Kayla looks around. Her breath comes in short, fast spurts. “It isn’t right,” she insists, her voice too loud. “It isn’t right, the school’s methodology in handling scheduling changes. Why is there no prior warning or advance notice for a change of this magnitude?”

“It’s just one period, come on,” Shevi Homberg mutters.

Kayla’s eyes pop open. “Just one period? But I had my Yahadus notes and these pens, and oh, I didn’t even bring enough paper for a Navi class because I didn’t anticipate the need for it….” She looks so flustered and overwhelmed that Mimi has to look away. Ouch. Kayla can’t handle change, not the slightest shift to her meticulously planned schedule. To her, a change of schedule is a disaster of epic proportions.

But, oh, how embarrassing was this?!

Hadassah, nice Hadassah, leans over. “Here, Kayla, you can use some of mine.” She proffers a sheaf of loose-leaf paper.

Kayla squints at it and shakes her head. “It’s wide ruled. I only use cartesian graph paper.”

“Aw, at least say thank you,” someone says. Hadassah waves the comment off and steps closer to Kayla.

“Can’t you use it just this once?” she asks.

“No, I really can’t,” Kayla says.

She honestly means it. Mimi knows that. She knows that Kayla needs someone to speak her language, to enter her black-and-white logic-centered world and explain the change in manageable terms, give her time and space to process it, maybe help her to rewrite her schedule or diary or whatever to accommodate the change. She also knows that she is not going to stand up now and give a performance: How to handle your sister with Asperger’s meltdown.

Mrs. Schwartz comes back in, a determined smile on her lips. “Is everyone ready? Let’s begin.”

But Kayla is standing up again. “I’m sorry, I’m not ready yet. I require cartesian graph loose-leaf paper from the school’s supply closet, since I did not know I would be requiring it today, as well as a few moments to organize my books and supplies. It’s not correct to give us such short notice.”

Mrs. Schwartz purses her lips. It’s clear that she’s trying to figure out if Kayla is serious or not.

“I think you had enough time,” she says. “I see that everyone else is ready, and we only have a short time left to the period as it is. Girls, can someone please lend Kayla some loose-leaf paper, and let’s begin.”

“But I can’t—” Kayla protests.

“I’m sure you can manage,” Mrs. Schwartz says firmly. “It’s really fine, Kayla, even if you don’t write notes at all. No more interruptions.”

Kayla looks around desperately. She catches Mimi’s eye, begging for help. She can’t not write notes, Mimi knows, it would turn the world upside down for her. She has to have every word of the class written down, never mind that she could probably repeat it by heart without any notes at all.

Mimi squirms and breaks eye contact with her sister. She should say something. Raise her hand and explain to Mrs. Schwartz that Kayla needs more time than this, a few minutes outside the classroom. That this isn’t trying to be rude, it’s just Kayla, and she really needs this.

But Mimi can’t say a word.

To be continued…

(Originally featured in Mishpacha Jr., Issue 896)