“Rena Leah, thanks so much for telling me. I’m really sorry you’re going through so much”
This is so not my type. It’s the only thought flashing through my mind as I lean back against Rena Leah Abramowitz’s wooden bookcase.
Which is surprising, considering what Rena Leah just told me.
I hadn’t minded when Morah Kraus paired us up for the Tanach report. Rena Leah may not be one of my close friends, but she’s so nice. We’ve totally had fun together in school, dancing together at chagigah, and just appreciating each other’s company without ever crossing into friendship territory. Because let’s face it, that’s some dangerous terrain.
But here we are, 2 a.m., sitting cross-legged on her living room carpet. Apparently, the Abramowitz family doesn’t believe in sleep. Her two older sisters are shmoozing in the kitchen… on two separate phones. Her mother is Zooming with her sisters in Eretz Yisrael, and her father has fallen asleep in his chair at the kitchen table, oblivious to all the commotion. Or more likely, conditioned into it.
Create a free account to keep reading.
