Page 82 of Dissent

He nodded and then returned his attention to the box. “Open it.”

It was nothing fancy, just a simple box the size of my palm. I pulled off the lid and inside lied…a waxy rock.

What in the world?

It was dark brown, almost black, and a smell rose to my nose. Sweet, but also slightly bitter.

I was confused. “Um…what is it?” I looked up at him, catching a smile spreading across those delicious lips of his.

“Try it.”

“What?”

He laughed. “It’s food.”

My brows knitted together. “Food?”

“Taste it.”

“Is this a joke?”

He shook his head, the smile growing even bigger. “Just try it. Trust me.”

I looked at him dubiously, but picked up the small chunk with my thumb and forefinger. I took a quick whiff, and the sweet smell invited me in. Placing it on my lips, I opened my mouth and took a small bite.

I was so glad that I did.

The taste was incredible. The substance melted in my mouth, creamy and smooth, sweet with a hint of nutty bitterness. It was good,realgood. “Mmm.”

“I know, right?”

I took another small bite, moving my tongue over the waxy smoothness. “What is this?”

His eyes flickered beautifully, like the flame of a candle. “My favorite food I’ve ever tried. Chocolate.”

“Thisis chocolate?”

“Yeah. It’s good, isn’t it?”

“Oh hell yeah.” I shook my head as my tongue played with the melting substance.

He watched me, satisfaction in his expression. “Finish it.”

“You don’t want a bite?”

“Don’t worry about it. Just enjoy it. That’s good enough for me.”

I took the last bite, relishing how the texture coated the inside of my mouth. “Thank you.”

He beamed. “You’re welcome.”

***

We sat there for hours, talking about the world. Apparently, some of the other regions could still farm and grow food. But it was expensive and hard to get. I asked Matias how he got the chocolate, but he refused to tell me, saying he had his ways and wouldn’t budge from there. We watched the sky change colors as the sun continued to drift closer and closer to the horizon. He asked about my review. We told jokes and shared stories. He asked me questions about growing up in Telvia, about what Raúl and Belinda were like. He even asked about Jacob.

“I have a hard time believing he’s one of the good guys,” he said.

I smacked his shoulder. “Well, heis. So get used to it.” I looked back out at the horizon, admiring the colorful hues of reds and oranges beginning to shift to pinks and purples. “When we were kids, he always stood up for me against Belinda. Twice, he even got in the way when she hit me. I think it was the third time he did that, she started dragging me down into the basement. She could lock him out, do what she was going to do with me, and not worry about him getting in the middle of it.”

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