“You can have my part. Take it along with everything else in my life. See if that makes you happy”

It’s three days until production and the school is buzzing. Costumes, props, and girls fly through the hallways, music blares from practice rooms, and class is practically nonexistent.

We have a full morning off for practice, and I should be at the play run-through, but I need a break.

I wander around, noise and fun and laughter bouncing over and around me. I feel detached, like I’m not part of all this. Why not? I’m in play, I’m in choir, I’m in 12th grade and should be on top of the world. Like Baylee, who’s sitting in the auditorium, watching every scene and reveling in the privilege of being in play, finally.

I turn the corner and suddenly realize I’m not alone: Chani Schwartz is sitting on a windowsill, hunched over her knees, looking morose.

“What are you doing up here?” I ask. “I mean, don’t they need you at the run-through?”

“Nah, there are a few scenes till I come on,” she says. Her voice is flat. “Anyway, it gets intense, you know what I mean? I needed a break.”

No, I don’t know what she means. “Intense?” I try, unsuccessfully, to keep the bitterness from my voice. “Some people would give anything to have your part.”

Something about my words is so familiar… it sounds like someone, something I’ve heard recently. What?

Chani snorts. “You can have my part. Take it along with everything else in my life. See if that makes you happy.”

Everything else in her life… I suddenly remember the rumors earlier this year, something about Chani’s parents, a sibling off the derech, other stuff going on at home.