I swear, this town is a paradox. While the rest of the country struggles with teacher shortages, our tiny town is overflowing with resources, or rather, bureaucracy. And teachers like me, the ones from the wrong side of the tracks, without the right last names or deep pockets? Well, we’re left scrambling to survive. Caught in the crossfire of public school closures while state-of-the-art campuses arise, perfectly tailored for the ultra-wealthy parents who get to handpick who educates their children.

In the meantime, I’ve been hustling, tutoring kids here-and-there, and teaching online classes to anyone who clicks ‘Join.’ But here-and-there money isn’t enough. I need the security of a consistent paycheck. I need to stop agonizing over every expense and get back to enjoying the small comforts of life without guilt or anxiety.

Every tutoring session I book feels like a small victory, but I know these gigs aren’t sustainable. I need something reliable, something that offers not just income but a future.

Still, if I’ve learned anything from my misfortune, it’s that being in this tight spot has forced me to become more resourceful and resilient. So, I remain hopeful, trusting that despite my setback, I will bounce back.

And it’s easy for me to believe this because I’ve got my girls—my anchors, my sounding boards, and sometimes my brutally honest critics.

Izzy Waylen Hernandez, Serena Ross, and Kiera Hawkins are my best friends, the ones who’ve been there through every twist and turn of my life. We grew up together, leaned on each other, and somehow, despite our wildly different lives, remained close.

Today, we’re all gathered at Izzy’s floral shop, helping her prep for the grand opening of her second location. Izzy meticulously arranges white peonies for the perfect social media post, while Serena, the hotshot journalist, sips an iced coffee like she doesn’t have a care in the world, and Kiera stuffs reminder invitations into envelopes, all the while keeping an eye on her phone, just in case, her nanny calls.

The shop is quiet except for the rustle of paper and the occasional clink of ice against Serena’s cup until Izzy finally snaps the perfect shot, then whirls on me with fiery indignation.

“This is ridiculous, Kerry! Absolutely ridiculous! There’s no way those rich pricks should be allowed to dictate who stays and who goes. They fired the best teachers this town has to offer, you included!”

“It’s straight-up bullshit,” Serena cuts in, leaning against the counter with a freshly manicured hand propping up her head. “You’re the Beyoncé of teachers. It’s a crime to let you go.”

“It’s blasphemy!” Kiera interjects, crossing her arms over her chest. “Complete disrespect for everything you’ve worked for, everything our town stands for—being kind and good. Kerry, you deserve better. So much better.”