Tzivi wasn’t the writer, I thought. I glanced around the classroom. That left twenty-two other girls. Well, twenty-one because it wasn’t Penina

The note was tiny, tucked between my loose-leaf and desk. If it hadn’t been pink, I probably would never have even noticed it.

I pulled the folded paper out and opened it.

Dear Adina,

Are you and Penina twins? You’d think you were based on how much time you spend together. Seriously, there are other girls in this class. Why don’t you try talking to one of them?

Signed,

Someone who cares

Humph. Humph, humph. I pressed my fingers into the pink paper and squished it into a tiny ball. What? Who? Why? Was this note for real?

I opened it again.

The same words — black ink on pink paper stared up at me.

Someone who cares…

Sure didn’t sound like that.

“Hey!” a voice came from the front of the classroom.

I folded my fingers over the note and turned around. Tzivi Mandel stood at the front of the classroom, her knapsack slung over her back.

“What are you doing upstairs during lunch?” she asked.

“I… uh… I just came to get my water bottle,” I said.

She tossed her pony. “Oh, okay,” she said. “I just got to school.” I watched her walk to her desk and dump her knapsack on the floor. The pink note felt like fire in my hand. So at least I know Tzivi wasn’t the writer, I thought. I glanced around the classroom. That left twenty-two other girls. Well, twenty-one because it wasn’t Penina.

I pressed my lips together and headed out of the classroom.

I was going to the lunchroom and I was going to find out who wrote that note. If someone in my class was jealous of my friendship with Penina — because that’s what this note was all about, jealousy — then they should come straight out and tell me. Leaving notes is babyish and pathetic.

“Totally pathetic,” I said out loud when I sat down at the lunch table.

Penina turned to look at me.

“Whew, what happened to you up there?” she asked. “You look upset.”

I pressed the note onto the table.

“Look,” I said. “Just look at that.”

Penina reached for the note and she did look. The three girls sitting around her looked too.

“What? Who? Why?” they asked.

I shrugged. “Someone who’s jealous of us, obviously,” I said.

“Crazy jealous,” the girls said.

“Yeah, from ‘someone who cares,’” someone else said. “More like someone who needs major help.”

From across the table, Dina Brenner leaned in. “Come on,” she said. “Who wrote it?”

I rolled my eyes. “I don’t know,” I said. “But I’m gonna find out. ’Cuz leaving notes like that is pathetic and babyish.”

“Totally,” Dina said.

“Totally,” the girls sitting around her agreed.