"The school doesn’t exactly encourage vacation in Florida, but under the circumstances, we decided to make an exception”

I fold a smokey blue T-shirt into my suitcase and tuck a pair of gold flip-flops in beside it. Packing for Florida is fun but it’s also a stress. Plus, after my conversation with Goldie about how I’m a self-entitled brat, I’ve kinda lost my desire to go on the trip at all. Ma is annoyed at me, Goldie thinks I’m a terrible person, and Babby has probably figured out that I was complaining about her joining us. At least Effie still likes me.

I pour my favorite shampoos and face washes into the cute little travel set Ma had bought me for camp, and then I’m all done. We’re leaving tomorrow, right after school. I roll my shoulders, massage my aching leg, and head downstairs for some Isru Chag lunch.

“Who wants matzah?” Daddy calls, chuckling at his own joke.

Of course, some of the Martin men with no taste buds actually do want some, and they start pulling out cream cheese and jams.

Uh, no thank you. I make myself an omelet on whole wheat bread, slice up some veggies, and head out to the front stoop. I crunch away, not really seeing anything as I stare at the old evergreen across the street.

Why do I feel so sad? Pesach was amazing, I’m going to Florida, I even sewed myself an adorable beach cover-up. So what is my issue?

A moving truck roars onto the quiet street and I blink. The new family. I’d totally forgotten. Huh. I’m in a prime snooping location. I’ll just chew my last carrot stick really sloooowly.

A black minivan pulls up and just sits in the driveway of the brownstone. I wait but no one comes out. Okay, this carrot stick can only last so long.

I take a sip of my iced tea and crunch the ice cube until my teeth hurt.

Finally, at long last, the van door opens. Father, mother, one, two, three boys, and a tiny girl with pigtails. And there, last one out, is a girl my age.

Well then. She doesn’t look at all like I’d imagined her. Okay, I hadn’t spent much time imagining her, but if I had, this would not be it. She is wearing a black slinky skirt, silver glitter-y Toms, and a light-gray T-shirt. ’Kay, Toms aren’t currently having a moment, but that’s fine. Light brown hair pulled back in a braid, and I can’t see what color eyes she has. She just seems… small. Like very petite. Bird bones and all that. I suddenly feel very clunky and oversized. The family seems cute, the boys are running around on the tiny patch of grass in the front, and the little girl plops down on the front step and starts to howl. Mystery girl scoops her up and balances the toddler on her hip while swinging a—

My jaw drops.