“Well, yeah, because it has to do with you.”

Now Ahuva is dying of curiosity and confusion. “Tell me, I promise I won’t get upset or anything.”

So I tell her.

“That’s what you were so worried about?!” She is incredulous. “Of course we’re being friends forever, do you think I can stand to lose you?”

I’m so relieved. A tiny worm of doubt crawls its way into my heart but I brush it away.

All is good in my world. For now.

I was so naive. Who cares about losing a friend when I might get cancer. I didn’t know then how much scarier life could get.

As soon as I get to school I take the hundred dollar bill nestled in my pocket and jam it into the nearest pushke. “Tzedakah tatzil mimaves.” I’m safe. At least for now.

Now that I’m somewhat back to normal I go over to Chavala and schmooze.

During recess I call Ahuva from the office phone. She says she has a virus. I wish her a refuah sheleimah and savor the ordinariness.

“Perela!” Shaindy squeals from down the hall. “You must come join our cookie party. Sara Dina bakes the best triple chocolate fudge!”

I smile and save my response until I’m halfway to the 10B classroom. When I reach it Shaindy gives me a hug. We’re not that close but that’s Shaindy. “I didn’t see you since yesterday!” she exclaims.

The cookies are sweet and delicious. If only life would taste like this. Time to get back to class.

Rattle rattle rattle goes my heart in my rib cage. Deep breath in, count to three, deep breath out. Hope against hope that my heart will settle down, but no, rattle rattle goes my heart.

I can’t sit still when I’m feeling so anxious. I slump on my desk and put my head down, then I sit up abruptly. Tap, tap goes my foot on the floor. I drum on my desk and bite the eraser off my pencil. Finally, I ask to go to the bathroom.

I walk along the hallway and ask Hashem to take away this horrible, all-encompassing feeling that is torturing me.

It’s the worst, I decide, when I can’t stop feeling panicky and it’s for no reason at all. I can’t identify any specific fear. I’m not even feeling afraid of fainting or getting sick. I’m just feeling anxious.

I don’t yet realize that whichever particular anxiety is bothering me at the moment is always the worst.

I walk over the gleaming tiled bathroom floor as if the cure for me is hiding somewhere there. It’s not, I discover. There’s a row of stalls, a row of sinks, and a few crumpled paper towels.

I hide in one of the stalls and start bawling before I can stop myself.

It’s ten minutes later and I have to get back to class. The classroom looms ahead of me before I am ready to enter. My eyes are red-rimmed and I don’t even feel better.

to be continued…

(Originally featured in Mishpacha Jr., Issue 953)