I met Ofra and Shula on the way home from school. I haven’t told you yet about Ofra because I swore to Reuven to keep it a secret and not to mention her—even in my dreams. But now, after what happened, there is no point to keeping the secret anymore. Even though I wish that none of this had happened, I can’t turn the clock back.
I have mentioned that Reuven was the class genius, but this was not one hundred percent accurate. Reuven was, no question, the best student among the boys. But there was someone who was even better. Actually better than any of us. That person was Ofra, who sat with Shula right in front of Reuven and me.
If you had asked me if she was pretty, I’d have to say that she looked pleasant enough, but she was not the prettiest. Aviva, Reuven’s sister, is much prettier. Ofra was dark-skinned with smooth black hair and brown Bambi-like eyes. I realize that comparing the eyes of a girl named Ofra (which means “fawn” in Hebrew) to Bambi sounds a little silly, but she really did have huge, innocent eyes like a young deer. She also had two tiny dimples on her cheeks when she smiled, and Ofra smiled most of the time. That wasn’t the most surprising thing on earth. She got A-plus on all her tests, and even our teacher Mr. Goldberg, who was always scowling and grouchy, said that she was solid as a rock and the best of the best. The strangest thing about her was her notebooks. You would expect that such an excellent student would have nicely organized notebooks filled with neat, round handwriting. Ofra’s notebooks looked as if some Egyptian scribes had practiced their hieroglyphs in them. She hardly ever wrote down anything in class and most of the time just drew or doodled in her notebook. And yet, she was the best student in the school.
I am telling you all this because Reuven’s big secret, which I swore to keep, was that he really had a crush on Ofra. From the first moment he saw her in the classroom, when he passed her on the way to his seat next to me, he was crazy over her.
“When I grow up, I’m going to marry her,” he once told me.
“Really? I thought you were going to marry me.” I laughed. “Besides, everyone knows that Iraqis and Yemenis hate each other, and Ofra, if you haven’t noticed, is Yemeni, and you are Iraqi.”
“They also say that Iraqis like to beat up Ashkenazi Jews. But you don’t see me breaking your bones, do you? So everything they say isn’t true, is it?”
Reuven could laugh about anything, as long as it wasn’t about Ofra. In her presence, he become awkward and clumsy, and all his natural charm just faded away to nothing.
At this point, Ofra and Shula walked up to me.
“Where’s your boyfriend ?” asked Shula, the school’s biggest gossip, with a smirk. “How come you’re not side by side? Has the lovey-dovey couple broken up?” Shula was making fun of me.
“Cut it out. Leave him alone,” Ofra said to her. Then she smiled at me. “But, really, where is he?”
“He went home,” I said and prepared to continue on my way.
“Are you really such good friends?” asked Ofra. I had no idea why she was asking me this.
“Yup. I’m his best friend,” I said proudly.
“Tell me,” said Ofra, touching me lightly. “Did I do something to offend him? He acts like he can’t stand me. He is always ignoring me.”
I should have kept my mouth shut! I shouldn’t have answered! I should have run away! But it seemed that the genes I inherited from my father, who could go on and on babbling forever, reigned supreme. At that moment, I didn’t think about the disastrous consequences that would follow, and I blurted out, “What do you mean ‘ignoring’? He loves you! He told me he wants to marry you!” As soon as the words left my mouth, I wanted to suck them back in. I tried to repair the damage, but what came out of my mouth next just made things worse.
“But that’s a secret. I shouldn’t have told you.” This was a more serious blunder than my first slip-up. Because not only had I revealed Reuven’s big secret, but I had done so in the presence of Shula, or “Blabbermouth Betty,” as we called her. If anyone ever wanted to broadcast some information, all they had to do was to whisper it to Shula and imply that it was a big secret. By the next day, everyone in Ramat Gan would know about it for sure.
Ofra blushed and smiled softly, which was totally different from the squeals of delight that were coming from Shula. “Reuven loves Ofra! Woo-hoo! But I swear not to tell,” she added when she saw Ofra glaring at her.