I feel like I’ve hit rock bottom. I’m a mess inside and out. I want to go to the bathroom and cry forever but I don’t even have energy to get out of my seat. Through the fog I see someone put something down on my desk. It’s a cup with steam curling out of it and the most welcoming smell.

“I made you a coffee,” Chavala says

It warms me in more ways than she can fathom. I don’t even have the words to thank her because through the fog I can see a ray of hope.

I give her a small smile. “Thank you,” I mouth.

Then I slowly sip the drink and allow the care and concern to enter my bones.

Apparently, the caffeine worked its magic because I feel rejuvenated and able to actually pay attention.

Then we have practice. I head toward our dance with Shaindy bouncing along at my side. From the corner of my eye I see Liba. Liba just joined our school and… oh, she’s in our dance, I realize. I wonder why I didn’t see her yesterday. Oh, right, she was absent. I notice that she looks a little lost. Yesterday was the first day of practice so she probably doesn’t know where to go. I change directions and walk toward Liba. I want to pass over the good feeling that Chavala gave me and show her that someone cares.

Today I get smart and learn hilchos Shabbos as soon as I get home from school. We barely have homework due to the concert, so I get that done right away as well, and now I’m actually feeling good for a change. I’m wandering around the house wondering what I should do. Practice isn’t for another hour, and supper isn’t ready yet either.

I debate whether I should call Ahuva or Chavala. I could even call Milka — I haven’t spoken to her in a while. I could even call Liba. I schmoozed with her in school, and she’s a really cute, intelligent girl.

And then it happens. I’m idly flipping through a magazine as I’m deciding who to call when I come across a really weird picture. I don’t even know what the ad is for but it’s a picture of blue pizza, and it gets me nervous so I turn the page. My stomach turns at the thought of consuming blue pizza so I quickly try to think of something else, but I can’t! I start to panic. Help! I’m never gonna get that picture out of my head!

I don’t feel like calling anyone anymore, I just have to figure out how to think of something else. I try for the next 20 minutes, without success. Then I eat supper, which tastes like dust and blue pizza. Oh no, the feeling is still here.

to be continued…

(Originally featured in Mishpacha Jr., Issue 957)