Devora looks hurt. Whoops, I hadn’t realized she was still standing there

“Heyyy! You two are joining us in choir?”

It’s less than ten seconds since Baylee and I have arrived at our first choir rehearsal, and our presence has been officially spotted.

“Yup. We heard you guys are having so much fun, we got FOMO,” Baylee jokes.

Shira Jacoby rolls her eyes. “Hope you’re not disappointed then. It’s not that much fun listening to Devora and Chan try shushing the ninth graders every two seconds.”

There are only a handful of 12th graders in choir. The others, Faigy, Adina, and Tova, are pretty quiet. They seem happy that we’ve joined, as if our presence makes it somehow less nerdy for a 12th grader to be in choir.

At least some people are happy about this arrangement.

Devora bustles over. “Okay, here are the songs we’re using, you know them all, right?” She hands us a sheaf of papers with the words. I look through them, some medley of Avinu Malkeinus, Uri Davidi’s “Tefillah Sheli,” and an English song.

“Oooh, I love this song,” Baylee bubbles, pointing at the English words of “Heroes.” “Aren’t they great, Rena?”

I shrug. “Yeah, but I mean, they’re kind of typical, we did that one in camp this past summer.”

Devora looks hurt. Whoops, I hadn’t realized she was still standing there.