“But, but….” I sounded like the sputtering last cup of soda in a slush machine. “That doesn’t make any sense,” I finally said

You know what makes no sense? When a perfectly smart and capable person decides to do something that makes absolutely no sense. Does that make any sense to you?

Okay, I’ll explain.

It was late August when Penina dropped her news. Actually, she said it so casually and with so little warning, it didn’t feel like news dropping at all.

One minute we were lying in the grass (trying to enjoy every last moment of summer before school ruined all of our fun) and the next minute Penina said, “I took a job as a mother’s helper.”

“Oh,” I said.

I kinda rolled over and propped my head on my hand.

“Yeah,” Penina said.

The grass was short and prickly, and I twisted around to find a comfortable spot.

“Every Sunday,” she said. “From eleven until one.”

Whaaaat??

I didn’t say that but I did think that!

“What?” I said, the word wobblier but a lot softer than I was thinking it.

“My neighbor, Mrs. Kasner asked me,” Penina said, as if giving up every single Sunday for the next year was absolutely the most normal thing to do. “Her kids are really cute and my mother thought she could really use the help, so I said yes.”

“But—” I said. “But, but….” I sounded like the sputtering last cup of soda in a slush machine. “That doesn’t make any sense,” I finally said.

Penina shrugged. “Sure it does,” she said. Then she looked at her watch and jumped up. “Oops,” she said. “I gotta go. Mrs. Kasner asked me to be at her house at two.”

My mouth twitched. “It’s not Sunday,” I said.

Penina grabbed her book and squinted down at me. “She wants to show me around,” she said. “So I get to know her house and her kids. You know.”

No, I did not know.

I did not know anything at all about what my best friend was doing. Like I said, it made no sense. No sense at all.

Sunday — our one day off, the one day we can just have our own fun, maybe sign up for clubs together, sometimes study together or just sit around and schmooze. And now Penina was taking a job. For hours every single week.

“Why?” I called to her back, but she was halfway down the block at that point and she didn’t turn around.

I pounded my fist into a pile of prickly, stubbly grass.

“Ouch,” I cried.

“Maybe she wants to earn some money?” my mother suggested when I told her about Penina’s ridiculous plan.

“Why would she need that much money?” I asked. “Her parents buy her everything she wants and if she wanted a little more, she could babysit once in a while. She doesn’t have to work every single Sunday.”

“Hmmm,” my mother said. “I’m not sure.”

“I am,” I said, but my mother was already back to chopping carrots for the soup.

My sister Racheli looked up from the magazine she was reading.

“Seriously, Adina,” she said. “I don’t get what you’re so upset about.” She was in that older sister stage, the one where she thought I was ridiculous for making big deals about everything. “It’s not like she’s asking you to help her, and she’s not even giving up her whole Sunday. You’ll still have the whole afternoon to hang around and do whatever it is you two like to do together.” She waved her hand and kinda rolled her eyes before looking back down at her magazine.

I felt heat rise up my face.

“You never understand,” I muttered.