Free The Truth About My Bat Mitzvah by Nora Raleigh Baskin

sense everyone tensing. Hoping to avoid something unpleasant. Hoping it would all go away.
    But this was unpleasant and it wasn’t going to go away.
    â€œWell…,” Lauren lilted. “Rachel has blond hair for one thing.”
    â€œSo what?” I snapped back.
    I’m Jewish, I could say. And I find what you are saying very insulting.
    But then again, I wasn’t really Jewish, was I? I didn’t know anything about it. You’re not even having a bat mitzvah. Laurencould say that, couldn’t she? She could say all that. And she’d be right.
    â€œSo she’s blond,” Lauren went on. “And her nose, you know…”
    â€œWhat about it?” I asked. I had no idea what she meant or what Lauren was going to say.
    â€œHer nose is so small,” Lauren said. “It’s a compliment, for Pete’s sake, Caroline. Lighten up.”
    I felt my hand rise up and touch my nose. My hair was not blond. It was dark and curly. Was this what I wanted? If not looking Jewish was a compliment, then what was Lauren saying? It didn’t feel good. It was scary.
    I opened my eyes as wide as I could, letting every available bit of light inside. I could now make out Lauren, now lying down on her pillow. Her arms folded over her chest. What is darkness, after all? A measure of what is missing.
    Maybe all you had to do was look more closely, open wide your eyes.
    Rachel still wasn’t saying anything.
    â€œA compliment?” My voice was loud. I knew Lauren’s mother might walk in. Or her father. Someone might come and tell us all to settle down, but it would be me they would be talking to. I was the one sitting up.
    With my fists tight. My big mouth open.
    Lauren must have had the same worry. She had her other guests to consider. Her mother. Her party’s reputation.
    â€œListen, Caroline, it’s none of your business,” Lauren said.
    â€œIt’s sure not your business,” I shot back.
    â€œLook, I liked the invitation, Caroline,” Lauren went on. “I just said I didn’t know she was Jewish. Big deal. Anyway, I didn’t wantto invite you to my sleepover in the first place. Your friend Rachel made me. So there.”
    I was stunned.
    Defeated on two fronts, and it was all over.
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    Nobody talked any more the rest of the night. The hours and minutes glowed one after another every time I pressed the display on my cell phone. But eventually, I fell asleep. When I woke up, the first thing I felt was that little ball of cotton. It must have stayed pressed to my skin when I took off my clothes and got into pajamas the night before. I had forgotten about it and now it was stuck to my cheek.
    I pulled it off. It was flat and flecked with little bits of lint from the inside of my sleeping bag, but it was still strongly scented. I held it to my nose.
    And wanted to cry.
    But I waited.
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    Rachel and I hadn’t talked much in the morning. Lauren acted as if nothing had happened. We had blueberry pancakes with natural maple syrup from some farm stand in Vermont, which personally I hate. I like the stuff in the plastic bottle with the picture of the woman with the kerchief on her head, smiling at me.
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    When I got home, I ran upstairs to my room, shut the door, and landed on my bed. And then I cried.

22
    Just When I Thought I Couldn’t Take One More Thing
    My head was spinning. I didn’t know what I was more upset about, getting into a fight, trying to be something I didn’t even know I wanted to be, or how embarrassed I felt when Lauren said what she said.
    No, I knew.
    I was more upset that everyone heard I hadn’t really been invited to Lauren’s party. So I had been right. Lauren never wanted to invite me.
    I was a loser, and now I was a loser and a phony. A poser. And a horrible friend because I embarrassed myself and Rachel. What would I say to Rachel, after I had ruined our chances of ever getting invited to an