Page 28 of The Very First Night

“Depends on what is in this box,” I joke.

He pulls his hand away and allows me to open the box…to reveal a Nova Lox bagel piled with the same fixings as his. My eyes meet his, and I notice nervousness seeping into his otherwise confident attitude.

“If you hate it, I promise I will walk back over there and buy you something else. But…I think you’ll like it.”

Despite my usual dislike for seafood, I cautiously take a bite of the bagel. The creamy texture of the cream cheese and the crunch of the toasted bagel mix with the salty burst of briny capers and perfectly smoked salmon, creating a harmonious blend of flavors that leaves me pleasantly surprised.

“Good, right?” He leans forward in anticipation of my response.

I pause for a moment, wanting to respond with something snarky about him getting me food without any inkling of whether I’d like it, but I have to give him credit. He managed to guess correctly.

“It’s good,” I mumble, my mouth still half full, holding a napkin to my mouth. I finish chewing. “It’s really good, actually. I’m glad to have been wrong. I don’t normally like fish.”

A look of relief washes over him at my words. “Good.” He grins before biting into his own bagel, cream cheese clinging to the corner of his mouth.

“Elijah,” I say.

“Hm?”

“You’ve got…” I point to the corner of his mouth.

He looks confused for a split second until he reaches up and feels the cheese on his lip. He wipes it away quickly with his thumb before licking it away.

I do a terrible job at hiding the reaction my body has to that visual.

To my relief, he smirks but doesn’t say anything.

“So, what class are you studying for?” Elijah leans forward in his seat to get a peek at my open textbook.

“Principles of Macroeconomics.” I groan, resting my forehead against the textbook in demonstration of my frustration.

“Not going well, I take it?” he asks.

“Not going well,” I confirm. “I’ve never been good at math to begin with, so it’s proving to be…difficult.”

He nods in understanding before shifting his seat, nestling up next to me to look at the page I was reading.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“Helping you,” he says, frowning. “I took this class last semester. It’s still fresh in my mind, so I may be able to help.”

I tilt the book toward him and he exhales. “Oh, okay. This is really easy…monetary policy focuses on interest rates and the money in circulation, whereas fiscal policy pertains more to taxation and government spending.”

“Will you deal with that after you finish school?” I ask.

“To some degree. It depends on the job, but probably. If I go the law route after law school, not as much. But once I venture into politics, yes.”

“Does your dad?”

He tenses at the mention of his father, Governor Hanas—who I googled after that first night with Elijah.

“Yes.” He doesn’t elaborate.

“And that’s what you want to do? What your dad does?”

The air between us thickens, and I hold my breath, waiting for him to speak. The seconds tick by as I fidget in my seat.

Finally, he lets out a deep sigh. “Of course I do.” His response is cold, and I know with certainty I shouldn’t pry. I clearly made a grave mistake in asking about his dad.

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