This is exactly the kind of stuff we talk about on our way to lunch or at lunch, but she hasn’t moved an inch toward the cafeteria. This isn’t normal. And today of all days, I’ve got to have my defenses up.

“I mean, I like working there. But will it look bad on my future job applications that I’ve only worked for my uncle? It’s not like I can’t deny there’s a family connection; my last name is on the sign. I guess it’s better than working for my dad at the gas station.”

I take a step closer to the cafeteria, but Marian remains glued to my locker.

“You work really hard,” I say, because it’s true and just in case she is having some kind of work-related crisis. Anytime I’m at Gleason’s Grocer when Marian’s working, she’s always unpacking boxes or putting labels on food. Sometimes she’s at the register or slicing meat and cheese at the deli counter. “I guess it depends on if there’s another job you want to do.”

“There aren’t a lot of options here,” she states.

“Yeah, but you’re a Gleason.” Pretty much anybody would hire her. Her father is the mayor.

She looks thoughtful for a moment, while my stomach grumbles.

Her phone buzzes in her jeans pocket. After glancing at it, she pushes off the locker. “Well, anyway, let’s go eat.”

“Do you want me to recommend you for babysitting gigs?” I offer.

“Huh?” She looks at me as if we didn’t just talk about jobs. “Oh, no. That’s okay.”

It’s official: I’m walking into a trap. Before I couldn’t wait to get to the cafeteria because I’m hungry, but now I’m thinking I’ll skip it.

All becomes clear as we turn the corner to the cafeteria. There it is. A huge sign on the back wall.

Marian starts to cheer as Neil, Rob, Jan, and Julia join her.

I am going to straight up murder each and every one of them.

And what a surprise, it’s Rob’s loud mouth that kicks them off. “Happy birthday to you …”

I hide my face in my hands as one by one, my fellow classmates in the cafeteria join them, like people who feel obligated at restaurants when someone has a birthday.

This morning, Marian gave me a birthday muffin and a very cute beaded bracelet, so I thought that was it. But clearly, I’m not so lucky.

While it’s a wonderful, sweet gesture, everybody and I mean everybody in the cafeteria is looking at me. I try as discreetly as possible to walk over to the table, even though every fiber in my body is telling me to run out of the building and head to Canada.