Chapter 1 Grassroots

I slide the broken door open and step inside the vibrantly painted room. Despite the splashes of yellow and the intent to make this place seem warm and welcoming, it's a horrible place to be.

"Appointment for Daniela Rodriguez." I rest against the desk and smile.

The secretary swirls around in her chair, gives me an unimpressed frown, and then turns to the computer screen. She clicks on something and taps her fingernails against the plastic desk.

"Take a seat, Mrs. Alejandrowill see you soon."

"Thank you." I tug on a smile.

I glance over my shoulder and groan-are you freaking kidding me?

The only seat available is wedged between a man who smells like he's never seen a bar of soap in his life and an elderly woman moaning about something her doctor said.

Can the world swallow me already?

As I approach them, the door to Mrs. Holand's office opens, and I sigh.

"Daniela Rodriguez," she calls.

I walk into the room and take a seat opposite her. She frowns at the computer while I place my bag beside my feet.

Her dead brown eyes shift from the computer to me, and my stomach knots, but I remain smiling, even though it's forced.

She shakes her head. "We're operating on a tight deadline, Justina. Wait, I'm sorry, Daniela. If you don't find employment soon, you'll join our work program."

"Can you find me something in administration?"

"You have a choice of gardening or a charity op shop. To avoid this, you need to apply for more jobs. The other young people who come here apply for sixty jobs per month. Eliane-" Her eyes glance at the computer. "Daniela, you don't apply yourself enough. I want you to apply for more jobs from different websites."

"I use a range of websites: Facebook, Seek, Indeed, Job Spot, and company websites. Like you said, I'm unemployable because I don't have experience in anything."

"Everyone is employable," she snaps. "How about Rooted? Another client of mine got a job from that website yesterday."

"Rooted? That's like Craigslist, though." I'm all for working, but I'd rather not end up in an unmarked grave somewhere in the desert.

"You're being narrow-minded and unimaginative. You need a job, anything you can get, and Rooted will help you."

"I'm sorry. I'll try that website." If I end up in an unmarked grave, it'll beat coming here every week.

"I'll book an appointment for next week to check on your progress."

"Thank you, I'll see you then."

"Goodbye, Pamela, and have a good rest of your week."

"Sure, I'll do that." I grab my bag and hurry out.

The bright yellow wall makes me want to smash my head against it, but instead, I slide the door open and wander outside.

The warm sun beats down and burns my pale skin, but I should be grateful because I might end up a sex slave to a serial killer, and this could be the last time I experience this feeling.

"This sucks," I grumble.

I press the unlock button on my keys and slip into the front seat of my car.

Yes, things could be worse, but it doesn't stop me from banging my head against the steering wheel.

"Why is this so hard? How am I not good enough for McDonald's?"

Shaking my head, I straighten up and press the key into the ignition. The car rumbles, and I drive home.

"How's the job search going?" Mum takes a seat at the end of my bed.

"It's eh." I shrug. "I've applied to thirteen jobs to be a nanny. There's one for a gardener, but I'm not sure because I have a graveyard of succulents in the bathroom."

"Gardening isn't that hard, easier than looking after children, especially if they're like your little cousins." She rolls her eyes. "I'm surprised they aren't in daycare full-time."

"Yeah, that's true! I'll submit my resume for the gardening position. Who knows, it could be easy work that only requires a few weeds pulled out." I click on the submit button and move on to the next page.

"If they ask you to take your clothes off, come straight home!"

My mouth drops and my hands shake.

"What are you talking about? I just submitted my resume."

"Maya's daughter applied for a cleaning position via Rooted, and the older gentleman wanted her to clean topless. He also wanted her to clean his...you know, just be careful out there."

"I told Mrs. Alejandro this website is like Craigslist, and all she said was, 'You're being narrow-minded,' and now I have no idea what I'm walking into."

"Your father would pay you to weed our garden before that ever happens."

"Dad would send me back to university before he hires me to pull weeds out."

"We love you so much, and that's why we want the best for you."

"That doesn't mean university is the best thing for me."

"What do you want?"

"Freedom to explore the world."

"A university degree would help you accomplish that goal."

"I understand, but I can't do it. Accounting doesn't make sense, and it won't make me happy."

"Daniela, please."

"I love you both, but please let me work things out for myself."

"Okay." She nods. "I'm making chicken curry for dinner. Are you in or out?"

"Always in for dinner! I love your cooking."

"I'll start on dinner. Good luck with the job hunting." Mum pats my knee.

"I need all the luck I can get! Remember, I'm unemployable."

"You're not-don't listen to her!" she grumbles.

My gaze wanders back to the screen, and I gasp.

"Please pray for me."

I click on the unread email and wait for the screen to load.

"Holy shit." My eyes go wide.

"What is it? Did you get an interview?"

"They want to interview me for the gardening job," I squeal.

"Ah," she screams, "that's amazing news!"

"They want to see me tomorrow, bright and early. Even if I get laughed off the property, I can sense my luck is changing."

"See, you're employable."

"Thanks, Mum."

"I'll make a pot roast to celebrate the good news."

"Yay!" I close my laptop and tackle her in a hug.

"Maybe applying for jobs on Rooted was a good idea."

"We'll see, they might want me to do it in the nude." I laugh.

"Don't say that! We want good things for you."

"Yes, because I want to stand in the middle of Europe enjoying my youth, not stressing about jobs."

"Keep applying and I'll get cooking."

"Shall do." I smile.

Mum leaves the room, and I grab my laptop and move to the desk. I open it up and send a short email thanking them for the opportunity and accepting the interview for tomorrow.

Once the email is sent, I flop onto the bed and grin. By tomorrow afternoon, I could be employed or dumped in a ditch.