“The moaner what?” someone asks.

”He was an Italian artist during the Renaissance period.”

Raizy overhears. Her glossed lips curl. “Oh, please, do we really need to have a history lesson now?”

There’s a moment of silence, then someone says, “Shh,” too quietly, someone else begins to talk, and it passes.

It’s a tradition at Bnos Torah High School, the exchange of personalized mishloach manos on Taanis Esther. At the beginning of Adar, the GO committee arranges a massive lottery, every girl receiving the name of another girl in the school, and they prepare a themed mishloach manos having to do with the girl that they’ve picked.

For the past two years, Mimi’s received gymnastics-themed packages. Not too bad, even if it gets a little boring over time. But that’s what most people know about her: cute girl, tight group of friends, super-talented gymnast. She’s never going to get the walking-dictionary theme, or the 100 percent one. She supposes she should be grateful; at least she’s not being defined as “the strange girl’s sister.”

She wonders who will pick Kayla.

The GO heads are dressed as farm girls, straw hats and swinging braids and the lottery papers coming out of a huge wicker basket. Each name is written on a tiny scroll and tied with lime-green ribbon. That must have taken time.

Mimi peeks at her scroll. Esti Taub, 10th grade. Esti Taub, right, sweet girl, great singing voice. She could go with the microphone theme if she can’t find anything better.

“Who’d you get?” Ella asks. Mimi shows her.

“Oh.” Ella flips her paper around and put a finger on her lips. She has Toby Marcus. Cute.

A small group ambles over to the front of the room, digs through the basket, each girl emerging with a scroll. Bina picks herself and has to replace it, mixing the papers together vigorously and picking again. There are exclamations of surprise, excitement, a few muted groans of girls who picked students that they don’t know at all.

“So you’ll get to know them! That’s the whole point,” calls Goldie Green, one of the GO heads.

Raizy and Mali have just picked their lots, and Raizy is giggling too hard. Mimi feels a pit form in her stomach. Oh, no, did Raizy pick Kayla or something? That would be too coincidental. But also, it would be a disaster. What would she do, probably something to do with organic apples and teacher’s pet, something standard enough that she could get away with it, but snide enough that even Kayla would probably realize it was intended to be a jab.

Mali pockets her scroll with a casual air, and Raizy pokes her, discreetly shows her the name on her own paper, and whispers something. Now they’re both giggling.

Please, let it not be Kayla.

Wait, why does she even feel so… protective? Since when does she care so much?

She’s my sister.

Yeah. And that mattered so much to you all those other times, when you were trying to disassociate yourself as much as possible from her.

Mimi wraps her fingers around each other, forces herself to look away before Raizy catches sight of her staring.

Because it’s embarrassing. That’s why I care. And because… because I don’t want Kayla getting hurt.

Whoa. Where did that come from?

It’s the truth. I do care, I care about her and about how she’s treated.

I care that I… that I haven’t been so nice. That I can’t just be friendly toward her without worrying what people will think. I wish I could.

She thinks of Tova complimenting her strength. She wasn’t talking about physical strength, either. But is it true? Is she strong? Would any of her classmates think so? Her parents? Kayla?

“Everyone picked a name?” Michal, one of the GO heads, calls. There’s a smattering of yes-es, nods, thank yous.

Mimi spots Kayla frozen in her seat, looking bewildered. Shemesh Academy didn’t do these kind of things, did they?

“Good luck and happy Adar!” trill Michal and Goldie, lifting the basket between them ceremoniously.

Mimi opens her mouth. “Wait!” she says. It doesn’t feel like her voice, but it’s steady enough. “I don’t think—” She turns to her sister. “Kayla. Did you pick a name?”

(Originally featured in Mishpacha Jr., Issue 925)