“But I’m still so bitter! Exactly!” Jamila said. “And you know how yesterday we were talking about getting more teens involved in our work? Well, I had a great idea while I was driving home: you know how people always say the best time to get teenagers talking to you about what’s really going on with them is while you’re in the car? What if we paired up teens and our adult volunteers to do deliveries, in a sort of stealth mentorship program? It would get the kids more involved in the community and the center, and over the course of the weeks and months, they’d get to know the other volunteers, and have someone else to get advice from and rely on.”

Olivia could feel a huge grin spreading across her face.

“I love this idea.”

Jamila grinned back at her.

“Good, because I love it too—thank you for inspiring it. But …”

“But you’re worried that if you tell your boss, he won’t give you the credit for it. Again.”

Jamila nodded.

“Exactly. And don’t get me wrong, I really love this job, and for the most part I get to have a lot of free rein, and I feel really proud of the work we do. But he takes all the credit for it! Over and over again! I’m sorry for ranting about this, you’re a volunteer, but I just saw the board meeting minutes, and it goes over all of the meals we’ve made and given out over the last quarter, and congratulates him, again, for his great idea! Olivia, I’m so mad I could spit.”

Olivia wished she were surprised.

“What I would do— ” She stopped herself. “I’m sorry, like the older sibling I am, I have the habit of giving advice whether someone asks for it or not. Do you want advice? I promise, it won’t hurt my feelings if you say no, you just needed to vent over some nachos.”

Jamila shook her head.

“No, I’d love your advice, actually. That’s partly why I brought it up. You always seem so … put together and no-nonsense. Like you wouldn’t stand that shit for a minute.”

Olivia sighed. She was glad she seemed like that, at least.