THE BIG TRIP

I’ve been working so, so hard this year. It’s been really stressful. Tests almost every day, more quizzes than I can even count, reports and essays…the list is never ending.

But there was one thing I was looking forward to for two months, ever since we found out about it, and that was our epic trip to Six Flags. Our class won some sort of tzedakah contest, and when we found out what the prize for that was, you could hear the hoots and cheers across the neighborhood (or so I our principal seemed to think).  That trip is what kept me going as I plugged away studying and writing and slaving away over my notes each night. (Well, that and the last day of school, and camp.  But you get the idea.)

The reason I say was looking forward is because Morah Daniels, my teacher, ruined all the fun for me with one fell swoop.

“Girls,” she announced the day before the trip. “I know you’re looking forward to your trip.” Excited whispers and mutterings filed the room. “As it’s a such a big trip,” she continued, “the hanhalah has decided that it’s best to pair you up in partners to walk around the park and keep an eye on each other. Each of you is expected to sit with your partner on the bus and remain with her for the entire trip. I’ll be joining you and so will Miss Schwartz, and we’ll make up meeting spots several times throughout the day so everyone can check in.”

Wait, what? We looked at each other in puzzlement.  How could the school just assign partners? Wasn’t the point of the trip to walk around with our friends?

Morah Daniels looked around the room as she went down the list. It started out on a promising note, with Shani and Batsheva, best friends since first grade.  They beamed. The list went on. So far, so good.

Until she came to me.

“Teri Samuels and Amira Singer.”

Amira?!  

Amira and I were practically joined at the hip from nursery until last year. That’s when we had a huge fight that basically divided our class, and we have scarcely spoken since. Almost never, unless you count the scripted dialogue from our class play earlier this year when we had the misfortune of being onstage together in the same scene.

I looked straight ahead, not wanting to see the curious and concerned glances that were surely being directed my way. It didn’t work. I couldn’t see them. But I could feel them.

After class I saw Amira make a beeline for Miss Daniels’ desk where she began whispering furiously. Her attempt clearly didn’t work, and neither did mine when I also tried reasoning with our teacher during lunch break.

I was stuck.

“Don’t worry,” said Shani as she commiserated with me on the phone that night. “You’ll join me, Batsheva, Ellie, and Leah. Amira will probably sneak away to join her friends after thirty seconds.”

“Yeah, but she can’t,” I pointed out. “Miss Daniels said we have to stay together the whole time.”

Avoiding the rest of my friends’ calls, no doubt excited queries about snacks, lunches, and which rides we should go on, I glumly went about the motions of packing my bag.

The ride to Six Flags was just as terrible as I’d imagined. I was stuck in the window seat, sandwiched in by Amira, whose back was to me the entire trip as she gabbed with Malky across the aisle. Leah, seated behind me, tried leaning over to talk to me a few times but I ignored her.

As soon as we disembarked, Shani grabbed my hand and led me to her group.  After some prodding and several stern looks from Miss Daniels, Amira joined us.

“All right!” yelled Batsheva as soon as we made it through the gate. “Kingda Ka, here we come!”

A few more girls joined us as we raced across the mostly-empty park.

“Everyone in?” asked Shani as we joined the short line.

We all nodded.

Now, I’ve somewhat conceitedly called myself the queen of roller coasters, and with reason, but something went wrong that morning. Either that, or Kingda Ka was just not a good part of my late morning routine.

By the time we got off the ride, my knees were wobbly and I could hardly see straight. I collapsed on a stone ledge beside the ride and tried to regain my equilibrium.

“Everyone ready for El Diabolo?” I heard Shani ask.  It sounded like she was a million miles away. I closed my eyes.

Batsheva sat down beside me. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“I’m not….I’m not feeling so well,” I said.

“Guys, Teri’s not feeling well,” she announced.

They all gathered around me, firing away concerned questions that I mostly ignored because I felt too sick to answer. At some point, Leah appeared at my side with an ice-cold water bottle. I pressed it to my neck and tried to breathe.

“Ok, I feel bad, but what do you want to do?” asked Shani. “You want to wait it out while we go on the next ride?”

I nodded.

“Amira, you have to stay with her,” she ordered. “Miss Daniels said we have to stay with our partners.”

“I’ll stay instead,” offered Batsheva, assumedly in response to the look on my face, but I could hear the reluctance in her voice.

“No, it’s ok,” I said. “I’ll be fine. You really don’t have to stay here. Go.”

After the girls had already left for the next coaster, she sighed. Then she said, “Ok, if you insist, I’ll go. But are you sure?”

And she was off.

Some friends, I was just thinking miserably, when suddenly Amira showed up and plopped herself on the ledge.

Neither of us said a word.

After an awkward silence she asked, “Do you want me to buy you a soda?” I shook my head.

“Everyone said I didn’t have to come back here,” she admitted after another silence. “But the truth is, I’m not really crazy about the idea of another roller coaster right now.”

We sat there for a while as I took slow breaths and eventually slow sips of water.  When I felt slightly less wobbly, we moved to a bench under a shady tree.

We sat and we waited in silence, and all the while I thought to myself, all my friends left me here alone and feeling sick so they could go on a roller coaster.

We sat there far longer than I would have imagined it would take to go on a single roller coaster, mostly silent except for Amira’s periodic questions about how I was feeling and whether she could bring me anything.

Eventually, the girls returned, breathless.

“That was wild!” Shani exclaimed. “Good thing you didn’t go. How are you feeling?”

I don’t remember what I answered her. Somehow I made it through the rest of the day, breathing in as much fresh air as possible, and later, when my stomach had finally settled,  trying a couple of slower-paced rides.

I slept through the entire ride home, but when we got to school the next day, Amira and I exchanged small smiles.

It’s hard to forget a major fight like the one we had, to dismiss all the hurtful and terrible things she said, but my smile said: My friends left me alone to go on a roller coaster, but you stayed with me.