Not because I did anything wrong. But because someone has knocked them over.

  Cookie looks up at me with her big, wide eyes. She has no idea that she just messed up the dreidel spinning.

  “Cookie! Can’t you see I’m spinning dreidels?” I scold her.

  I don’t want to be mad at my cat, but maybe I am, just a little.

  Of course, Cookie only meows at me. Well, now I can’t be mad at all. Dreidel-spinning contests just aren’t very important to cats.

  I give her a pat on the head. “Good girl,” I say in my very sweetest voice. “Even though I was about to beat Aaron and you ruined it.”

  Aaron laughs at me. “Yeah, I don’t think so, Rachey.”

  “I totally was!” I insist.

  I was not going to beat him, and we both know it. But he doesn’t point that out, which is nice of him. And also weird.

  Still, as I put away the dreidels, I realize something. A very, very important something. Aaron did a Hanukkah thing with me! Even if he is annoying, I’m glad that he did.

  Now I know the eighth thing to put on my list: Get Aaron to admit that Hanukkah is fun.

  CHAPTER 10

  A Trip to the Park

  The next few days of Hanukkah go by, and I still haven’t finished most of the things on my list. Not even the latkes! Dad says we’ll do them on the last night. I just hope he doesn’t forget the potatoes again. I need to prove to Mason and everyone else that Hanukkah is awesome, and I can’t do that without latkes!

  Today is the fifth day, and Dad took off from work for “family time.” That means it’s the perfect chance to do another thing on my list.

  So when Dad asks me and Aaron what we want to do, I know my answer right away. “Skating! Please, pretty, pretty please! And also, please?”

  Dad looks at Aaron. I am not surprised when Aaron makes one of his faces. Again.

  “Do we have to?” he complains. “I’m not a sports type like Rachel, you know.”

  “Sure, but you don’t need to be sportsy to enjoy a few hours of skating.” Dad rubs his forehead. “How about this? We skate in the morning, and then in the afternoon we go to the science museum.”

  “I guess that works,” Aaron says. But he sounds like someone who just agreed to eat a jar full of rotten gefilte fish.

  My whole mission to get Aaron to admit that Hanukkah is fun seems like it might be kind of hard. But that’s okay! There is nothing in the whole world that I can’t do.

  When we arrive at the park, everything is still covered in Christmas decorations. Even though Christmas was three whole days ago. I don’t see any Hanukkah decorations at all. I’m used to this. But I can’t help but frown.

  Why is everything always Christmas, Christmas, Christmas for two months a year?

  “Looks like someone forgot that Christmas is over,” Aaron says.

  Finally, we agree on something.

  “I know!” I say. “Why can’t the park have decorations for other holidays, too?”

  Aaron shrugs. “People really like Christmas, I guess.”

  I think back to Mason and all the things he said to me. The memory of it makes me mad. Christmas isn’t a better holiday just because more people celebrate it or because there’s Christmas stuff everywhere! Hanukkah is still better, and I am going to prove it.

  Even if things haven’t gone exactly to plan so far.

  Dad squeezes me on the shoulder. “I felt left out around Christmas when I was your age, too. It can be a little strange when so many people are celebrating a holiday and you aren’t.”

  “I don’t feel left out!” I protest. Except I kind of do. “Well, maybe I do. Just a little bit. But it’s only because the Christmas stuff is everywhere!”

  “Yeah, it can be annoying,” Dad agrees. “I try to focus on how pretty the lights are and not think so much about that other stuff, but you’re right. There should be more decorations for Hanukkah and Kwanzaa and every other holiday. Sometimes the world isn’t fair.”

  At least my dad agrees with me. Feeling a bit better about the whole thing, I grab my ice skates and grin at Dad and Aaron. “Beat you to the rink!” I shout.

  CHAPTER 11

  At Top Speed

  Gymnastics is my sport, but I also love skating. Love it! I step on the ice the very moment I finish tying up the laces to my skates.

  I’m a little wobbly at first, since it’s been so long since I’ve skated. But I remember how to do everything pretty quick, and soon I’m whizzing around the rink. The wind flaps against my face, and my hair starts to slip out of its ponytail. I don’t mind. I am skating!

  When I finish my second lap, I notice Dad. He’s at the edge of the rink, moving so slowly that he might as well be standing still. I race over to him.

  “Da-ad! You can go faster than that.”

  He smiles at me but looks a little nervous. Like he really can’t work up the energy to smile right now.

  “I don’t know about that, honey-bear,” he says. “You might not have noticed, but your dad is old.”

  Silly Dad! I shake my head at him. “You’re not as old as Grandma, and she skates faster than you do.”

  Dad laughs. “All right, all right. You caught me. I guess I don’t want to fall.”

  “If you fall, you can just get back up again!” I tell him, because duh. “That’s what Coach Kayla always says. You have to go for it, Dad.”

  Dad looks around the ice and then nods. “Well, I can’t question the wisdom of Coach Kayla. How about you hold my hand, Rachey?”

  I grab Dad’s hand, and together we skate around the rink. While I don’t go as fast as I normally would, at least Dad is no longer moving at the speed of a sleepy turtle.

  I really wish Maya were here, just like we’d planned. We would have so much fun together. I know it. But she told me in a text that she doesn’t want to risk passing on germs to anyone, even though she’s feeling better. Still, even without Maya, things are almost fantabulous.

  The only problem is my brother. Again. Instead of skating like someone who actually wants to have fun, he’s sitting on a bench outside the rink. And he’s on his phone. Again.

  “Come on!” I call over to him. “You have to join the Hanukkah spirit!”

  “Skating has nothing to do with Hanukkah,” he grumbles. “The original story happened in the desert.”

  “I know that,” I say. Ugh! The way Aaron acts sometimes, it’s like he thinks I don’t know anything about anything. But I go to Hebrew school, and sometimes I even pay attention. “In case you didn’t notice, we’re not in the desert. We’re in New Jersey, where there is ice and snow! Why do you not like having fun?”

  Aaron fidgets with his hands, and glances at the ice skates sitting next to him. “I don’t know…”

  “Come on! Unless you think you can’t do it,” I say.

  Of course Aaron knows how to skate. I only said that to get him riled up, as Dad would say. And it works.

  He starts shoving his skates on his feet. “Fine. But only so I can race you. And beat you.”

  “You are not going to beat me!” I say.

  Aaron laughs. But he gets on the ice.

  CHAPTER 12

  On Thin Ice

  “Dad is the judge,” I say once Aaron makes it to the center of the rink. “He can be fair and … what’s the word for it? Impactful?”

  Aaron rolls his eyes. “Impartial. The word you mean is impartial.”

  “Whatever! Anyway, the rules are, we go from one end of the rink to the other. And no cheating!”

  I had to add that part, because Aaron can be a terrible, horrible cheater.

  “How would I even cheat at a race?” Aaron asks.

  I don’t answer. Instead, I skate toward the place where the race is going to begin. Aaron catches up with me a moment later.

  “We go when I count to three,” he says.

  “What?” I demand. “Why do you get to do the count?”

  He rolls his eyes. “Like it even matters.”

  “It matters!”

  “Fine,” he says. “We’ll count together.”

  And we do.

  “One…,” we chant.

  I dig my skates into the ice.

  “Two … THREE!”

  I take off.

  I’m gliding forward at top speed. But so is Aaron. I have quicker feet, but Aaron’s legs are longer. A lot longer. Pretty soon, he’s flown ahead of me. I can see his earmuffs getting farther and farther away.

  No! I can’t let him win.

  I bend down. Maybe Aaron is taller than me, but there are good things about being short. I allow the wind to carry me, and soon we’re almost neck and neck.

  “Hello!” I say to him. “Nice to see you here.”

  “Even nicer to say goodbye,” Aaron tells me.

  We’re about ten feet away from Dad. He waves his arm at the finishing point. I take a deep breath. My legs are tired, but I force them to go on anyway. I’m almost there!

  Aaron slides across the finish line about five seconds before me. He turns and grins as I skate by.

  “I guess maybe I can skate a little,” he says.

  “You only won because you’re taller!” I protest.

  “Wow, Rachey. You sure are good at being a sore loser.”

  I stick my tongue out at him.

  Dad shakes his head. “Cut it out, crew.” He wobbles in his skates. “I think I’ve reached my limit for today. I’m getting off the ice. Try not to kill each other without me, please.”

  “I can babysit Rachel,” Aaron promises while Dad takes tiny steps toward the edge of the rink.

  He’s only teasing me, but I don’t like it. Aaron is not my babysitter. I want to come up with a smart response. But just as I open my mouth to deliver it, I notice something. Aaron isn’t paying attention to me at all anymore. He’s looking at someone else—a red-headed girl in a green jacket. She’s skating with a bunch of other girls. They all look like they’re close to Aaron’s age.

  “Hi, Aaron!” the girl says. “Wow. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

  It takes Aaron a long time to respond, and when he does he sounds kind of weird. Squeaky. “H-hi, Miranda,” he says. “Um. Nice to see you. Hi.”

  One of Miranda’s friends giggles and pokes her in the ribs. Aaron stares at his skates. Well, all of this is super boring. I don’t know these girls, and obviously they’re not Aaron’s friends if he can’t find anything to say to them other than “Um. Nice to see you. Hi.”

  This is supposed to be family time. Aaron should pay attention to me. I nudge him on the shoulder.

  “Race you one more time!” I say.

  He doesn’t respond, so I grab him and pull on his arm. Because I’m here and he needs to know it.

  But I guess this surprises him. Because Aaron falls over onto the ice, taking me with him.

  CHAPTER 13

  The Worst Day of Hanukkah

  “Blech! Argh!” Aaron says. Or at least that’s close to what he says. It’s kind of hard to understand the sounds he’s making.

  “Oh no!” I say. “Ack!”

  When I said before that falling wasn’t so bad, I had forgotten something very, very important. I fall all the time when I do gymnastics. But in gymnastics, there’s always a nice, soft mat to catch me. Now there’s just cold, hard ice. My butt stings with the cold and soreness.

  I think maybe I don’t love ice-skating. At least not right now.

  I force myself to get up. The ice feels cold and icky on my hands, but at least I manage to move. That’s when I look at Aaron.

  He is not getting up. In fact, he has curled into himself and is now moaning.

  “Aaron!” Miranda cries. “Are you okay?”

  He speaks through gritted teeth. “I’m fine. Completely and totally fine.”

  Only he isn’t. Miranda and one of her friends have to help him off the ice because his leg is so hurt. He doesn’t even look at me as he hobbles away.

  “I’m sorry,” I say out loud. “I am so, so sorry. The sorriest.”

  I don’t know if he even hears me, but I have to say it.

  The moment Aaron gets off the ice, Dad announces that we’re going to the emergency room so a doctor can look at Aaron’s leg. Ice-skating is over. And it’s all my fault.

  * * *

  The doctor says that Aaron broke his leg. Now he’s walking with crutches and a great big cast.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you,” I say on our way home from the hospital. I’ve said this about a bajillion times, but it couldn’t hurt to say it a bajillion and one.

  Aaron just grunts. Dad looks over at me.

  “I think you need to give Aaron some time,” he says in a whisper. “His leg is hurting, and he’s embarrassed.”

  “Huh? Why is he embarrassed?” I wonder out loud.

  After all, it’s not like Aaron is to blame for falling. That was me. I bite my lip so hard it hurts.

  When Dad answers me, he whispers again: “Falling in front of the girl he likes was hard for him.”

  At first I don’t understand what Dad means, but then I get it. Oh. Aaron likes Miranda the redhead. That’s why he acted so weird around her. And that’s why falling in front of Miranda and her friends embarrassed him.

  “I’m sorry,” I say again.

  But Aaron still doesn’t answer me.

  Now I’m the one who ruined Hanukkah.

  CHAPTER 14

  The New Story of Hanukkah

  The sixth night of Hanukkah is pretty much the worst. Aaron takes a medicine that makes him sleepy. So at least I don’t have to talk with him again. But I still feel bad. Really, really, really bad.

  Dad and I don’t even bother lighting the menorah. That feels wrong to me, but I don’t think I’d want to do it without Aaron.

  I need to fix things. But how? I can’t magically make Aaron’s broken leg better.

  Still, an idea pops into my head. A really good one! It gets bigger and bigger until I think I might burst from all the excitement.

  First, I gather up my art supplies. Then I get to work.

  As a Hanukkah present to Aaron, I draw a comic book: Aaron Friedman and the New Story of Hanukkah. This story isn’t about the Maccabees. It’s about Aaron and me and the fun things we did this week. I fill up pages and pages with drawings. Our family lights the menorah on the very first night. Aaron shows me how to spin a dreidel while Cookie gets ready to pounce. Aaron wins our race when we skate in the park. (But I don’t draw the part where he fell.)

  I draw quickly, so maybe my work isn’t the neatest thing ever. But a few hours later, I’m done. Now I need to give it to Aaron. I staple the pages together and slip the book under his door.

  Hopefully it’s enough.

  * * *

  The next morning, Aaron wakes up really late. His crutches clang loudly while he walks down the stairs.

  Aaron sags into the couch and pulls his broken leg up so that it lies flat.

  “Did you get your present?” I blurt out.

  He actually smiles at me! “Yep,” he says. “I got it.”

  That’s a good sign. It has to be. I start to feel a whole lot better.

  “I really am sorry that you got hurt,” I tell him. “And also that I embarrassed you in front of the girl you like.”

  Aaron squishes his face up like he has a question.

  “How did you know I like Miranda?” he asks.

  “Dad told me.”

  He rolls his eyes. “I guess Dad can read minds. And also he has a big mouth.”

  I agree about both of those things. But Aaron still hasn’t accepted my apology. Does that mean it isn’t good enough?

  “Are you mad at me?” I ask.

  Aaron moves his leg a bit and looks up at me. “How can I be mad at you when you made me the star of my very own comic book?”

  I bounce in place. “You read the whole thing?”

  “Duh. It was pretty good.”

  Coming from Aaron, that means my comic was great! I feel way, way better about everything. Like maybe I didn’t totally and completely ruin Hanukkah.

  “‘A long, long time ago, the Maccabees fought a war, and there was a miracle and stuff,’” Aaron says. That’s exactly what I wrote at the beginning of my comic! He remembers it! “‘But this isn’t a story about that. This is another story about Hanukkah.’ Pretty good stuff, Rachey!”

  “I thought so, too!”

  Aaron snorts. “Well, don’t start to get too much of a big head or anything. But I liked it.”

  “Thank you,” I say. Because I am very polite. I don’t mean to say anything else, but I start speaking again. “I just wish it could have been a better Hanukkah, you know? I really, really wanted this Hanukkah to be perfect. I even made a list, but … things went wrong. Really, really wrong.”

  Aaron sits up straighter on the couch. “What’s this about a list?” he asks.

  So I explain everything to him. About Mason and what he said. The list I made with Maya. And how absolutely nothing has gone the way I wanted it to.

  For once, Aaron listens to me without interrupting a single time. But when I’m done, he shakes his head. “No offense, Rachey, but that is probably the stupidest thing you have ever told me.”

  And here I thought he was being nice to me! I cross my arms and scowl at him.

  “I am not stupid! I just wanted to prove that Hanukkah is the best holiday. I mean, what’s so great about having a tree in your house, anyway?”

  Aaron doesn’t speak for a long, long time. When he does, he uses his nice voice. For once.

  “Why is it so important to prove that Hanukkah is better than Christmas?” he asks.

  Huh. I would never tell him so, but Aaron asks very good questions. Almost too good. Why did I want to prove that Hanukkah is the best holiday?