Muffle, muffle.

She comes back on. “We’re at this park near Main Street.”

So random, but okay. “Yeah, I know where that is. Let me ask my sister if she can drive me.”

Shan laughs again. “Your sister? Cu-ute! See you, Naomi.”

Well that was weird.

I go pester Libby into driving me; she seems oddly reluctant.

“C’mooooon,” I beg.

She sighs, rolls her eyes, shakes her head, and at long last agrees.

“Let the record show I do not think this is a good idea,” she says, grabbing her keys.

I wrinkle my nose. “You’re so weird, what record?”

She sighs again. “It’s like what they say in a courtroom, you know, by a—”

“I’m kidding!” I cut her off. “I knew what you meant.”

Then I grab the keys and run out to the car while she checks her makeup in the mirror one last time.

We bop along to Mordechai Shapiro and sing at the top of our lungs, and then suddenly we’re there.

Libby rolls down the window, nose wrinkled.

The park has seen better days.

I suddenly feel very hot despite the breeze wafting through the car.

“Are you sure this is it?”

I shrug but then I see her. Shan. But also, not Shan.

Her blonde hair is cut short and kind of jagged, and she’s wearing a graphic tee with sleeves just grazing the elbows, a short black skirt, and black leggings.

I swallow hard. Shan.

She sees us and comes skipping over to the car. I see a gaggle of kids at a far-off bench; she must be with them.

“Nooomes!”

I jump out of the car, hug her tight.

She looks tired and her eyes are red.

“Sooo good to see you,” I say throatily.

She laughs, an airy, breezy sound that involves her throwing her head back.

“Really? Because no one else seems to think so.”

She waves obnoxiously at Libby who gives her a calm smile back and slides the window back up.

Classic Libby.

I pull her to a nearby brick wall; we sit and just look at each other.

I’m still in my uniform, although I’d dabbed on some mascara and lip gloss in the car.

“You look good,” she says softly.

I grab her hand. “Shan, what happened?”

She shakes her head sadly. “You don’t want to know. Tell me about you. How’s it going with Madame Principal?”

I smile weakly. “I think okay. I tune out most classes. Once, my mother came over to me and Debbi during lunch to tell us off for skipping a different class. That was pretty bad.”

Shan’s eyes darken. “That’s insane. Totally not okay.”

I draw back. “Um, it was fine in the end. Really. I don’t hold a grudge or anything.”

There’s a shriek of laughter from the far off-bench.

Shan looks over at them, neck craning to see what’s happening.

I feel her slipping away.

“I… well, it was awesome to see you,” I say resignedly.

She leans in, gives me a tight hug.

“You too, Nomes. Stay in touch, okay? I’d really like that.”

I nod. “Sure….”

She gives me one last air kiss and skips backward toward her friends, blonde jagged locks swinging.

I watch her go and then turn toward the car.

Libby is patiently going through flash cards, studying for her test.

“Arteriosclerosis is the thickening, hardening, and loss of elasticity of the walls of the arteries,” she says by way of greeting.

I plop onto the seat and buckle up. “Indeed,” I say tiredly. “Let’s go home, Libs.”

I don’t look back.

To be continued…

(Originally featured in Mishpacha Jr., Issue 973)