Playing With Matches (26 page)

The outfit was Mrs. Levine Classic. In fact, I recognized her green dress. It was the same outfit that she wore when I met her in her office last Thursday. Mrs. Levine wore a necklace that prominently hung from her turtleneck. I inched over behind her desk and studied the photograph.

It was an unusual necklace; the pendant was gold and seemed to be shaped like an animal. I leaned in and squinted at the necklace and felt the hairs on the back of my neck prickling. No. It couldn’t be.

It was an elephant.

There were three rubies on the gold elephant.

Impossible. This was impossible.

There were four Hebrew letters engraved in the gold. Hebrew for Esther.

Blood rushed like rapids through my body as the reality of the situation flooded me.

Mrs. Levine
was Esther. Matchmaven’s Esther.

chapter 29

Playing with Matches

My feet froze like they were sealed inside two buckets of concrete.

No. No. It couldn’t be.

If Mrs. Levine was Esther, then who were these children and grandchildren? Esther hadn’t remarried, and she definitely never had kids. I scanned Mrs. Levine’s sparse office, but there was nothing to indicate her first name anywhere. There were no diplomas or awards on her desk or walls. A pile of papers nestled in a metal tray. I glanced up at the doorway. Mrs. Abrams, the secretary, was chatting on the phone and the reception area was empty. I inched toward the tray, blocking the line of sight to the outer office with my body.

The letter on top of the tray was from a board member, but wasn’t addressed with her first name. I rifled through the papers underneath, but couldn’t find anything there either.

I stepped back from behind the desk just as Mrs. Abrams poked her head in the office again.

“Rain, Mrs. Levine has a school emergency. There are some broken pipes in the boiler room. She said to let you know that you can leave now.”

“Thank you,” I mumbled. Mrs. Abrams turned to leave.

“Mrs. Abrams?” I asked in a halting voice, pointing to the cluster of family photos on Mrs. Levine’s desk. “Are these … are these her grandkids?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head sadly. “They’re her sister’s children and grandchildren. Beautiful, aren’t they?” She turned back to the reception area.

I nodded, my mouth hanging open. I stole across the room to the bookshelf, and furtively pulled out a worn Hebrew prayer book, opened it with shaking hands, and read the bookplate.

This book belongs to Esther Levine.

I snapped it shut and returned it to the shelf, my heart pounding so hard it had to be scarring my insides.

It was too much to absorb. As much as Mrs. Levine and I disliked each other, our alter egos had completely connected. Actually both my secret identity and I liked Esther, and Esther and Mrs. Levine liked Matchmaven. It was just Rain and Mrs. Levine who couldn’t stand each other. It was too complicated. We weren’t just two people anymore. We were like a complicated clique of girls.

I needed a vomitorium.

I fled the office. All day I scurried between classes petrified of running into Mrs. Levine in the halls. I felt like I was sealed in a Ziploc baggie of silence, oblivious to everything going on around me. My internal volcano spewed a cascade of emotions and thoughts that alternated between terror and confusion. Deb and Ilana had figured out who I was. What if Mrs. Levine discovered Matchmaven’s real identity? She’d be humiliated — and furious that she had confided in me.

When I opened my inbox that night, of course there was another lovely email from Esther. That would be Esther the elegant. Esther the intelligent. Esther the soft-spoken friend. But Mrs. Levine, the cold and heartless? How could they be the same person?

It was like mixing equal parts nail polish and nail polish remover.

It had never occurred to me that fixing people up was like playing with matches. Running away was looking like a mighty fine option right now.

I needed an island.

Quickly.

Dear Matchmaven,

I hope you’re doing well. Thank you for the advice about a present for Mo. Meeting him has been a gift. I know you’re overwhelmed, but hold on. Good things happen in the end. I hope that work issue resolves itself for you soon. I have some challenging issues at work too, but I’m so much more optimistic about everything! There were some facility problems today. And I’ve got a lovely young individual who has tremendous potential but is somewhat self-destructive. She has such a lovely spirit, though. I know that everyone has to make their own mistakes, but it’s hard to watch. I guess it all comes back to second chances. And I’m grateful you gave me one.

Best regards,

Esther

I thought of the previous email I had sent to her referring to problems she was giving me. I had complained about Mrs. Levine to Mrs. Levine.

I had no idea how to talk to her anymore. Especially because the discussion was veering toward an awkward topic: me. It’s not like I was going to argue with her about me not
really
being self-destructive. That was the thing about Matchmaven. Except for the fact that it was all falling apart, it was actually a fantastic surveillance system that fed me information that I never would have learned otherwise.

Leah and Mrs. Levine had told Matchmaven insights about me that I couldn’t have learned, because people just don’t say these things to your face.

Even when your face needs it.

It was pretty amazing to realize that living a double life could actually lead you to the truth about yourself. But the problem is that as awesome as it can be for your emotional growth, it’s not so great for your relationships. In some ways, the secrecy in my life was my friend; it allowed me to connect with Leah and with Esther and gave me the ability to try to help them and other people.

But all the good things were making me look very bad. Thanks to Matchmaven, Leah and Mrs. Levine had a low opinion of me, and who could blame them? Because of Matchmaven’s activities, Leah thought I was stalking her and getting into trouble, and Mrs. Levine thought I was just blowing off my studies and didn’t care about school.

I did nothing all evening but compose draft after draft until 11:30, when I finished the email and hit the send button.

Dear Esther,

I’m delighted that things are going so well with you and Mo.

I think sometimes when we suffer regret for our actions it’s hard to watch a younger person make similar mistakes. Maybe this individual just needs to go through her own learning process and that’ll be a thousand times more valuable than any lecture or advice.

Warm regards,

MM

I pulled out the Post-it notes from my drawer and made a new list.

Bad Things that Are Happening to Me:

#1. Leah hates me — it’s permanent now.

#2. Mrs. Levine still hates me.

#3. I’m about to get kicked out of school again.

#4. Mr. Sacks might be dying.

#5. Mrs. Levine IS ESTHER !?!?!?!?

Oy.

chapter 30

Dragon Lady

Everything was so broken now. Especially me.

At this point Leah and I avoided each other like we would a communicable disease. Dahlia was still home with the flu so I was completely on my own.

I was still hoping that Leah would at least contact Matchmaven, so I kept popping into the bathroom all morning to check my email. At lunchtime I passed Shira, Natalie, and Sarah chatting in the hallway just as Mrs. Levine walked by.

“Raina!”

I did a double take. The colour was obviously all wrong,
but Mrs. Levine was wearing lipstick!

“How are your exam preparations coming along?” she said.
Earrings too!

“They’re okay. I’m trying.”

“Oh really?” She smiled slightly.

I repeat. Mrs. Levine smiled at me. I thought about her most recent email.

I’ve got a lovely young individual who has tremendous potential …

“I hope you’ll be focused, Raina. There’s not much time left.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Levine,” I said quietly. Natalie snorted.

I trudged to the bathroom more confused than ever. How was I supposed to make amends with Mr. Sacks? And what was I supposed to do about Mrs. Levine? If she found out I was Matchmaven, it would definitely get back to Mira — then Leah. I sat on the covered toilet and pulled out my phone from my pocket just as a group of familiar voices entered the bathroom.

“Shira, you should have seen Dragon Lady on her way out,” a voice that sounded like Natalie’s said.

“Well, guess what my next Purim costume is,” Shira said. I had a feeling that what she was about to say was going to turn Purim, my favourite holiday of the year, into a personal nightmare. “I’m dressing up as Dragon Lady,” Shira said.

It felt like my heart was clattering inside me. What if Esther found out? I’m sure she had no idea that the girls saw her as mean. It would be so embarrassing. What if Esther started wearing her necklace more often, I thought with rising panic. And what if Shira found a silly plastic elephant as part of her costume?

I shot a glance at my cell phone. I’d been trapped in there for four minutes but it felt like four epochs.

“That is brilliant,” Natalie said, as all three of them burst out laughing. “Everyone at school is going to love it.”

I clenched my fists. She was right. The entire student body would talk about Shira’s horrible Dragon Lady costume for years to come.

“I’m going to the Salvation Army store, I swear I’m doing this, and I’m going to get an old lady outfit,” Shira was saying, struggling to spit out the words through her laughter. “Then I’m going to stuff a pillow in my butt and another pillow down my top.”

If this costume included the elephant necklace, the most private detail of Mrs. Levine’s history would become the subject of knee-slapping hilarity on the graduation trip, year-end parties, and in yearbook signings.

“You should have heard her talking to Resnick,” Natalie said.
“Oh, I hope you’ll be focused, Raina. Because your life will be completely ruined and you’ll end up homeless.”

“You know what my father told me?” Sarah said. “He’s been at board meetings at ten o’clock at night and she’s still in her office. That woman obviously has no life.”

You have no idea.

“She’s totally pathetic,” Shira said.
“Girls, we care so very deeply about your development as individuals and students, we’ve decided to cancel all extracurricular activities, and keep you at school until ten at night so you can be as miserable as I am.”

Natalie chimed in on the fun.
“Misery is in the student handbook, girl. Have you read it again today?”

I considered rising to Mrs. Levine’s defence but decided that it was better not to incite the micro-mob here.

As an ex-Shira myself, I knew that all too well.