Batya Weiss pulled her curly blonde hair loose from its ponytail and walked onstage. The loud banter of voices in the auditorium all the girls eager and excited about the last GO assembly before Pesach vacation quickly quieted as the students watched her adjust the microphone. She knew what the other girls thought of her: only in 11th grade and already GO president concert dance head and an Honor Roll student.
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Tzippora tapped her shoulder. “You were amazing” she said.
Batya shrugged. “Thanks” she said.
Classes for the day were canceled after the assembly. The girls were told to clean out their lockers for chometz.
“Batya!” she heard Ruchama chirp from down the hall. “Do you need any help?”
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