her fists. “Wants me to cross-post, do more videos, message more celebrities. DM Oprah—can you imagine?”
Mom chuckles without looking up.
“And he’s texting me thirty times a day. Driving me batty.”
I pour a mug of coffee, grabbing a bagel from the bread box before settling in next to Mom at the table. “Are you talking about Gabe?”
“I swear, bubalah. I’m this close to blocking him.”
“He was really intense at the campaign office yesterday. I guess he’s pretty stressed about the election.”
“Oh, I know.” Grandma joins us at the table. “Don’t mind me. I’m just being a grouch.”
“No, you’re totally right. He needs to chill.”
Grandma rubs my arm. “How are you doing, sweetheart? So, you were at the campaign office yesterday? Good for you.”
Mom looks up from her laptop, meeting my eyes. “I really am so impressed, Jamie. All this canvassing.”
“Well, we didn’t actually knock on any doors yesterday,” I admit. “But we will! Right now we’re working on flyers to push back against H.B. 28. Maya came up with the whole concept—it’s pretty brilliant. We’re FaceTiming tonight to finalize the design, and then we’re meeting at Target tomorrow to start handing them out.”
“Oh, wow,” Grandma says. “At Target? Are you sure that’s allowed?”
“It’s worth a try. We’re starting small,” I add quickly. “Just local places. But eventually we want to hand them out at Emory, Tech, Georgia State, and Kennesaw. We really just want to educate people. And Maya was thinking—”
I catch Mom smiling.
“What?”
Mom’s eyebrows shoot up. “Nothing.”
I pause. “Anyway, we’re hoping to put more pressure on people to make phone calls. No one ever calls state legislators, so if we flood their phones, that could really have an impact. I may even shout it out at Sophie’s reception during the toast.”
“Jamie.”
“Actually, we could bring flyers to the reception! And I could mention it in the toast. We could do both.”
Mom and Grandma exchange quick glances.
“Jamie,” Mom says slowly. “I’m glad you’re resisting the bill, and frankly, I’m glad you’re thinking about the toast—but are you sure your sister’s bat mitzvah is the right moment for that?”
“Why not? There will be a hundred and fifty people there! I’ll have a captive audience. I can shout out the Rossum campaign too, and remind everyone about the election date. And even Sophie’s friends can make phone calls—”
“Jamie, no.” Mom presses her lips together. “That wouldn’t be appropriate. You’re a cohost of this event. And it’s about Sophie, not politics.”
My cheeks flush. “But H.B. 28 isn’t about politics! That’s the hijab bill. It’s a human rights issue. You can’t just pretend this stuff doesn’t exist because we’re at a party. The election is three days after Sophie’s bat mitzvah!”
“I get it! I do. H.B. 28 is completely vile,” Mom says, nodding. “But sweetie, there will be other opportunities to protest. Your sister’s bat mitzvah isn’t just a party. It’s a really important moment for her—”
“But—”
“End of discussion,” Mom says. She turns back to her laptop.
I set my mug down with a clank and stand so abruptly, I startle Boomer. I can’t remember the last time I’ve been this furious at my mom.
“End of discussion? Seriously? You’re the one who goes on and on about political action, and how important the Rossum race is. You’re the one who made me canvass in the first place! So, what, it’s important to care, but only sometimes?”
“That’s not fair. Jamie, you have to remember, we’re hosting—”
“Really?” I fake gasp. “We’re hosting a bat mitzvah? Wow, it must have slipped my notice. Guess I haven’t run any errands recently—”
“Sweetheart.” Grandma sets a hand on my shoulder.
Mom looks up at me, stunned. “Jamie, what is this? Talking back? That’s not like you.”
My chest tightens. “I’m not—”
“Maybe Gabe isn’t the only one who needs to chill out a little,” says Mom.
“You think I’m like Gabe?”
“No, Jamie.” She snaps her laptop shut. “This isn’t worth fighting over, honey. We’re all on the same team here. I know it’s been a lot, and you’re under tons of pressure. Maybe you should take some time off from canvassing.”
“Time off from canvassing? The election is in eleven days!”
“I know, I know.” Mom peers at me. “But Jamie, I’ve never seen you this upset. Yes, it’s an important election, but you have to take care of yourself too. It’s just not sustainable otherwise. Why don’t you and Maya have a fun, normal date instead—”
“What are you talking about?” I gape at her. “Maya and I aren’t dating.”
Mom flips her palms up defensively. “Okay. I just thought,