Her screen was pointed directly at my face.
“You’re just a background character in my video,” she added.
Harold leaned toward me.
“Would you like me to call Kelly?”
I looked at my ruined lunch, the glass I no longer wanted to touch, and the hair hanging over my tray.
Then I looked at Brittany.
“No, Harold. I think I’ve had enough.”
I reached beneath my seat and opened my handbag.
Inside was Emily’s little gift.
A bright pink tub of children’s slime, filled with glitter.
It was supposed to be a silly present for a twelve-year-old girl.
I had bought it because I remembered what it felt like to be a child, and because I knew that sometimes the smallest things could make a difficult day brighter.
Now, however, I was looking at a woman who seemed determined to make everyone else’s day miserable.
