Next Year in Israel Read Online Free

flight landed and we reached the customs line, cliques were forming, and I felt as though I needed to start making friends. Jordyn was nowhere in sight, so I walked up to the best candidate I had for a friend.
    “Hey,” Mia said before I had chance to talk. “Look at the soldiers everywhere.”
    It was more security than I had ever seen at an American airport. Two armed soldiers watched us from their lookout spot by the bathrooms. Three more patrolled around the lines, their machine guns casually slung over their shoulders, like they were welcoming us to a party. One soldier was talking to the boys in line. He looked up and gave us a thumbs-up. The female soldier next to him nodded. She had a gun too. At least the guns weren’t pointed at us—and, to be honest, they seemed like scenery props. People were coming and going as if the soldiers weren’t there, as if the rifles were merely paint on the wall.
    “You can butt in line with me,” Mia said.
    I pushed my luggage cart around. “Thanks.” Everything would be fine. Mia and I were just about friends.
    “That soldier by the water fountain is drop-dead gorgeous.” It was Jordyn’s voice, strong and confident. “I’m not hooking up with an American.”
    I looked away from her, to the water fountain. The soldier smiled at her.
    Maybe Jordyn’s earlier snub hadn’t been intended? It could have been new-school anxiety, or a sneer meant for her sister. Best to pretend it didn’t happen.
    “The guys at the end of the line are with us,” Mia said. “Who’s good-looking?”
    I strained my neck, trying to see around the luggage carts. “I can’t see.”
    A fiftyish-looking woman walked up to us. “Hi, girls. I’m Leah, the program director,” she addressed us in a motherly voice. “Lovely day, now that we’re all here. When you get through the queue, stand under the American Program sign.”
    I loved her British accent and black hair in a bun.
    As we waited under the American Program sign, Jordyn flipped her hair and smiled at the boys from our school. My stomach stopped rumbling. Next to her, I wasn’t that much of a mess. We were both blessed with tall thin bodies; the main difference between us was in our bones. Her broad shoulders gave her a stunning presence. My own small frame and delicate shoulders were almost inconspicuous.
    “I’m just dating Israelis,” Jordyn said.
    “Israeli, American. Whatever.” Mia waved at a guy who had black curly hair. “He stepped on my foot on the airplane.”
    Should I toss my head or smile? Acting like I was a beautiful jock or a modern flower child would have been a stretch, since I didn’t have perfect hair, Birkenstocks, and an attitude. I lowered my chin, annoyed at myself. My makeover was supposed to be starting, yet there I was stalling, the mounds of fear oozing inside of me.
    ~ * * * ~
    Outside the bus window, I was awed by the palm trees and contemporary stucco buildings. There were soldiers everywhere on the roads. Some waved and smiled at us when we passed their jeep convoy. Four soldiers were walking toward a bus stop further down the road. Two of them were women, and they stood between the men, laughing at an inside joke.
    “Your school is called a kfar ,” Leah said into the microphone. “It’s also a school of agriculture for five hundred Israeli students. You’ll be working side by side with them.”
    I laughed to myself, because the only job I’d worked before was baby-sitting. The kfar brochure had clearly stated that we’d be working on the farm, and it was discussed in the interview.
    I didn’t have a problem with living on a farm. I was willing to do just about anything to get away from my old life, even harvest dirt from the ground.
    Leah turned up the microphone. “A few rules. Curfew is eight PM, and you’ll be checked on by me every night. Anyone who breaks curfew or violates the no drug or alcohol policy will be sent home immediately. I’ll read the list of room