I had been put on probation and was given a list of places where I could volunteer in order to “better the community.” My probation officer, Mr. Cox (go ahead and laugh, I did) thought the animal shelter would be a good fit.

“Since you’re not exactly a people person,” he had told me. And he was right. I wasn’t fond of people. Not even the ones I spent time around.

But I liked animals. Always had.

Animals didn’t hurt you. They loved unconditionally. They gave you their heart without expecting anything in return.

I appreciated that.

Erin didn’t push me. She had quickly learned that pushing didn’t get her anywhere with me. This wasn’t the first dog she had tried to foist on me. But this was the first time I had considered taking her up on the suggestion. Murphy, the furry critter in question, pushed his head into my hand, a silent order for me to continue my administrations. I curled my hand into a fist, refusing myself the brief happiness.

Erin rubbed Murphy’s head and his tongue lolled out of his mouth. If I had a heart, he would have made it melt.

“Come on boy, let’s get you back in the cage,” I said, annoyed by Erin’s presence.

“No, don’t put him back yet. He needs more exercise. I just wanted to check on him. You know he’s been here for three months already,” Erin said, not looking at me, her focus on the dog at my feet.

My stomach clenched. “Yeah, I knew that,” I said shortly. I also knew that funding for the shelter was bare bones. Space was limited. And with new animals coming in every day, there was only one thing left to do when dogs and cats weren’t adopted.

“We’re going to need his cage pretty soon,” Erin said, her eyes soft as she watched Murphy bound across the enclosed yard to chase a squirrel.

He had been brought in as a stray. No one ever came to claim him. He’d been tossed aside. Forgotten.

Murphy and I were a lot alike.

The gigantic dog ran back to my side and sat on the ground, pressing himself into my legs, nudging my hand again. I couldn’t help but curl my fingers into the fur at the back of his head.

Erin looked at the two of us. “Just thought you should know,” she said, giving me a sad smile. She gave Murphy a treat and then left us alone.

I looked down at the dog munching happily, unaware of his fate. He had no idea that in a matter of months, weeks maybe, he’d be given an injection to make him go to sleep and he’d never wake up.

A sick part of me was jealous of him. Of his obliviousness. If only I could slip away quietly…ignorantly.

I clipped the leash onto his collar and walked him back to his cage, closing him inside without another glance.

I couldn’t look at him anymore.

Because it hurt.

And I didn’t like hurting.

“You wanna go swimming? It’s going to be in the nineties today,” Dania asked from her perch on top of the counter at JAC’s. I was due to get off in an hour and had planned to go home and finish my college paperwork.

I had hemmed and hawed over the folder that was hidden in my bedside drawer. It was stupid of me to think a few college classes would miraculously make this shit life all better.

But I had been given a taste of something I thought I could never have. At that made it downright irresistible.

What would one class hurt? If it sucked, I could chalk it up to experience and never have to think about it again.

I was prepared to fail. It’s what I did best after all.

Though what if I didn’t fail? What if I did something right, finally? The possibility of succeeding was almost more terrifying than the familiarity of failure.

But the fact that I was thinking about it all indicated a huge shift in my outlook.

I couldn’t pin point the cause of my change. Whether it was a gradual realization or lightning bolt awareness that I wanted something more. I had no idea. But I could remember with vivid clarity, the day it had happened.

I was waiting for Dania after her first prenatal appointment at the free clinic three months ago. I was still hung over from my bender the night before. I had gotten wasted and ended up sleeping with Lyle Katz, a guy six years older than me and with a lot less prospects. I had kicked him out and proceeded to empty my stomach into the toilet.

Two hours later I was driving Dania downtown while she teased me about taking my shirt off at the party. I was notorious for doing dumb crap when I was drunk, so the news was no surprise. I listened to her tell the story of my craziness with an encroaching sense of embarrassment.

Dania described a pathetic, nasty, and downright loathsome person who got into a fight and hooked up with some dude who had come to the party with his girlfriend.

That person was me. And I hated it.

Dania had gone back to get checked out and I had been sitting in the waiting room, trying not to be mortified by the things I had done the previous night and thumbing through a magazine ten years old. Something had made me look up and take in the room around me.

It was depressing.

These were people just as stuck in their destructive patterns as I was.

Underage moms. White trash. Meth addicts. The tired and useless.

And I was one of them. I had allowed myself to be.

I had been going through the motions for so long. With no self-respect and little to no pride. Looking at these people, so much like me, everything inside me screamed at me in realization. Life sucked. I was tired of life sucking. I was sick of being okay with my life sucking.

Something had sunk in deep. At the next visit I found the brochure for the community college and while it hadn’t been an “aha” light bulb moment. A tiny, dim flame had been lit and it had been there ever since.

Sure everything else in my life tried to overshadow it. But it was there. Slowly burning. Just waiting for me to allow it to grow.

And looking at my best friend, with her ever growing belly and good looks that became more tired and haggard every day, I could admit that I was starting to get scared that this was all there was to my life.

This was it.

The end.

How sad was that?

“I’m pretty beat,” I said lamely. Dania hopped off the counter, grabbing a candy bar and unwrapped it.

“I’m beginning to think you have a vitamin deficiency or something. You’re always tired. You used to be so much fun, Ells. You kind of suck lately,” Dania pouted, taking a bite out of her Hershey bar. She grabbed a bag of jalapeno chips and opened them as well.

“Yuck!” I made a face. Dania shrugged, taking a bite of chocolate and then popping a chip in her mouth.

“Cravings. They’re weird,” she remarked breezily. I wished I could get a read on what she thought about her pregnancy. You would think her constant drinking and partying would be answer enough.

But there were moments when I almost thought she cared. That she even looked forward to bringing that new life into the world.

She kept her prenatal appointments. She went every month. And I knew she still took the vitamins she had been prescribed. Once I had even caught her looking at baby clothes online.

Though when I tried to bring up what her plan was for after the baby was born, whether she’d keep it or give it up for adoption, she absolutely refused to discuss it.

I didn’t understand Dania. I don’t think I ever did.

“So you’re coming. One of us has to show off the body they still have. And Reggie’s thunder thighs are enough to make my eyes bleed. Plus, Shane’s been bugging the shit out of me to get you to come,” Dania said dismissively.

I snorted. That so was not going to happen this side of sanity.

I popped my bubble gum and wiped some sweat off my brow. The air conditioner had been on the fritz for the past two weeks and Jeb had yet to call a repairman. He was such a cheapskate. Right down to his shiny pants and bad toupee. He was the walking, talking stereotype of a weaselly, middle-aged shop owner.