I look up to find Ma and my older sisters sharing meaningful glances. The “Naomi is being overly sensitive and irrational” look

I

tuck the sheet under my bed and smooth the comforter with my hands until it’s perfectly straight. I straighten and watch Faiga scrubbing the toothpaste off the mirror and Zeesy sweeping the floor furiously, like somehow faster strokes will result in a cleaner floor. Debbi is straightening her hair, of all things, and Yaeli and Shan, our resident artists, are hanging up a gorgeous banner with the words “Welcome to Our Bunk House” scrawled across.

Tell me it’s Visiting Day without telling me it’s Visiting Day.

I turn around just in time to find Debbi casually perching on the edge of my bed while she ties her shoes.

I remind myself to breathe, but it’s hard. “Debbi,” I say through gritted teeth, “I just spent TWO YEARS straightening that comforter.”

Debbi smirks. “Oh, this comforter?” She leans back, like she’s about to lie down. I shriek and she cracks up.

Grabbing her hands, I pull her to a standing position. Still laughing, she remakes my bed. “Sorry about that, Sir, Captain Sir.”

I raise my eyebrows at her and smooth down my ribbed mauve skirt. “Well, if you want to explain to Morah Taub why my bed is unmade….”

She gasps dramatically. “Heaven forfend!”

We crack up because Rabbi Cooper always says that in Chumash class, and no one really knows what it means.