And Mrs. Goldfein thinks I can be a mentor. A role model. Yeah, right

“Missed you in class yesterday.” Shana slides onto the bench beside me. “Everything okay?”

I smile vaguely. Last year, that wouldn’t have even been a question. But — wonder of wonders! — yesterday I took my first absence of the school year, and it was because I had my next infusion. Fourth one. Wow.

“Yeah, all good, baruch Hashem.” I prod my salad with a fork, trying to find the feta cheese. Shana looks curious. Maybe I can share this with her?

I take a breath. “I had my infusion yesterday.”

She looks blank. “Oh. Um, what’s that?”

I giggle, remind myself that this time last year my reaction would have been the same. “It’s a fancy way to take medication. I do it once a month. It’s through an IV,” I add.

Shana blinks. “Oh, wow. That’s… that must be hard.”

For a minute, I’m reminded of my conversation with Henny, four weeks ago. Henny’s in seminary now, and I’m almost a month into 12th grade. Time flies when I’m feeling good, I guess.

“It’s not so bad,” I say.

Shana takes a sip of juice. “Hey, did you see the notice? Last period’s canceled today.”

It’s my turn to blink. How did the subject just change? But I can handle this. “Yeah, pre-Yom Kippur assembly, no? They probably have a speaker coming.”

A couple of other girls amble over, and Shana moves over. “Hey, come join,” she says, and the conversation meanders in a million directions. It’s okay, I realize. I can do this, I can open up a glimpse of my world even if they’ll never understand, and I can close it up again and play along even when it feels like my classmates belong on another planet.

I sit quietly, not apart, but not quite part of the group either. Shana’s a good friend, they all are. But they’ll never be able to really get it like Shaindy can.

And maybe that’s okay, too.