Then, the labeling started. Lazy, stupid, developmentally delayed, ADHD
Chumash.
Again.
I sighed as I looked at the timetable. Should I skip?
You’re in eleventh grade, I scolded myself. Skipping class is so beyond you.
I looked around, helpless. What else should I do?
As usual, my indecisiveness landed me in trouble. Mrs. Adler strolled into the classroom, and I was thrown into the raging sea, with no life jacket on.
This one’s in print. Some of our best stories live in the magazine — subscribe to get Mishpacha every week.
