Don't own it, yo. Next installment... this is just fun to write sometimes. So let me know what you think, okay?

Depression is funny.

Hah...what an oxymoron. Good going, real clever, whatever.

I don't mean it's laugh out loud funny. It's just odd. I know it's classified as a constant, persistent feeling of extreme sadness, helplessness, guilt, blah, blah, blah. But really, one day you can wish you were dead, and the next day you can feel almost normal. It's like, the sadness is always there, but sometimes it goes away to hide under your skin, and you're never sure when it's going to come back, just that it will.

And after awhile, you sort of become used to it. Even...miss it. Because it becomes normalcy. It becomes what you know. And at least you know how to deal with that. I can't deal with feeling normal these days, can't deal with wondering, waiting for that same feeling to creep back in.

Sometimes I think I'd do anything to stop it.

Almost anything, I thought, staring at the beer leftover from Sean's last party. Bottom shelf, left hand side, just sitting there, taking up space, waiting for someone to come claim it.

Not me.

I'll never be like my mom.

I should take those damn cans and pour them out. Fill the space with juice, or something.

Only, I don't think I can afford that.

I think that's when it hit me. I needed a job. And bad.

Rent was due soon, and aside from the beer, there wasn't much in the fridge. Or the cupboards for that matter.

With a sigh, I shut the refrigerator door. I'd have to wait for lunch to eat.

That thought only sent me scurrying off to find the money left from the weekend, abandoned in some pants pocket or the bottom of my purse. I made a decision, digging through my bag and coming up with five dollars, that after school, I was getting a job.

I'd scour the paper for as long as it took, to find anything.

...if I could find a paper. Did we even get one?

"I hate Mondays," I announced to the empty living room, grabbing my school bag and heaving a sigh.

I spent most of my lunch period sitting alone in the library, circling ads I thought I could do. Waitress, ugh, dishwasher, double ugh, counter help, cashier, things like that. Not the best jobs in the world, jobs I would most likely hate more than math homework, but jobs that I could do. Jobs that would hopefully pay the rent.

By the time school let out, I was psyched up enough to believe I stood a chance of getting some job...any job. No matter how menial.

Then I realized, I had no way to get to any of the places offering employment, to even fill out an application.

What a wonderful end to things, eh?

With a sigh, I sat down on the steps outside of school, resting my elbows on my knees and propping my head up, probably looking pathetic.

"Just my luck," I grumbled.

"What is?" said a voice from behind me.

I looked back to see Craig towering over me, messenger bag over one shoulder, hair in disarray.

"Oh," I said, shrugging, "Just, I'm looking for a job...only I've got no way to get anywhere to get one."

Then it hit me.

"Wait... you're sixteen... Joey owns a dealership...you have to have a car," I said, pleading with him. "Do you have a car?"

"Well..." he looked uncertain, scuffing the toe of his sneaker on the ground.

"Please?" I gave him my best puppy eyes. "Pretty please?"

I know, begging is seriously lame. Also, sometimes, necessary.

Five minutes later I stood in the parking lot, Craig standing next to me, keys dangling from his fingers.

"It's not much," he apologized. "But it's got a motor, and four wheels, and it plays music."

I shrugged. "A car's a car."

"Okay," he said, "hop in, but you owe me."

I stopped in my tracks, eyeing him warily. "What?"

He paused too, stroking his chin to emphasize thought. "Company for dinner?"

I stared at him for a moment longer. "Acceptable."

"Get in," he said, grinning as he slid behind the wheel of the battered old pickup truck.

I went around to the other side, and stepped up. To my surprise, the inside was clean, the bench seat giving a lived in, but not run down look, it's faded fabric soft beneath me. The CD player had clearly been installed recently, it clashed against the faded grey of the dashboard.

"Not bad," I shrugged.

He smiled like it was a compliment, and flipped down my visor. "Lady's choice."

I glanced at the CD organizer strapped there, and started pulling CD"s out to see what kind of music Craig had, as he pulled out of the lot.

"Ouh!" I almost squealed, "I'm so in an Our Lady Peace mood."

"You know, music makes you act like a...girl," Craig said, glancing over at me.

"Um, thanks." I glared at him.

"I meant to say 'nice choice'," he amended.

"Good," I replied, putting the CD in.

We were halfway toward the mall when I realized I was getting along with my best friend's ex boyfriend, the school player, singing "All For You", and actually enjoying myself.

Whatever.

Craig parked at the main entrance, put the truck in park, and turned to me. "You have a cell phone?"

"Yeah."

One I owe money on. One in danger of being shut off.

"Call me when you're done, I'll be around the mall, okay?" he told me.

"I don't have your number," I said, climbing out and locking my door behind me.

I met him on the other side.

"Program it in now," he said, shrugging.

I complied, pulling my phone out of my purse, and punching in the numbers as he slowly spoke them to me. "Craig...cell...got it."

We walked to the front entrance of the mall, plethora of shops and fast food joints. As he held open the door, I graced him with a rare, genuine smile.

"Thanks," I told him, and raced off without waiting for a reply.

I was a girl on a mission.

"Okay, listen, Ellie is it? Ellie...I've got about a dozen girls applying for this job, guys too, and they all want it just as bad...why should I pick you over them?"

The girl in front of me was in her late twenties, blonde and thin, her nails done perfectly as they danced across the application, picked up a pen and wrote something down here or there. Her eyes were clear blue, and screamed 'don't bullshit me'. I could tell she'd had a long day.

I sighed. "Okay, listen, I'll drop the good girl act, you can probably tell from my clothes and makeup, I'm not the kind of girl a lot of people want working for them. I've been almost everywhere in this mall and gotten the same stare from everyone. 'Your kind need not apply', that sort of thing. But the fact is, I need this job, and I want this job. Under the makeup, I'm a lot like those girls, probably more qualified, too. I read more often than I sleep. I'm a hard worker, I don't give up, and I'm not here to read magazines while people shop. I'll give you one hundred percent, everyday."

I paused, taking a deep breath. I was almost shaking. I'd been at it for almost three hours, I was tired and frustrated.

Amanda, the manager with perfect hair and nails, smiled, showing her perfect teeth.

"Perfect."

"Huh?" I said. "I mean, excuse me?"

"You're hired!" she said, standing up.

Bewildered, I stood up, too. "I...am?"

"You're refreshing," she said. "You didn't give me the same rehearsed answer the last three did. Ew."

I felt the beginnings of a smile taking place on my face.

"Can you start Thursday?" she asked, holding out her hand.

I grabbed it, shaking it firmly. "I so can. Thank you."

"Of course," she said, "you'll have to wear blue jeans and the store T-shirt, it's company policy."

"That's fine," I said, nodding. "Thank you!"

"No problem," she told me, smiling. "Just be here at four on Thursday, we'll get you all set up then, okay?"

"Okay," I agreed, then opened my mouth to say something else.

"You're welcome," Amanda smiled, beating me to the point.

I grinned again.

Mission accomplished!

Safely out of the small store, I dialed Craig.

"Yo," he answered.

"I got a job!" I squealed, aware that I was, again, sounding like a girl.

"That's great!" he said, sounding genuinely happy for me. "Where?"

"The little bookstore by the coffee shop?" I said, not sure if he knew of it.

"Oh, Book Nook?" he asked, and I could hear plastic rustling. "Thanks, man."

"Yeah," I said. "Where are you? I'll meet you."

"Um," he said, and there was more rustling. "I'm jsut leaving a store. I'll meet you at the food court?"

"Okay," I said, "Bye."

"Later."

I hung up and walked to the food court, feeling better than I had in a while. I spotted Craig sitting at a table, a plastic bag on the table before him, and slid into the seat across from him.

"Whatcha got?" I asked, trying to peek into the bag.

He laughed, and smacked my hand away. "You're happy."

"Yeah, well, I can afford to live in my apartment now, maybe," I said, thinking. "Or, I will be soon."

He looked back at me for a moment. "That's good, El."

"So, what did you get?" I asked, looking at the bag.

"I got Angie a stuffed bear, okay?" he said begrudgingly. "She's at her grandma's right now, and I kinda wanted her to have something cool to come back to."

I furrowed my brow. "That's sweet."

"Yeah...don't look so surprised," he said drily, "I'm not always an ass."

"I know," I said, shrugging, and leaning back in my chair. "After all, you drove me here."

He looked at me for a moment.

"Do you like Chinese?"