“It was from stress. I used to get them when I was younger.”
“Not now?”
“They’re rare now. Maybe I grew out of them. I hope so.”
“But back then you had them.”
“Yeah, I think I was scared my first day. I would have left the class, but you were so nice to me.”
“Me? What did I do?”
“It really is a blur for you, huh? Do you remember you sharpened my pencil?”
“I would never sharpen a girl’s pencil.”
“Now you wouldn’t.”
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know. You kind of—do your own thing.”
“Maybe I’m shy.”
“You don’t seem shy this moment.” I smile and she smiles back.
“So tell me about the first day of second grade,” I say.
“Okay. I broke a pencil, and I was about to get up when you reached over and asked me if you could sharpen it for me.”
“No way.”
“Then you took my whole pencil case up to the electric sharpener.”
“That’s so embarrassing.”
“You took them out one by one, and you were just sawing away at the things for, like, ten minutes. Ms. Shine finally said, ‘Are you going to be a lumberjack, Mr. Zuckerman?’ and everyone laughed.”
I’m watching her as she tells the story, and even though I don’t remember it exactly, something about it sounds right, like a picture slowly coming into focus.
“The whole class laughed at me? Great, I looked like a jerk on my first day.”
“I didn’t laugh, Sanskrit. I was grateful that you helped me.” Judi pulls her backpack onto her lap and hugs it to her. “I remember that day really well,” she says, “because it was the only thing that made me want to come back to school the next day.”
I take a sip from my cup and the taste of India fills my mouth.
India. I was actually considering the idea a few minutes ago. But everything feels different now that Judi and I are talking. Now that there’s a chance for us.
“I remember something about second grade,” I say.
“What?”
“Valentine’s week.”
I’m about to tell her it was the greatest week of my life, when I see her face has gone pale. She bites at her thumbnail.
“What’s wrong?” I say.
Before she can answer, Barry Goldwasser walks up. “I turn my back for one minute,” he says, “and Zuckerman slides in like a snake in the garden.”
“You’re crazy,” Judi says.
“How is my beauty?” he says to Judi. He looks around the room. “Have the frummers left the building?”
“All clear,” she says.
I’m wondreing why he would care if any religious people are around when he leans over and kisses her.
Barry claps me on the shoulder like nothing just happened. His voice turns serious. “How are you doing, buddy? For real.”
I can’t speak.
“Judi’s been giving you the third degree, huh?” he says. “I know, she sent me a text.”
He pulls up a chair, straddles it backwards, and leans towards me, his arms crossed along the back edge.
I’m stunned. I can’t stop thinking about the kiss.
I say, “Are you two—”
“Together?” Barry says. He smiles.
“We keep it low key,” Judi says. “You understand.”
“Of course.”
“Back to business,” Barry says.
“I don’t want you to worry about this event,” he says. “We’re taking care of everything. God willing, your mother will be restored to health and back to you soon.”
“God willing,” I say.
“In the meantime, we do what we can.”
He takes the pad out of Judi’s hands and starts to read.
“Interesting. Who’s doing the intro?” he says.
“It’s up to Sanskrit.”
“What’s up to me?”
“The dean is going to make a speech,” Judi says, “but one of us should introduce you. To show that the students are behind you.”
“Happy to do it,” Barry says. “In fact, I’d be honored.”
“You kind of always do it,” Judi says.
“Sorry if I’m the president and I have responsibilities,” Barry says.
“I don’t want to get into this again,” she says.
“That’s convenient,” Barry says. He looks at me and rolls his eyes like we’re in on it together. Boys vs. girls. It’s the same thing Dad does when he’s arguing with Mom.
“Do we have to fight in front of Sanskrit?” Judi says. “He’s got enough on his mind.”
Barry backs down.
“You are so right,” he says. “Apologies all around. I don’t know what I was thinking. Let me be a mensch here. It’s up to you, Sanskrit. Whoever you’re comfortable with.”
I want to hurt Judi by choosing Barry. I want to hurt Barry by choosing Judi. I want to hurt both of them by canceling the whole event.
Or I could just tell the truth. Do it right now, fast, like dropping a guillotine.
I imagine their faces when I tell them I made the whole thing up.
Barry has his hand on Judi’s back. He’s stroking her slowly as the two of them wait for me to make a decision about who should give the speech.
I look from Barry to Judi.
Not Judi anymore. Not my Judi. Someone else’s.
The Initials. I want to call her The Initials again. It was a mistake to switch back to her name.
“I want her to do the introduction,” I say.
The Initials looks happy. I’m expecting Barry to be upset, but he goes into Barry mode, giving my shoulder a friendly clench.
“Good choice,” he says. “This event is going to be so special. I’m very happy about all of this.”
“Me, too,” I say. “I’m happy, too.”
“I’m miserable.”
That’s what I tell Crystal when she asks me how I’m doing.
She leans across the reception desk at the Center and says, “I’m sorry to hear that. Do you want to talk about it?”
I almost tell her everything. How the guru invited me to go to India, how it seemed like a crazy idea. But that was before. Before I knew Judi had a boyfriend.
Now leaving the country seems like a great idea.
I’m not saying I’m going, but I really want to talk to the guru about it.
My phone chimes. Another text from Sweet Caroline:
wht hpnd!?!
I ignore it.
“I need to talk to the guru,” I tell Crystal.
“He’s in private session,” Crystal says. “He can’t be interrupted.”
“This is important.”
“If you can wait an hour—”
“Where is my mom?”
“She’s not here.”
“When will she be back?”
Crystal looks at the schedule.
“She has class at seven a.m. tomorrow.”
My head is spinning. I think about going home and waiting for Mom, but I can’t talk to her about this. I need to talk to the guru. I have to ask him about India, if he was serious about it.
“I just remembered. I have to get something from my mom’s locker,” I say.
“Do you know the combination?” Crystal says.
“Of course. She gave it to me.”
Goal weight. Actual weight. Goal weight.
That way she never forgets.
I rush down the hall.
“Take your shoes off!” Crystal calls after me.
I peek through the window of the big studio, but there’s a class in there, a sea of tanned flesh and muscled butts.
I check the smaller studio. There’s a class in there, as well. Women with their backs arched over giant yoga balls.
I remember there’s a private room in the back behind the office. Sometimes Mom goes in there to meditate before her class.
I walk towards the office, glancing over my shoulder to make sure nobody is watching me.