How could this be happening? I’m going to camp with no Shabbos clothes. Unbelievable. And yet, so very believable

I

am beyond tired. I feel it in my bones when I wake up. But it’s okay, tenth-grade finals are almost finished, and I won’t have to pull another all-nighter until eleventh-grade midterms. In the meantime, I need coffee. A lot of it. A hot shower helps, a quick blow-dry to the top of my head (the bottom dries nice enough by itself), and then uniform and davening. A smudge of mascara in that I’m-not-wearing-makeup way and I’m ready. Thank You, Hashem, for afternoon test-taking schedules.

I peek into the kitchen with lidded eyes. Ma is perched at the island in her purple house robe and black tichel, sighing into a glass of tea.

“G’morning,” I mumble, snatching my thermos of cold brew from the fridge door and heading straight for the granola bar drawer. Grab 1 Caramel Crunch, perfect.

Ma’s eyes don’t leave my face. “Good morning, sweetie. Ready for the bekius test?”

I shrug, the language of grumpy teens everywhere.

“Mrs. Kramer is fair, so no tricky questions. If you know the material, you’ll be fine,” Ma says thoughtfully.

I feel my blood pressure rising, although I have no logical explanation for why. “’Kay,” I say, heading to the door.

“Looking forward to shopping later,” Ma says brightly.

Ooooh yeah, Ma said she’d take me to Teen Dreams later for a summer Shabbos wardrobe upgrade. “Me, too,” I say, turning around and flashing a genuine smile at her. “Oh, Ma, they close at six, because that’s what time stores close here in Nowheresville, New Jersey. So can we get there by five?”

Ma purses her lips, thinking. “I have a meeting at four, but it shouldn’t be too long. I’ll pick you up from home, and we’ll have plenty of time to shop, okay?”

“Thanks, Ma.”

And feeling considerably less tired, I head out into the bright June day.