I thought it was just an expression but I could actually feel the hairs on the back of my neck standing up and prickling.
I know that voice. I’d heard it just this morning at davening. The rows of lockers stare blank and unsmiling for all their glossy yellowness. Nah I’m too big for a locker. No choice. I stop swipe at my tingling nape and turn around.
“What are you doing out here in the middle of practice?” the principal demands.
I can’t remember the last time I got into trouble. Like I said I don’t make scenes. I want to tell Rebbetzin Reiman that I’m not a troublemaker. At PTA they tell my mother I’m a model student. The thought of anyone being modeled on my example makes me snort and I half smile.
