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I need to be close by so I can keep up with physio and the gym. “Stupid knee,” I mutter, tossing a few bags on the floor and my purse on top of the kitchen table. After a few hours of bussing around the neighbourhood, my knee is throbbing again, needing an icepack and elevation.
    Kicking off my shoes crankily, I hear Court calling me out.
    “I take it from your mood, Rainbow Bright, that things didn’t go well at the interviews?” I walk into the living room with its two-toned grey walls, where Court is sitting at our shared desk with her MacBook open. She’s obviously working on some kind of film as I see Filmora is open and loaded with her current project.
    I throw myself into the oversized cream armchair, swinging my legs over the side so I can nestle into the puffy cushion and sulk while I tell her about my job woes.
    “Well, did you get something or what?” she asks.
    “Nah,” I sigh. “I didn’t have enough experience to work in a kitchen as a prep staff or line cook, or even to be a hostess, according to Mr. Smythe. He wouldn’t even entertain the idea of training me, or giving me a chance. Which totally pisses me off, despite me knowing these weren’t the best jobs for my knee, but I’m getting desperate. And, I mean, why did he even call me in for an interview? You saw my friggin’ resume, asshole. But I guess he might have seen me limping a bit when I walked in. I decided to walk the five blocks for exercise. Apparently that was a bad idea…”
    “That’s shitty, Els. I’m sorry. At least he wasn’t some creep like at the last place.”
    “Funny you should say that. I was thinking along the same lines at first, but then I kinda started to get that pervy-old-man feeling when he started asking me about all the ways I knew to cook eggs. As I told him each way I knew, he kept looking at my tits, especially when he’d interrupt to tell me how much he loved yolks.” I shudder at the memory.
    “Ew, that’s so wrong,” she laughs, “funny. But so, so wrong.”
    “Gah, thinking about it makes me feel dirty. I need a shower”
    “Maybe you oughta report him to the campus paper, the Varsity, so they won’t run his ads anymore. Sounds like he could be some old dirty bastard looking for some university hottie to help fill his nightly spank bank,” she jokes, but I cringe at how close she might be.
    “Yeah. I probably should.” I stand and move over to her computer, looking at the screen then down over her notes. Leaning over, I swat her hand off the trackpad and click a few options on the still picture she has up, the one she’s been messing with the whole time we talked. “There. You need to click on the hamburger, then click the top of the still so you can tweak the angles.”
    “Bugger, I’ve been on this one forever trying to figure it out. You are a good girl,” she says, reaching for the notes app on her iPad. “I need to write those steps down. This program is a trip to use.”
    “I promise it’s easier than iMovie, you just have to play around with it. Let me shower then I can put my knee up and help you while you help me make a plan,” I sigh, grabbing my stuff from the kitchen.
    “Okay, hurry up, ’cause I might have a job you’d be perfect for,” Court calls out.
    “Oh, yeah?”
    “Yes, I talked to Erica today. She has a great idea.”
    “Okay. As long as it doesn’t involve eggs or selling myself on a corner, I’ll consider anything in between.”
    “Well, this job will guarantee to keep you in school and in the green.”
    “Okay, now I’m intrigued. Let me go put my stuff away, I’ll shower after.” I scoop up my bags from the floor, then head down the hall to my room. I toss it all back on the floor, too excited to hear about the job that Erica, Courtney’s sister, might help me get.
    *
    “No way! Court. There is absolutely no way I can do that.”
    “Ellie, listen. You need a job and Erica had the best paying job all through university. I think it’s