Ipop the last fry into my mouth and give a contented sigh. Mommy raises an eyebrow. “Got your appetite back, I see,” she says and we both giggle, although mine is somewhat of the ashamed variety.
“Well, I’ve decided battered fries are my new favorite food. Plus, these dipping sauces are heavenly.”
Mommy sips her latte. “Yes, the food here is incredible. Expensive, but incredible.”
I tilt my head. “Like everything else in Stonesworth.”
Mommy laughs and then puts her mug down. “So, tell me again, eight other girls really got your backpack just because Tamara complimented you on it?”
I nod, for some reason enjoying the attention. “Insane, no?”
Mommy inhales sharply. “Insane, yes. That girl sounds a bit too powerful for her own good.”
I shrug, uneasy. “I guess so.”
Mommy tilts her head, studying me through half-lidded eyes. “So, are you her friend?”
I squint back, suddenly uncomfortable. “I’m not sure ‘friend’ is the right word…”
The waitress comes over then with an offer for dessert. Mommy orders two giant cookies and winks at me.
****
After dinner, the air is cooler, and I shiver as we walk down the Lane together.
“So, peanut. How do you feel the move is going in general?”
Zipping up my hoodie, I look sideways at Mommy. She’s looking around placidly, as if she has not a care in the world, but I know her question is pointed. I also know there’s no getting out of answering.
“It’s going really well,” I say enthusiastically.
“Baruch Hashem,” Mommy adds.
“Baruch Hashem,” I agree.
“And how is tenth grade going for Rus and Shiri back in good ‘ol Brownsfeld?”
I shrug. “Same old. Same Rabbi Jacobs, same Coach Kim.”
“It’s not the same though… you’re not there.”
I shrug again. “I guess not.”
A group of girls stroll past, laughing loudly. I squint, trying to see if I recognize them. Is that Bina? But then Tamara would be there too. It must not be her. I crane my neck, trying to get a better view
“Rachel Ahuva?”
I glance around, Mommy has stopped walking and is staring at me.
I blush, mortified. “Sorry, Mommy, were you saying something?”
Mommy is quiet and then brushes past it. “Just that Simchi asked if you can come to his back-to-school night next week.”
“Me?” I’m genuinely surprised.
Mommy drapes her arm around my shoulder and gives a squeeze. “Oh, please, it’s the least well-kept secret that you’re his favorite.”
We laugh, and I feel warm inside. Simchi’s just so sweet, and he’s been obsessed with SHIPS since we got here. Which I have to say, I’m very relieved about. I really like Stonesworth. And I’m glad that the reason we came here in the first place is still valid.
“Of course, I will! When is it?”
“Monday night.”
“I’ll be there,” I promise.

(Excerpted from Mishpacha Jr., Issue 726)