Twenty minutes later, they were settled at a table outside of Holy Bagel, a spread of bagels and salads in front of them. ZeeZee kept trying to make conversation, but Sarah seemed more interested in eating. Or maybe she was just shy?

“ZeeZee! Hi! I didn’t know you were coming — whoa…”

Rusi and Miriam had just walked up to her table, and they were staring at Sarah, eyes bulging.

ZeeZee smiled confidently. “Hey guys. This is Sarah. Sarah, these are — um, chaveirot sheli.”

Sarah stared at them curiously. Rusi rocked nervously on her feet; Miriam gave a small nod and then quickly shifted her eyes away.

“I didn’t…” Rusi cleared her throat. “I didn’t realize you were busy. We’ll, uh, leave you two alone.”

“See you back in the dorm,” Miriam muttered, red-faced.

“Chamudot,” said Sarah calmly, as she wiped her mouth with a napkin. “Like my own granddaughters.”

“How old are your granddaughters?” asked ZeeZee eagerly. Somehow, she didn’t picture a tzedakah lady having grandchildren. They probably lived in a tiny, run-down apartment, with barely any food. Did their parents also collect for a living? Or maybe — her eyes gleamed — maybe they were really wealthy, and were begging their savta to come live with them, but she preferred to support herself in the way she knew how… like Lulu in All I Ask. Imagine if she were the one to reconcile Sarah with her family!

Hah, look at me! She giggled to herself. I’m, like, turning into a character in a book!

“Mrs. Edelman was looking for you,” Rusi said, when ZeeZee sat down next to her at dinner.

“She was?” ZeeZee frowned. “Does that mean she realized I skipped her class?”

Rusi smirked. “Um, I think that’s why she was looking for you.”

“Too bad, I was hoping she wouldn’t notice.” She sighed and then, with a cheerful shrug of her shoulders, dug into her vegetable soup. “I’m starved.”

Rusi was throwing her funny glances as she ate. After a few minutes, ZeeZee looked up. “What? Do I, like, have a soup mustache?”

Rusi blushed. “No, it’s nothing.”

ZeeZee raised her eyebrows, and went back to eating.

Rusi took a breath. “Just… it seemed like you had a big lunch.”

ZeeZee put her spoon down and laughed. “So that’s what’s bugging you. Just say it; I can handle blunt. ‘ZeeZee, going out to eat with a tzedakah lady is totally weird.’ ”

“That’s not what I was going to say.” Rusi looked down at the ring she was twisting around her finger. “Actually, when I saw you today… I was impressed. Like, really.” Her cheeks reddened. “ ’Cuz, you know, I realize you come from a rich family and everything, and sometimes it can seem like you don’t even notice—” She stopped, twisted her ring around a few more times, and then continued. “Anyway, the fact that you care enough to not only give tzedakah, but to actually take a schnorrer out to eat — that’s special, Zeez. Seriously.”

To her intense embarrassment, ZeeZee felt her face growing hot. “Thanks for the hesped,” she mumbled, “but I’m not dead yet,” and then hastily changed the subject. “So what’d I miss in Mrs. Edelman’s class, and what exactly did she say about me?”

Rusi caught her cue, and quickly started filling her in on the missed class, but ZeeZee was only half-listening. Inside, she was still squirming. Here Rusi had seen her as some tzadeikes, willing to go the extra mile to help the unfortunate — when really, ZeeZee had only been motivated by her desire to accomplish her self-imposed dare.

And now, she wondered: What kind of self-centered person did that make her?

Thursday was Chava’s late day at Shvilei; she taught her weekly haftarah lesson to the Alef class before dinner and the Beis and Gimmel classes after dinner. She was always exhausted by the end of the week and now, having just finished her final class, she made her way slowly down the hallway.

Ahead of her, there was a group of girls heading out as well, ZeeZee Keller’s bright head of hair among them. Chava hesitated. This afternoon had already been the second time ZeeZee had cut her class, but she didn’t like coming down hard on the girls so soon into the school year. At the same time, ZeeZee seemed like the type of girl who needed discipline.

Still wavering, Chava unconsciously picked up her pace until she was walking right behind the girls. Their conversation wafted toward her.

“Wonder what kind of cookies Mommy Hurwitz will have tonight,” ZeeZee was saying. “Her apple cinnamon buns last week were delish!”

“She didn’t do Cookie Thursday last week,” said Miriam. “Remember? That was the night of the teshuvah kenness.”

ZeeZee winked at Rusi, who was walking next to her. They both giggled.

“What’s so funny?” asked Miriam.

ZeeZee swung her ponytail over her shoulder. “Nothing. Just that there were a few of us who decided to skip the kenness, and go to Mommy H. instead for a private little Cookie Thursday. She’s so chilled; she really gets us, you know?”

Chava stopped in her tracks abruptly, letting the girls, who clearly hadn’t noticed her, move on. She felt cold inside. So that’s what happened last Thursday night? That’s why her teshuvah shiur had been half-empty? Because this new, young eim bayit had run a competing event?

Chava’s fist clenched around the sefer in her hand, her brain a jumble of rants. Someone ought to tell her! Playing Mrs. Cool and Popular at another teacher’s expense! Young upstart!

And drowning out all the other voices was an overriding voice of despair: How could she and her classes stand a chance against “Cookie Thursday?”

to be continued…

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 726)