“It’s not fair!” I burst out eloquently. “What on earth does Atara have to be jealous about?"

Iclutch my coffee cup and shiver. In hindsight, I’m not sure meeting Goldie in the park was the best idea for a December afternoon, but at least she brought hot chocolate. I watch her fuss with Effie’s hat, ensuring it covers his ears. The baby’s nose is bright red and I’ve honestly never seen anything so cute in my whole life. I take a sip of my drink, the hot sweetness courses through me, and suddenly I feel wide awake.

“Goldie?”

“Hmmm?”

She settles onto the bench next to me and flips a blonde lock over her shoulder. I obsess for a second over her blush-colored peplum jacket, matching scarf, and studded hat, and then move on.

“Goldie, what should I do?”

She looks at me thoughtfully. “You know, I’ve always wanted a little sister.”

I scrunch my nose at her. “Awww. Not helpful, but awww.”

She laughs. “Kay, what should you do about Atara? Hmmm. I’d say give her space.”

I open my mouth to protest but she’s still speaking. “When people are jealous, they can’t see straight. Their vision fogs up, all history gets erased, and suddenly everything is defined in terms of ‘always’ and ‘never.’”

My brain hurts. “I have no idea what that means,” I say plaintively.

Goldie grins. “You’re kind of annoying, you know that?”

I flick her padded shoulder. “Totally. Now explain.”

“I just mean that when jealousy clouds a person’s vision, they forget all the times you were there for them, and suddenly, you ‘never show up when needed.’ Or they get total amnesia about all the times you apologized, and say that you ‘always walk away without saying I’m sorry.’ So right now, if Atara’s rewriting your history out of jealousy, maybe just give her space to remember what your friendship is really about. She’ll come around, you’ll see.”

I stare at the ground, the tip of my bootie making patterns in the dust. The girl made sense, but it just wasn’t fair.

“It’s not fair!” I burst out eloquently. “What on earth does Atara have to be jealous about? The girl is perfect, her family is neat and uncomplicated, her mother is young and cool, she’s a great dancer, has great clothes….”

I trail off as Goldie stares at me.

“What?” I ask uncomfortably. Goldie gives a half-smile.

“Maybe,” she says, “now you’re the one forgetting history?”

***

I walk alone; Goldie has to drop Effie by her mom’s, and I need to get to dance class. I mull over my sister-in law’s words as I trudge my way to the studio. What could Goldie have meant? It sounded like she was saying I’ve had a great life, and I suppose she’s right. I mean, baruch Hashem, compared to the things I know are going on in the world, but it’s not like my life is easy. I mean, she should try being the only girl among seven boys. And having to watch Ma struggle with being the sandwich generation. No one should have to hear their mother cry. Not to mention math!

I smirk at that last one and turn left into Shayna’s low white building.