floor, coins, bills, everything. It all had to be verified. It took most of the day.

Jane: has to be done by four so I can get home to the kids!

We got an hour lunch and I took every minute. Taco Bell was only a short drive and my friend Jenny worked there, but I didn’t like to talk to her wile she was working and I was in my dress up clothes for the bank. It felt odd. Like I was making fun of her or something.

Her car was there, and she usually worked at the counter, so I went through the drive through and sat in the parking lot eating in my car and I see Jenny coming out and walking towards the car. I roll down the window, summer air enters, humid.

Jenny: what the hell?

Just eating lunch.

Jenny: if you came inside I’d give you free nachos.

She brought the nachos and cheese over and sat with me in a booth. The air conditioning was cold. She was on her break.

Her: I’m so tired of this stuff, I usually bring a salad.

Me: sometimes I go eat at my grandma’s.

Her: why didn’t you come in?

Me: I feel weird in my shirt and tie.

Her: You know I make more per hour than you do right?

The nachos were hot, salty, crunchy, the cheese tasted of nothing mixed with fat globules. It was very orange.

I’m thinking about dropping out.

Me: Oh yeah?

I’m eighteen. I can right? The manager here said I could transfer.

Me: that sounds good.

Mom said she don’t care. Just do what you want. It’s your life.

My hour was almost up and I knew I had to get back to the vault to finish counting the money so that Jane could get home on time.

I’ve got to get going.

Jenny: yeah, sure…sure. Want a refill?

She brought me a refill of soda and she kissed my cheek.

Just in case I don’t see you again.