Free Lauren Yanofsky Hates the Holocaust by Leanne Lieberman Page B

distracted myself from the boys and their armbands. My breathing slows. I’m not dying of a heart attack at sixteen. Then I start to feel sleepy and sore from sitting on the cement, and I get to my feet and go up to my room. I brush my teeth and pull on my favorite flannel pajamas with stars on them and get into bed. Only by imagining lanterns at the festival am I able to calm down and then finally sleep.

S ix
    T he next morning I sit up slowly and drink a glass of water. The backs of my eyes ache and my head pounds, as if drums are being played in my skull. Alcohol is so not worth it. I roll over and think about the guys’ armbands, then feel myself shudder. Who can I talk to about this? I hesitate before dialing Alexis. She’ll freak, but I need to tell someone. Her phone rings three times before she picks up.
    â€œHey, Lauren.” She sounds sleepy.
    â€œDid I wake you?”
    â€œNo, but I’m still in bed.” She yawns. “What’s up?”
    â€œI have something crazy to tell you, but I don’t want you to overreact. And you can’t tell anyone.”
    â€œIs it about that guy, Jesse?”
    I hesitate. If I tell her the truth, then how can I still like him? “No, it’s not about Jesse.”
    â€œOh, too bad. I thought you were going to tell me something juicy.”
    â€œNo, I was at a party last night. Well, not a party, exactly. Just some kids hanging out at the park.”
    â€œOh yeah?”
    â€œWell, the guys…they were playing this war game, this Nazi war game.”
    â€œThey were WHAT?” I imagine Alexis sitting bolt upright, wide awake.
    â€œI know. It was nuts. They were wearing these Nazi armbands, yelling Heil Hitler ! and pretending to shoot each other.”
    â€œWho? Who?”
    â€œOh, just some guys from school. You don’t know them.”
    â€œOmigod, that’s crazy. What were they thinking?”
    â€œI—I don’t know.”
    â€œAnd these guys are your friends?”
    â€œWell, sort of. We hang out with them at school.”
    â€œWow, that’s crazy. What are you going to do?”
    â€œI dunno.”
    â€œYou have to tell someone,” Alexis announces.
    I groan. “Tell who what?”
    â€œI don’t know. Your parents or the school. They can’t make fun of what the Nazis did.”
    â€œI’m not sure telling someone is a great idea.”
    â€œLauren, it’s not an option. You have to tell. It’s anti-Semitism.”
    â€œBut if they don’t know the Nazis killed Jews, is it still anti-Semitic?”
    â€œThat’s beside the point. You have to tell someone.”
    â€œWell, um, I’ll think about it.”
    â€œPromise?”
    â€œI said I’d think about it. Anyway, I should go now.”
    â€œHey, what about that Jesse guy?”
    I freeze. “What about him?”
    â€œYou guys still talk?”
    â€œSometimes.”
    â€œOh, that’s good. Text me later.”
    I put down my phone and roll over in bed. Tell someone. Yeah, right. Fat lot of good that would do. People would get all upset about anti-Semitism and talk about how the Holocaust could happen again anytime. Alexis can get very worked up about hate crimes against Jews, none of which seem to be happening anywhere near us. It’s true that Jews were treated like crap in Europe for centuries, but things in North America look pretty good for Jews these days. I know you can still find Holocaust deniers and people claiming that Jews drink Christian baby blood, but you can also find people who say the earth is flat and global warming is a myth. Besides, in our own lives, in Canada, none of that anti-Semitic stuff is happening—not like in the past anyway. Now Jews own land, join country clubs and attend any university they like. People get riled up about Israel, but to my mind, that’s political, not religious. The guys at school are idiots, but anti-Semitic? I