I look up to find Ma and my older sisters sharing meaningful glances. The “Naomi is being overly sensitive and irrational” look
Ituck the sheet under my bed and smooth the comforter with my hands until it’s perfectly straight. I straighten and watch Faiga scrubbing the toothpaste off the mirror and Zeesy sweeping the floor furiously, like somehow faster strokes will result in a cleaner floor. Debbi is straightening her hair, of all things, and Yaeli and Shan, our resident artists, are hanging up a gorgeous banner with the words “Welcome to Our Bunk House” scrawled across.
Tell me it’s Visiting Day without telling me it’s Visiting Day.
I turn around just in time to find Debbi casually perching on the edge of my bed while she ties her shoes.
I remind myself to breathe, but it’s hard. “Debbi,” I say through gritted teeth, “I just spent TWO YEARS straightening that comforter.”
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