I stand up, hyperaware that every eye in my class is upon me, and hobble toward Ma.

I brush my hair,  pull it into a fabulous velvet scrunchie, tug out some wisps, dab on some lip gloss and mascara, straighten my uniform, and decide resolutely that I’m not telling Debbi that Ma knows it was her phone.

Why stress the girl out?

School is dragging, as per usual. The biggest excitement is Faigy’s new haircut and Morah Weiner handing back the Chumash test.

Until Ma’s class. I’m hiding in the back, and have my notebook cracked open. I went to Target yesterday and invested in some high-quality colored pencils. I am now ready for some serious, hard-core doodling.

Ma comes in, the class gradually grows quiet, Ma takes attendance, and she begins to teach. I look around at my classmates. They’re really listening. It’s weird but also kind of cool. I cock my head to the side; should I start listening? What would that be like?

Ma bounces slightly on her sensible pumps, her arms gesticulating wildly. She’s so passionate, so invested. I almost listen then, but I spy Hindy Sandman looking at me, and I quickly burrow myself back into my doodles.

No need to get a reputation.

There’s a knock on the door, a quick sharp sound. Ma stops teaching, turns toward the door expectantly.

The secretary, Mrs. Rosenstein, is there. She comes toward Ma, whispering frantically.  And I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that something terrible has happened to someone I love. My heart drops into my stomach, beating so loudly, I’m sure they can hear it downstairs in ninth grade.

Ma’s face turns white and I’m sure it’s Ta. He’s had a heart attack. Okay, he’s only 50, but still. Or Bubby.

Ma’s fingers are clenching the edge of her desk so hard the veins on her hands are bulging.  And then she looks around and gestures to me.

I stand up, hyperaware that every eye in my class is upon me, and hobble toward Ma.

“Go,” she says. “Yocheved needs you at home.”

And I run.