I keep obsessively smoothing down the pleats in my skirt. I imagine, briefly, if Tili were in my school. We’d walk in together. I’d walk behind her, careful not to step on her heels. But she’s not, so I walk in alone.

It’s like all my senses are heightened. Everything is thrown into such sharp focus; the noises of hundreds of girls greeting each other is deafening. Breathe, I coach myself. Just breathe.

Leah Pepper walks by; she’s always been nice to me, and she looks pretty nervous herself.

I command my hand to wave. It does, if rather limply. She gives me a half smile and walks right by me. Ouch. Maybe I’d always imagined she was nice.

The stream of human traffic flows toward two big wooden doors, so I allow myself to be pushed along. Why are there so many ninth graders? And why’d they all have to pick Bnos Leah High?

My brain has absolutely shut off. I’m completely numb. I blink away sweat, or is it a tear? Am I crying? No crying! Crying bad.

There are chairs with name tags on them. Good, something for me to do. I find Dahlia Levine in between Naama Lerner and Michal Miller. I don’t know either name, so at least that spares me the whole, “Why do you look so different?” cross-examination.

I plop into the seat and immediately hear Hadassah’s voice hissing in my ear, “Sit up. Do not slouch, and do not sit like a 10-year-old boy.” Yup, I hate her. I sit up, cross my ankles carefully, and spy a tote bag on the floor emblazoned with the Bnos Leah High emblem. Cute. I scoop it up and fish out a welcome packet, a water bottle, a Reisman’s brownie bar, and a pen.

Okay. okay, I can do this. I’ll read the welcome packet, and that will give me something to do, aside from have mini panic attacks.

Welcome to High School! I flip the pages idly; the words glancing off of my brain but not really entering.

“Hi!”

Oh gosh, someone is talking to me.

Look up. Smile.

I look up. I smile. “Hi! I’m Dahlia Levine. What’s your name?”

In a sort of faraway lens, I can see that the girl is short and has glasses. “Notice more details,” Temmy’s voice urges. Yuck!

Okay. She’s small, has glasses, frizzy blonde hair, and really cute freckles. “Michal Miller.” She’s looking down while she speaks, and I suddenly have the weirdest thought: She’s intimidated by me.

By me. Dopey Dahlia. I fight down the sudden urge to flip my ponytail over one shoulder, which is interesting, because I have never flipped anything in my life, ever.

I’m suddenly sitting straighter. “Which elementary did you go to?” I ask, my voice no longer shaking.

“Bas Tovah.”

I nod. “Nice. I went to Bnos Bais Yaakov.” Now she nods.

Someone interrupts our nodding. “Hi! I guess this is my seat?”

I turn around. Okay, I don’t need Temmy to tell me to pay attention. Everything about this girl is… glossy. Her hair, her shoes, her bracelets.

“I’m Naama.”

Suddenly, I feel like myself again. Small, dopey Dahlia. I’ll never be glossy or shiny like this girl. But she’s smiling at me brightly, so I say, “I’m Dahlia.”

She gasps and grabs my arm. “I looove that name. This is so fun. Oh, hi Michal.”

I look at Michal. “Were you two in school together?”

She sighs. “Yup.” I smile uneasily, but Michal has already immersed herself in the welcome packet. Well, I know that trick.

Naama settles in her seat and looks around. “Wow, there has to be over 100 girls here.”

Totally hadn’t noticed. “Oh, no question,” I say heartily.

I rub my nose, and Naama gasps again. “Your ring! I’m obsessed.”

Wow, this Hadaya ring is a big hit all around. “Thanks. I just got back from Eretz Yisrael two days ago.”

Naama pulls my arm. “Nuh. Uh. Tell me everything.”

Well, she’s a complete stranger, so, uh, no thank you, but I do tell her a lot: about how I thought Kever Rochel would look different, and the grumpy cab driver.

And by the time the microphone screeches and Rebbetzin Horowitz calls for attention, Naama Lerner is inviting me out for ice cream afterward. And if she conveniently forgot to ask Michal Miller, well, I wasn’t going to remind her.

To be continued…

(Originally featured in Cozey, Issue 1009)