When the Jew hatred of antizionism and antisemitism gets you down... remember this.
Mark Twain wrote this 45 years before the Holocaust and 50-60 years before pan-Arabism tried and failed to genocide us.
Twice.
Antizionism is a violent hate movement. And we'll survive that too.
And just in case you were wondering, yes. Israel has been preparing for mass aliyah.
Israel already has real-time experience in dealing with such inflows. In 1991, the country airlifted over 14,000 people from Ethiopia in a day and a half.
More recently, some 75,000 immigrants arrived from Russia and Ukraine in the span of months after the war broke out in 2022.
Your own country may not want you anymore, but your people always will.
Percy White’s voice broke the silence inside the car. He was leaning against the steering wheel, one eyebrow raised and his lips pressed in a thin line of amusement.
Y/n lifted her eyes from her notebook, letting a dramatic sigh escape her chest.
“What did I do now?”She stuck out her lower lip in a vain attempt to prove her innocence.
Percy gestured toward the notebook with his chin.
“Instead of constantly drawing Aliyah, you could… I don’t know… talk to her?”
His voice was calm, almost bored, like he was stating the most obvious thing in the world.
Aliyah Ortega.
The crush of her life.
Basically since she could remember.
And honestly? Who could blame her. Aliyah was beautiful: hazel eyes with a warm, gentle shape; a slightly crooked smile that brightened her whole face; long—brown-blonde—hair, soft and glossy.
Y/n bit the inside of her cheek.
Her blood pounded in her ears and that familiar warmth crawled over her skin, settling on her cheeks.
“Are you insane?” she replied, crossing her arms. “I’m a ball of nerves. And she’s… she’s taken.”
Percy snorted and started the car. “And besides… you draw her all the time.”
“I do not!” she protested, even though she definitely did. “I’m just reviewing my old sketches. This one, for example, is from when we first met.”
As she said it, her eyes grew distant, pulling her into a memory from years before.
– FLASHBACK –
The science classroom buzzed with excited voices and colorful backpacks scattered everywhere. The teacher clapped her hands cheerfully to get everyone’s attention.
“Today we’re doing a special experiment!” she announced with a wide smile.
In front of each student sat a perfectly white egg. Y/n stared at it with a mix of fear and curiosity, wondering what exactly she was supposed to do with it.
“You’ll form pairs and take care of your egg as if it were your child!” the teacher explained, voice bright as if this were the most fun activity ever.
Y/n turned toward her desk partner: Jenna Ortega.
The girl sat calmly, focused on the sheet of paper in front of her. At ten years old she already had soft, harmonious features: big brown eyes, shiny black hair brushing her shoulders, cupid-bow lips and lightly tanned skin. The pencil moved between her fingers with natural ease, like the outside world didn’t exist.
Suddenly, the tip of her pencil snapped.
“No…” Jenna whispered with a soft sigh and stood up quietly to look for a sharpener.
Y/n stayed alone. Nervous, hands slightly trembling, heart pounding. She leaned closer to the egg, uncertain, then lifted her gaze.
“Wanna work together?” The voice was gentle, shy.
Y/n turned—and saw Aliyah Ortega.
Jenna’s twin. Similar features but completely different energy: brighter, more outgoing, more radiant. Her brown-golden hair was soft and shiny, her warm smile lit up her face, and her hazel eyes sparkled with curiosity. A thin strawberry-gloss made her lips look shiny.
“Y-yeah…” Y/n murmured, voice trembling. Her heart thudded in the chest.
Aliyah sat next to her, eyes drifting to the egg. “What should we name it?” she asked with a little spark of excitement.
Y/n swallowed. “Eggy?” she proposed timidly.
Aliyah giggled. “Eggy… I like it.”
Then, almost instinctively, she took Y/n’s hand.
“Your moms love you, Eggy.”
Y/n’s heart stopped for a second.
Right then and there, she realized she was gay.
END OF FLASHBACK
“Hey!”
Percy’s voice dragged her back to reality.
“You okay? You’ve been staring into space for ten minutes.”
Y/n blinked. “Yeah, okay… let’s go.”
She opened the car door and got out, slamming it a bit too hard.
Percy caught up.
“You’re coming to the meeting today, right? I’ve gotta work on the presidential campaign with Joy.”
Y/n nodded half-heartedly.“Yeah, yeah.”
They reached the front of the school.
A vandalized wall immediately caught their attention. An upside-down eagle, painted in quick, meaningful strokes. Simple, yet intense. The style was unmistakable: Poison Q. The mysterious artist filling the school with cryptic messages.
Y/n tilted her head, studying the paint lines.
“Nice work, Y/n,” Georgie said as he walked past.
She groaned. “How many times do I have to say it? I’m not Poison Q.”
He smiled, not convinced at all. “Sure. Of course. See you later, Poison Q.”
“Idiot,” she muttered.
Percy laughed and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.“Come on.”
They walked a few steps—then Y/n froze.
Ahead of them, in the crowd, was Aliyah.
Walking with her friends gorgeous as always. Her brown-blonde hair, tied in a high ponytail, bounced at every step. hazel eyes caught the sunlight, glowing warmly. She smiled—that smile that made Y/n forget the world existed.
“It’s in slow motion, isn’t it?” Percy asked, needing no real answer.
“Yeah…” Y/n murmured, smiling like someone hopelessly in love.
“And is there background music?”
“Mmh.”
Percy sighed dramatically.“You’re hopeless.”
He walked ahead. Y/n went to follow—
BAM!
A harsh shoulder-check made her stumble. Her backpack hit the floor with a thud.
“Shit…” a girl groaned.
Y/n turned, rubbing her aching shoulder. She saw Jenna Ortega sitting on the floor, one hand on her elbow, face scrunched in a grimace. Oversized hoodie, black shorts, hood pulled low. Her big brown eyes looked at Y/n with embarrassment and concern.
Jenna hurried to fix her hood.
“I’m sorry… I didn’t see you.”
“It’s fine,” Y/n said with a shy smile—even though she was dying inside.
At her feet lay Jenna’s skateboard. She picked it up, feeling the rough surface under her fingers.
Jenna stood and handed her the backpack.
“Thanks.”
“I’d say that’s a fair trade,” Y/n replied, noticing the little dimples that appeared when Jenna smiled.
Y/n handed back the skateboard. Jenna set it down, one foot already on it, ready to go.
She turned once more.
“So… you’re okay?” she asked softly.
Y/n nodded.“Yeah.”
Jenna smiled briefly, then disappeared into the crowd on her board.
Y/n remained frozen, blinking as if waking from a dream.
(---)
Y/n still couldn’t believe the principal suspected her just because she’d been seen entering the art closet. The whole situation was ridiculous. How could she think she was Poison Q? Yet, as punishment, she’d told her to join a club and, at the same time, investigate the real culprit.
Absurd.
“Hey… it might be your chance to spend time with Aliyah,” Percy teased, smirking.
Y/n glared. “Sure. Because me and sports are best friends.”
Joy laughed and nudged her.“Maybe it won’t be that bad.”
The problem?
The club she’d been assigned to was volleyball.
And the team was led by the Ortega twins: Aliyah—the bright, popular captain— and Jenna, at least ten centimeters shorter but infinitely more intimidating.
When Y/n entered the gym with the newcomers, Coach Méndez looked genuinely surprised.
“Y/n? Didn’t think… well, that you were interested.”
She sighed.“I’m not.”
Her eyes immediately fell on the twins. Standing side by side at the court’s edge, they were impossible to ignore: Aliyah, taller, hair tied up, naturally smiling; Jenna, shorter, black shorts, kneepads, a loose shirt hanging on her small but athletic frame. Her dark hair pulled into a low, neat ponytail.
The coach leaned toward Aliyah, “Keep an eye on her.”
Aliyah followed his gesture, scanning Y/n with simple curiosity, no judgment—like she was observing an interesting phenomenon.
Y/n blushed instantly and turned away.
“Okay guys!” Aliyah clapped. “Let’s start with setting drills.”
Emma Mayers—one of the team starters—stood before Y/n holding the ball. Her blue eyes fixed on Y/n as if trying to silently reassure her: it’s fine.
Y/n took a deep breath, raised her hands and attempted the pass. The ball slipped a little, but she still managed to send it back to Emma.
A few steps away, Jenna was taking notes. Every so often she’d lift her head toward the newbies, eyebrows slightly knit in focused evaluation. When she spotted a mistake, her nose twitched. When she saw something done correctly, a tiny half-smile flickered at the right corner of her lips—for a second.
Emma gave a small, surprised nod.
“Okay. Now the bump.”
She tossed the ball.
Y/n bent her knees, ready.
But the ball hit her right arm and flew wildly off course—straight toward Jenna.
The brunette didn’t even flinch. She tracked it, leaned out of the way and wrote something down. Her lips lifted just barely, expression unreadable.
“Sorry!” Y/n yelled, face burning.
Jenna didn’t reply, but the corner of her mouth rose the tiniest bit.
“Let’s try her as libero?” Aliyah suggested.
Emma nodded. “Jen, spike for a second.”
Jenna didn’t argue. She closed her notebook, set it aside and gave a small nod.
She warmed her shoulders with quick, precise movements.
Aliyah approached Y/n.
“Get into position. Breathe.”
Y/n nodded, though her heart raced from Aliyah’s closeness.
Emma grabbed the ball. “Ready.”
She tossed it high—almost too high.
But Jenna didn’t hesitate.
She waited.
Calculated.
Then sprinted.
Her run was surprisingly light. She jumped, strong and clean, back arched, right arm pulled like a drawn bow. For a moment, Y/n swore she hung in the air.
Jenna’s eyes met hers.
Just for a heartbeat.
Then the spike came.
The ball slammed into the floor with a sharp crack echoing through the gym.
Y/n ducked instinctively.
“…wow,” she whispered, still half-crouched.
Emma took the notebook, jotting something down with a faintly impressed smile.
Practice went on—and for Y/n, it was pure torture. Sprints that burned her lungs, crooked serves, spikes she didn’t even attempt to imitate. When the coach finally blew the whistle she looked pale and disheveled.
“I’m dying,” she wheezed to Joy.“I have no oxygen left.”
Joy tried not to laugh.“You did your best.”
The coach called attention.
“Alright! Results will be posted this afternoon.”
Y/n raised a hand.
“Do I… have a chance?”
The coach stared for a moment.“Honestly? You’re terrible.”
Y/n groaned, while behind her Aliyah bit her lip to hide a laugh.
She had to make this team.
“But… if someone trained me, I could get better, right?” Y/n asked, refusing to look at either twin.
The coach considered it.
“Actually, that’s not a bad idea.”
Then he turned to the twins.“Jenna, you’ll be training Y/n.”
Jenna’s eyes widened.“What? No. I—”
“It’s decided,” he cut her off, already walking away. “No complaints.”
Jenna froze for a couple seconds, then turned to Y/n.
the israeli government offers huge incentives for jews to move to israel — free healthcare, college tuition, tax benefits, rental assistance, free ulpan (immersive hebrew lessons) and of course — citizenship. for zionists, moving to israel is viewed as a beautiful thing, being able to go back to the ‘homeland’ a holy return — the phrase for it “making aliyah” or “to make aliyah” literally means to ascend — but it’s settlement. it’s government incentives to settle the land to give israel more power, more leverage, more future soldiers for the idf.
