Even as she says it, she flushes slightly. Only she knows that actually, Kayla’s help was what helped her pass the Chumash make-up test. But the shame of it, needing Kayla’s help to keep her grades up. Kayla’s help!

“No problem. No one is forcing you to do anything you’re not comfortable with.” Ma’s voice is soothing.

But she is being forced to do something. To raise her grades, ASAP, before she has to give up gymnastics — and her dreams of coaching — forever.

“You’ll get there, Mimi, you really will,” Ma says. “I know what it’s like. I wasn’t the best student either… I hated math, history, all of it. And you know what? School isn’t forever and after that, you won’t need to study and all that. It’s just for now, it’s very important and we want you to do well.”

Mimi presses her lips together. There Ma goes again, cheery and positive and ice cream with sprinkles. There’s nothing for her to say.

Kayla saunters in, looking too interested in the conversation. “It’s not that hard, you know, 11th grade work,” she says. “In Shemesh Academy, we did this stuff in ninth grade, or tenth.”

Gee, thanks for that, Kayla.

Ma smiles encouragingly. “That’s great, Kayla. Mimi, I’ll leave it up to you, okay?”

Oh. The tutoring.

“I haven’t changed my mind,” she says stiffly.

It’s Wednesday again.

Wednesday used to be her favorite day of the week. Gymnastics class was the highlight of her day, of her life.

But now… now, it all feels kind of pointless.

Mimi drags herself to the closet, takes out her gym bag. She feels old, creaky, like her muscles have been left for too long.

It’s not too long. Just a few days…

A few days with no exercise. No warm-ups or stretches, no power walks with her friends. Not even a walk down to Ella’s house or anything; she’s been hibernating in her room to study, study, study, sometimes with Shoshana, sometimes the others, sometimes alone.

Her brain feels stuffed with wool, her eyes burn, and gymnastics feels like a faraway dream.

And she’s still failing tests. At least, she’s sure she didn’t do well enough on today’s.

Mimi tosses her gym bag down at her feet. She’s going to go, work out, stretch, strain to perfect another move, and what for? What’s the point? A week, two weeks, it’s all over.

Her room — which usually feels spacious and airy — seems to close in on her. The phone is silent. No one’s gonna call this evening; her friends know that Wednesday is off-limits. Kayla won’t disturb her again about tutoring, she’s got some other girls over to study and besides, Mimi’s made her no drastically clear by now.

And then Mimi looks at her desk, the tottering pile of binders and notebooks and papers, and something inside her snaps.

She grabs the topmost paper. It’s a list from Miss Licht, a guide to revision for their next quiz. Rows and rows of letters, small neat bullet points, more and more and more of them racing like a million ants across the page.

Slowly, deliberately, she rips the paper in half. Then half again.

Her fingers become frenzied, take on a mind of their own. She’s shredding the paper now, shredding it with all the anxiety and tension and despair inside her. Tiny white snowflakes litter the floor, more and more and more of them, until the science review sheet disintegrates into nothingness, her fingers tingle, and she somehow feels better.

Then, ignoring the pile of homework, the gym bag, and the mess on the carpet, Mimi climbs into bed, fully clothed, and gives herself up to oblivion.

(Originally featured in Teen Pages, Issue 913)