Deja looked up from her computer to see one of her best work friends, Toni Ward, walking toward her. Her voice rose over the din of over a hundred faculty members and administrators, all trying to find a seat and catch up with one another. Deja wasn’t nearly as bold as her friend, so she waited until Toni fell into the empty seat to her left to reply.

“Why, are you the feds?” she asked with a smile.

This meeting might have been the lowlight of Deja’s month — every month — but at least it gave her an excuse to see her favorite people.

“Girl, call me the feds again, and I’ll keep this muffin I brought you,” she teased with a wink.

Deja’s eyes widened, and she clapped her hands together excitedly. “You brought me a muffin?”

“Chocolate chip,” Toni said smugly as she threw her nameplate carelessly on the table and started digging around in her bag.

Deja snatched the thick cardstock and stood it upright so her name — Antonia Ward, Political Science — faced the crowd.

Toni pulled a plastic container from her bag, pulled the lid off, and pushed the muffins closer to Deja’s computer.

Deja folded her hands over her chest and smiled at the baked goods with pure joy suffusing her body as she considered which muffin she wanted — which looked best — when someone reached around Toni to snatch the dish by the closest corner and pull it across the table.

“Bless you,” Marie Lau said. Her voice was tired, and not just because she was out of breath. Deja watched as she grabbed a muffin and took a large bite, closing her eyes as she chewed.

“Damn, girl,” Toni and Deja said at the same time.

Marie ignored them and continued eating her muffin as her face relaxed with serenity, and Deja watched her with interest.

Marie’s hair fell around her shoulders in dark brown waves. Her jagged bangs skimmed her eyelashes, impeccably styled as always, but only because getting her hair done was the only luxury she allowed herself or could reasonably afford. From there, Marie was the picture of exhausted, overworked adjunct. There were dry erase smudges on the heels of her hands, her sweater was bunched in the strap of her crossbody bag, and her ugly but comfortable tennis shoes didn’t match her outfit, a faux pas she never would have made normally, but rushing across campus to teach five or six classes a semester mandated comfort over style. All the faculty members on campus were tired, even so early in the semester, but Marie’s — and the other adjuncts’ — exhaustion was always on another level.