Next Year in Israel

by Sarah Bridgeton

  Mia furrowed her forehead, drumming up her inner actress. “Jordyn and Rebecca had to help me get dressed. It still hurts. Ouch.”

  Leah didn’t seem to suspect anything. She bent over to look at Mia’s ankle.

  “Ouch, don’t touch it!” Mia squealed. “I’m in pain.”

  “Why didn’t you go to the nurse?” Leah asked. “It might be sprained.”

  “I didn’t want to miss school,” Mia said on cue. “I think it’ll heal if I stay off of it.”

  “Nurse Rachelle needs to examine it,” Leah said.

  Jordyn threw her shoulders back. “We should probably get to class.” Nurse Rachelle was throwing a wrench in our plans. How would Mia pull a fast one over her?

  “Go to Nurse Rachelle,” Leah repeated. “I don’t want you falling down the steps.”

  “I need Jordyn and Rebecca to help me walk there.”

  “One helper’s enough. Jordyn can go with you. I expect to see a note from Rachelle.”

  “Thank you.” Mia hobbled to the door.

  Jordyn took Mia’s right arm. I picked up Mia’s backpack and went over to Mia’s left arm. Leah’s phone rang. “Close the door.”

  Jordyn shut the door. I giggled.

  “Hey, girls.” Ben stood by the steps, round the corner from Leah’s office. “Where have you been?”

  Mia broke away as Ben walked toward us. “We overslept. Shouldn’t you be in class?”

  “Shouldn’t you?” Ben said. “I was on my way to the bathroom.” Once he reached us, Mia cozied up to him and planted a kiss on his neck. “I told Leah I sprained my ankle.”

  “Smartass.” Ben stroked her back. Jordyn and I watched Mia whisper in his ear. Envy washed over me. She was lucky to know where she stood with him. They were a couple.

  “I’m excusing you from work for three days,” Ben said loud enough for Jordyn and me to hear. He walked to the steps.

  “Bye, Ben,” Jordyn called after him.

  He smiled at Mia as if Jordyn hadn’t spoken. “Later.”

  “I’d better get to Nurse Rachelle before Leah sees us,” Mia said.

  “I’ll take your backpack to class,” I said. “You shouldn’t have to carry it.”

  “Ha. Ha. I can’t wait to hang out in Ben’s room this weekend,” Mia gushed.

  I flung Mia’s backpack over my shoulder. “I can’t wait to go to Avi’s on Friday.” Waiting to kiss him again was taking all of my self-control. It was hard not to call him. I just wanted to hear his voice, but if I called him too soon he’d think I was a clingy hookup.

  “It’s good to have a supervisor boyfriend,” Mia said.

  Jordyn took Mia’s right arm, and squinted in disgust.

  ~ * * * ~

  The next day, Jordyn stopped by my desk just before history class began. “Mia’s into Caleb. I saw her touch him yesterday.”

  Our only contact with Caleb the day before had been her saying hi to him at lunch after her trip to see Nurse Rachelle. “She isn’t.” I was fed up with Jordyn. Mia wouldn’t backstab her for Caleb. The three of us were getting along. Didn’t she see it?

  “I’m going to tell Mia that Caleb broke up with me for her,” Jordyn said as the bell rang.

  Mia hobbled in, holding Ben’s arm. Jake carried her crutches and leaned them against the back of her desk. Surprisingly, Nurse Rachelle had given Mia an ace bandage, crutches, and a no-work note.

  Jordyn sat down in the back row.

  Leah walked in. “All right, class. I’m teaching permanently. Your teacher had a mild stroke last night. He’s expected to recover, but he’ll be out for the rest of the year. Read chapter fifteen from your book.” I opened my book, anxious. Should I warn Mia? What if I warned her, and Jordyn didn’t say anything? Jordyn might be setting me up to do her dirty work.

  Jake tapped my desk. “Has Jordyn talked about who she wants now that she’s not with Caleb?”

  “She’s not your type,” I said. Starting a Mia rumor would have enormous consequences. It would affect Mia, Ben, and Caleb.

  “Rebecca and Jake, stop talking.” Leah pulled down the map and started droning on and on about different countries.

  Jake passed me a note asking what I was doing this weekend.

  Avi’s, I wrote back.

  Jake leaned in. “Have you kissed him?”

  My face flushed. It wasn’t his business.

  “That’s what I thought,” Jake said.

  Leah paced in front of the map. “No talking, Jake.”

  I looked at Jake. He winked at me.

  Why did I let myself react? I was just another body to him.

  I doodled in my notebook until class ended, relieved Jordyn hadn’t started a rumor. After school, Jordyn caught up to Mia and me on the steps. “Mia, I heard the Israelis talking about you at lunch yesterday. They think I’m deaf to Hebrew and didn’t realize I understood. I wasn’t going to tell you, but I would want to know if there was a rumor about me.”

  Mia gave me her crutch. “What? Tell me.”

  “That you did it with Caleb last week.”

  My stomach knotted. Wasn’t it enough to talk about Mia behind her back? Throwing the lie in her face was vicious. Mia turned her head to pinpoint Ben’s whereabouts. He was in the courtyard, talking to Jake and Caleb.

  “Ben’s my boyfriend. I don’t cheat,” Mia said bravely.

  “I could tell off Caleb for you,” Jordyn said.

  I wanted to slap Jordyn. Mia stopped on the step. “Forget it.”

  “Aren’t you worried Ben will hear?” Jordyn said.

  “Not really,” Mia said, and I knew she was worried. How could she not be? Jordyn was on the verge of doing something that would be impossible to repair.

  “They’re calling you a slut.” Jordyn tried not to smile.

  Mia shrugged, totally mellow. She was either giving a great performance, or she was completely sure that Ben trusted her.

  “I’d be mad if everybody was talking about me,” Jordyn said.

  “Whatever,” Mia said.

  “Do something about it,” Jordyn insisted.

  “It’s like you want to keep it going.” Mia’s face had an edginess that told Jordyn to back down.

  “Do not,” Jordyn said. “You’re my friend.”

  “Really? ‘Cause you don’t seem like it.” Mia’s face flushed, and I wondered if she had some self-doubt that might be gnawing at her. Till now, I had been Jordyn’s victim. Was it Mia’s turn? Would Ben fall for it?

  “My friends stand up for themselves.” Jordyn raised her voice, reminding us of her power.

  “I think you need some new friends,” Mia said calmly in the chaos, and I knew she wasn’t gonna let Jordyn break her.

  “My friends aren’t sluts. I’m finding new roommates.” Jordyn walked over to a group of Israelis.

  “I don’t believe the rumor,” I said, impressed by Mia’s strength. “Everybody knows you wouldn’t cheat.”

  “She’s asking for it.” Mia waved to Ben. “Let’s tell her to move tonight and redecorate our room without her.”

  Chapter 12

  “I MISS MY PARENTS,” MIA said to me as the bus turned out of the kfar. It was our second trip to Jerusalem. I looked out the window. It was dark outside. There were two cars parked at the gas pumps in front of the Deleck. “You got an e-mail from them yesterday.”

  “It makes me miss them more. I miss my school.”

  I closed my eyes. “You don’t like your school.”

  “I like yearbook and student government. Don’t you miss home?”

  How could I miss who I used to be? “Nah.”

  “You don’t miss anything?” she asked.

  “My parents a little, and the Chinese restaurant near Dad’s.” The bus stopped at a traffic light. There’s nothing to miss about being a victim.

  Mia put her head against the window. “What’s wrong with me? I’m homesick, and you’re not.”

  She’d realize why I wasn’t homesick, if she knew
what I left behind. “There’s a reason I don’t miss school.”

  Mia nodded. “‘Cause it’s different here?”

  Telling her about who I had been would ruin everything. She’d wonder if there was something wrong with me. Why cloud our relationship with those types of thoughts? I was in an easy place. She thought she was helping a semi-cool smarty. It’d be different if she knew the truth. The silence between us was getting awkward. I had to say something. “There’s more to me than being a valedictorian wannabe. It’s cool that you get it.”

  Mia adjusted her headband. “I don’t see you as a geek. You didn’t freak when you got eighty-five on our history quiz.”

  “Well… it’s gonna trash my GPA,” I said. “I just keep it to myself when I don’t get the highest score in the class. Don’t want to bore everybody with my grade-induced mood swings.” My stomach swirled again. It was wrong. I was being fake. She’d be pissed if she found out I lied about my pre-kfar life, that I wasn’t who I claimed to be.

  “I’m different here, too,” Mia said.

  She wasn’t. “You’re still popular.”

  “Yeah, but I’m seeing things differently.”

  I smiled. “Like cracking a brainiac out of her shell? Do you think Avi was blowing me off?” He had postponed my visit to the upcoming weekend.

  “Stop obsessing. He wouldn’t have rescheduled if he was.”

  “True, but homework’s a lame excuse.”

  “You said he goes to a cutthroat school,” Mia said.

  What if he changed his mind about liking me? It had been two weeks since our kiss. He might be sending me a not-into-you signal. I took off my jean jacket, thankful he wasn’t at the kfar. I’d be a wreck, analyzing his every move, wondering if I should be cool or friendly around him.

  “Take it all off,” Jake said from the seat across from us.

  My heart zigzagged. I pulled down my tee shirt quickly.

  He pulled Jordyn’s hair. “Your turn.”

  Jordyn batted her hand in the air. “Please.”

  Mia and I were getting along fine without Jordyn since she had found new roommates.

  “Boker tov,” Chatterbox said into the microphone.

  No one answered him.

  “I said good morning.” We’re going back to Jerusalem today to see Yad VaShem, a Holocaust memorial. In Hebrew, the Holocaust is called—”

  “Quiet, we’re trying to sleep,” Ben said.

  “Get rid of your attitude.” Chatterbox sipped his coffee. “Shall I tell the driver to take you back to the kfar?”

  Ben put on his headphones and blasted the music.

  Chatterbox continued, “The Hebrew word for the Holocaust is Ha-Shoah.”

  Grandma talked about her relatives who had died in concentration camps. It was sad they hadn’t survived, but they seemed like a bunch of strangers, because I hadn’t known them.

  “Ben’s grandmother’s a survivor,” Mia said.

  I glanced at Ben. He was crouched down in his seat, mouthing the lyrics to whatever song was in his iPod.

  Our first stop at the memorial was a tent-shaped building that looked like a stone vault. It was dark and dreary, except for an eternal flame behind a crypt that held ashes of victims. Ben squeezed Mia’s hand, sidestepping around plaques on the floor naming murder sites and concentration camps. “My grandmother was a baby; she was hidden and taken to Sweden. The rest of her family was wiped out. Her mother and father.”

  Tears slid down Mia’s face. I handed her a Kleenex from my pocket.

  “Was your grandfather a holocaust victim too?” Jake asked.

  “He was born here.” I had seen pictures of Ben’s family in his room. Ben’s olive skin and dark eyes came from his dad. I felt a lump in my throat. It was pointless to tell him I was sorry his relatives were murdered, and for the first time, my family members didn’t seem nameless. They were my relatives too.

  Later, we ate the same boxed lunch we had on our first trip: cucumber and tomato in a pita, with a banana and a warm Coke. “Our next stop’s the Shuk Arab market,” Chatterbox told us. “No one shops alone. I want everyone in pairs. Don’t give the beggars anything or they’ll follow you. Shopping can be… what’s the correct word?”

  “A balagan, chaos,” Leah said. “We’re skipping dinner tonight, so eat here.”

  It was definitely a balagan the minute we stepped off the bus. Crowds of people milled around. Someone was giving tourists camel rides across the street. A couple of kids dressed in dirty jeans and Sony tee shirts came up to us with their hands out. Ben yelled at them in Hebrew until they headed to another bus of tourists.

  Parts of the food area smelled disgusting. Dead chickens and turkeys hung from the walls of the meat stalls, their carcasses waiting to be sold. Mia stopped at a stall in front of a tray loaded with pastries.

  A middle-aged man came out immediately, wearing a black tunic and a black-and-white checkered head scarf.

  “Three for five shekels,” he said. “You choose any one.”

  I swatted at the flies hovering.

  “Lo,” Ben said and turned to walk away.

  “Three for three shekels,” the man countered.

  Mia handed him money.

  I took a piece of baklava.

  “Thanks, Ben.” I chewed. “What’s in here?”

  “Nuts and honey.” Ben took a piece. “We could have gotten it cheaper. Let me do the talking.”

  Mia rolled her eyes. “I can barter for myself.”

  “I’m fluent in Hebrew,” Ben said. “They’ll take advantage because you’re a girl.”

  “I don’t think so,” she said.

  I waved at Jake in the next stall. “Jake, come over here.”

  “You want me to bargain for you?”

  “Nah.”

  “Actually, Rebecca and I are shopping alone.” Mia pulled me down the alleyway, laughing. We cracked up until another voice got our attention.

  “Hi, Gingy. I got some fruit for you.”

  I looked around. Who was Gingy?

  “I’m talking to the redhead and her friend,” the merchant said, from several feet away. “You want apples or kiwi?”

  We walked into his stall. He handed Mia two strawberries. “To go with your hair.”

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “You tell your friends about me. Okay?”

  We wandered past children’s sweaters hanging cluttered from the booth into a stall full of candlestick holders. Two forty-something shopkeepers in beige tunics and scarves darted out. Mia lifted a skinny silver case with Hebrew letters on it. It was similar to the mezuzah attached to the right doorpost of my house that my parents had received as a wedding gift.

  “You like it?” one of the shopkeepers asked.

  Mia held it closer. “Does it include a scroll?”

  “Of course. You buy it and get the prayers to put inside.”

  Mia put it down and pointed to the gold one on the shelf. “Gold is more Aunt Julie’s taste. How much?”

  “Twenty shekels.”

  “Mia, we have to go meet our group.” I waved my watch to speed up the process. Walking out dropped the price dramatically.

  “Eighteen shekels,” he said loudly.

  “Ten,” Mia answered.

  “Thirteen.”

  “Eleven.” She turned her body toward the entrance.

  “Twelve.”

  “Sold,” she said.

  He handed her a plastic bag with her loot. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  “We have to meet Leah at the bus,” I said. We only had a few precious shopping minutes left. I hadn’t bought my parents presents yet.

  “We have time.” Mia didn’t follow my lead.

  “Have a seat,” the merchant said. “We are honored you will have tea with us. Are you American?”

  Mia sat down on the folding chair. “Yes.”

  The other man came out with a silver tea set. “You like Isr
ael?”

  “I love Israel. Sit down, Rebecca.” Mia ordered. “Are you Arabs?”

  I sat down, annoyed by Mia’s question. They were obviously Arabs from their scarves and tunics. Israeli males didn’t wear scarves or tunics. They dressed like Avi in pants or shorts.

  “Yes.” He raised a silver bowl full of mini sugar cubes. “Would you like sugar?”

  “I don’t use sugar,” I said.

  Mia took two cubes. Three women dressed in jeans, buttoned-up blouses, and head scarves walked in, speaking Arabic. I sipped my tea and listened to them laugh with the shopkeepers like we didn’t exist. I smiled when they strolled out of the store like they were on a homework break and didn’t want to go back to their textbooks. The shopkeeper who hadn’t spoken to us pulled down the chains, blocking the shop entrance.

  My pulse raced. Chatterbox and Leah had told us to be careful.

  “So we can enjoy tea without other customers,” the other shopkeeper said.

  I kicked Mia’s foot. Mia sipped her tea like sitting alone with strangers was a regular occurrence.

  I picked up my cup and wondered where the soldiers were. We had seen lots of them walking around. There had to be a few nearby.

  The silent shopkeeper sat down on his stool next to the register and moved his hands behind the counter.

  I put down my cup. If he pulled out a gun or knife, I would scream full force for the soldiers to hear.

  “Your hair is beautiful,” the other shopkeeper said to Mia.

  The silent shopkeeper behind the counter stared at her. I waited for Mia to answer.

  “Thanks.” She sounded flattered by the compliment. “My grandma had red hair.”

  Why did she have to keep the conversation going? We needed to leave before they tried to hurt us. What if the soldiers didn’t hear me scream?

  “Have your parents found a husband for you?” the other shopkeeper said.

  Mia snickered. “My parents won’t arrange my marriage. I’ll pick whoever I marry.”

  The silent shopkeeper moved his stubby hands to the base of the register and spoke. “My son is nineteen and very smart. He wants to be an accountant. Would you like to meet him?”

  She gulped down the remaining tea in her cup. “I won’t have time. We’re flying back to America tomorrow.”