Page 24 of You Spin Me

“Like what kind of mess?”

“You know, wrappers and cans everywhere. I think maybe somebody threw up in a trash can.”

“Ew.”

Good job, Cal. Gross the girl out.“Yeah, the office guys are going to be pissed tomorrow.” Now I’m questioning my choice of stories.

“Do a lot of people just show up at the station door?”

“Yeah, they push the buzzer over and over until someone answers. Talia breaks it every once in a while, but someone always fixes it again. A volunteer will usually take their requests off the squawk box out there, but they have strict instructions to never let anyone in who doesn’t have a badge. Unless they’re actually someone’s friends. Gracie brings people in all the time.”

“Do you?”

“Nah, too distracting.”

“But it’s not too distracting to talk to me?”

I can’t help but grin. “I’m sure if you were here in person, I’d be very distracted.”

“I could figure out some ways to distract you.”

The tease under her words tempts me with possibility, but I can’t get my hopes too high. “Anyway, there are fewer people here this late to keep an eye on things. I don’t want to be responsible.”

“Oh, before I forget, I’m done with rehearsal early tomorrow, so I’ll probably go to my family’s for Shabbos. I won’t be driving home late.”

“Shabbos?”

“You might have heard it called Shabbat? It’s the beginning of the Jewish sabbath. We light candles and have a special meal at sundown on Fridays.”

“Right.” The thought of going three whole days without talking to her has me scanning my brain for ideas. The flyer for the DJ marathon this weekend catches my eye. “You know, I’ve got some extra tickets to a club where I’m spinning Saturday. Do you want some?”

“So we could meet up?”

Shit. I have got to learn to think before I speak. “Well, I can’t guarantee that. It’ll be kind of crazy. But I can give you a bunch. You can bring friends.”

“That’d be cool. But if it works out, I’d really like to meet in person.”

O Positive’s “Walk Away Renee” is winding down, giving me an excuse to say good night—as well as a reminder of what I should do with Jess. After quickly giving her the details for Saturday, I say, “Call me tomorrow night if you can, okay? But if not, I’ll have tickets in your name.”

JESS

I’m quite proud that I’ve chosen Shabbat dinner at my sister’s house for my Friday night entertainment instead of a date with a jerk.

My family isn’t particularly religious, but Shabbos is an important gathering time. Since I was little, the scents of chicken soup bubbling on the stove and challah baking in the oven have always wrapped me in the comfort of family. I miss the traditions of the meal when I’m in a show and have to perform every Friday night.

Rehearsal ends at three-thirty, but it gets dark at five, so I don’t have time to go home and change after rehearsal. Instead of the sparkly tops and short skirts I usually wear, I’m in one of the Prudence outfits I’ve come up with from my closet: a maxi skirt from my high school wardrobe paired with low-heeled boots and a long sweater. I’m getting quite comfortable in this character’s look, which is a big change for me.

When I walk in the front door, I’m greeted by the yapping of my sister’s two little dogs followed by the squeals of my two little nieces. I squeeze the girls together, inhaling their sweetness. Someday I’ll have this, too. Even if the price is gaining fifty pounds like my sister did, it’d be worth it.

Somebody’ll have to do some serious tutoring before I can make a Shabbat dinner, though. As my sister has so helpfully reminded me when I’ve tried to help her, you’re only supposed to burn achunkof the challah as a mitzvah, not the whole thing. And that was when I was just heating up bread from the bakery. Luckily for all of us, I don’t have to get anywhere near the kitchen this Friday because my nieces take my hands and drag me up to their room.

On the way, nine-year-old Abigail complains, “Jessie, you haven’t been here in so long!”

Seven-year-old Tamara chimes in, “Yeah, you haven’t even met Fluffy.”

My sister usually keeps me up to date on family news, but she hasn’t said anything about a Fluffy. “I am so embarrassed. Here you have an exchange student visiting from Siberia, and I haven’t even met him.”

Tamara stops halfway up the stairs. “What’s an exchange student?”

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