“You’re going to be fine…it’s probably just about your paperwork.” My Mom’s gaze is focused on the road but I can feel her certainty. “Or maybe they called you in to tell you how amazing you are.” My Aunt’s eyes smile at me through the rear-view mirror.

 “I wouldn’t go that far,” I laugh back at her, easing my fears just as we come to a stand-still in the parking lot.

 “Call us when you get out of the meeting. We’ll be at the store down the street, but we’ll come and get you.” I nod and smile at Jesse, one of my coworkers, as she walks past. She sees me but is probably too focused to smile back. The car crunches across the lot before pulling away. ‘Just about paperwork. Only paperwork.’

The building is cold as usual. I wish I had thrown on a jacket; I’m used to running around, cleaning, and working, not sitting. Dee Dee, the owner, walks into the lobby. “Hey,” I say, smiling up at her. 

“Hey! Good morning! I’ll meet you in the office in a sec.” She shoots me a grin and disappears into the back again. 

The office is the color of sweet mango slices with lime green accents. My dusty rose sweatshirt is resting on the table; I thank my stars and pull it over my head. The door opens noiselessly and Dee Dee reappears. “You should sit,” she says as she bounces over to the mini fridge and pulls out two cans of La Croix. Then she walks over to the table, sets them down and sits. Following her lead, I go to sit in front of the second can. “Um, that’s not for you,” She quickly motions to a third chair and says quietly: “Sit there.” 

“Oh, sorry.” I sit quickly. 

The door opens once more and in walks Katie, my manager. I instantly know what this meeting is about and a cocktail of dread and confusion stirs in my chest; I thought I had gotten the “Mckenna issue” resolved. Why am I here? “Hi, Madeline.” Katie speaks tensely, not quite as good at hiding her awkwardness as Dee Dee. Katie sits down in front of the other La Croix and snaps it open. We all listen to it fizz in silence. 

“Do you know why you’re here?” Dee Dee asks after the drink goes silent. 

“Not exactly”, I answer. My hands start to shake slightly in my lap; my nerves are already shot. 

“Tell us about last week then.” Her stare is intimidating, and I try to steady myself with a breath. I’m not on trial. I’m just here to explain. 

“Last week I had a misunderstanding with Mckenna about shift duties but I talked to Katie and we figured it all out.” Katie shifts in her seat and Dee Dee’s laugh rolls through the office. 

“I don’t care about that. Do you think you’re doing well, Madeline? Do you feel like you’re handling everything? Is everything working out for you?” The tension in my stomach eases up; she’s just checking up on me. “Yeah, I feel like I’ve been doing well. I’ve been told I’m doing pretty good too, so I hope it’s working out.” I smile across the table at her. She takes a sip and pauses. 

“Well, that’s the exact opposite of what I’ve heard.”

“Oh. I-” 

“Never in my year of running this business have I had such a large scale complaint.”

“I’m sorry? I don’t think I understand.” 

My head rushes fast. The room is too quiet. Dee Dee takes another sip from the pastel can. The hissing from the angry liquid only adds to the hard static in my mind. “After getting a complaint from one of my employees, I decided to go digging and ask the rest of the staff about your behavior on Friday, and to my surprise everyone I asked had something to say. Jesse said you trash-talked Kristen, that she’s too strict and annoying; and that you’re glad you’re out of training so you can relax. I also heard you mocked the staff and gave everyone dirty looks when you didn’t get your way.”  My brain skips across Friday, and comes up empty. I worked almost exclusively by myself that day, cleaning the facility. 

“I guess I don’t understand. Maybe Jesse misunderstood what I said? I told her Kristen was thorough in her training and that I feel well prepared.”

 Dee Dee looks at me. “So is Jesse lying?”
“I’m not going to say she’s lying, I think she didn’t understand or maybe I explained it in a bad way, maybe?” I respond.

“Either she’s right or you’re right, Madeline. Either you’re lying or she’s lying. So is it Jesse who’s lying?” Dee Dee shoots back.

I search in futility for a common ground. Jesse isn’t a liar and neither am I. She and I had talked about her tattoo on Friday, we talked about her homecoming and about my training and what it was like compared to hers. “I wasn’t really trained; it was a little spacey,” she had said. 

“Kristen is super thorough. It’s really nice. I feel well prepared.” I had replied.

 Jesse had smiled at me, summing up both our thoughts with, “Kristen definitely knows what she’s doing.”

” I still think it was a misunderstanding,” I say quietly to Dee Dee.

 “Okay, sure. What about the mocking and the dirty looks? Are you in middle school? I don’t want someone with the maturity of a twelve year old working here.” 

“I know I didn’t mock or glare at anyone,” I quietly state. I’m absolutely certain in this. The only person I had worked with on Friday was Alyssa, by far one of my favorite people at the kennel. You’d think we were just hanging out by the way we talked to each other. 

“I think you just don’t know. You’re not self aware enough. You, like most children, can’t control yourself to the full extent required for a work environment.” 

“I guess I’m just a little confused.”

“Exactly, that’s why you’re being terminated.” Her voice was quiet but tart. She takes another sip. 

I look between Dee Dee and Katie and back again. Katie opens and closes her mouth a couple times. Finally she mumbles, “I’m a little confused too. I’ve only had good interactions with you. I don’t how it went so wrong so fast.” Dee Dee doesn’t look at her. 

“Check in mail okay? Do you have anything left here? I see you grabbed your sweatshirt so that isn’t an issue.” Dee Dee’s voice is static-y as the La Croix continues to spritz. 

“Check in the mail is fine, and I think the sweatshirt was it. Thank you for this opportunity.” 

Tears are like pins in the back of my eyes. ‘Be professional’ I tell myself. Immaturity is only emboldened by tears. Nobody looks at me as I walk out of the office. The air is cold, even as I walk out into the summer sun. 

My mom and aunt pick me up in the Fred Meyer parking lot. Tears streaming down my face; I climb into the backseat and try to stifle my breathing. They both turn around and look me up and down. 

“Did you get fired?” My aunt asks me delicately. 

“Yes” I whisper back,

“Why? What did she say?” My Mom chimes in. She’s confused, like I am, I can hear it soaking through the words. 

“I just want to go home,” My voice cracks. It doesn’t matter, I say it to the window more than anything else. 

“What happened? What’d she say?” My mom says a little softer.

The tears really start to stream.