She had swung by earlier to pick up her new uniform, which looked a lot like her old uniform except it was orange and black striped instead of pink and white. She waved at friends as she walked toward the cart storage area. Martha was there with a clipboard. “I’m sorry, Candace,” she said again. “It’s okay,” Candace muttered. It was a lie. It wasn’t okay with her at all, but what good would it have done to say that? No use in both of them starting the evening off miserable. “You’ll be selling packets of candy corn,” Martha said. “They’re two dollars each.” Candace nodded. At least it wasn’t cotton candy. She wasn’t sure if she could have taken that. “You’ll be on cart five,” Martha said, gesturing to it. The same cart she had had all summer. There was something particularly fitting about that. Candace walked up to the cart and eyed it suspiciously. “Hello, old friend.” As if in response, the cart whirred suddenly to life. The food carts at The Zone were totally automated.
