Page 73 of His Elder

"I know."

"Your mother—"

"I know." He pushed off the wall, putting a little more distance between us. "How did you find me?"

"I didn't. I came with my roommate. Saw the sketches." I gestured back toward the gallery. "Barcelona."

Something flickered in his expression. A wince, maybe. "Right."

Silence stretched between us, thick with everything we weren't saying.

"Can we—" I stopped. Swallowed the lump in my throat. "Can we go somewhere? Talk?"

Eli studied me for a long moment. I couldn't read his expression. Couldn't tell if he wanted to walk away or pull me closer.

"There's a coffee shop on 45th," he said finally. "The one with the terrible murals."

"I know it."

"Twenty minutes. I need to finish up here."

I nodded.

Eli turned to go, then paused. Looked back. "Don't disappear."

"I won't."

He held my gaze. "Promise."

"I promise."

He disappeared back into the gallery.

I leaned against the wall where he'd been standing and tried to remember how to breathe.

The coffee shop was exactly as terrible as advertised. Someone had painted a floor-to-ceiling mural of an octopus drinking espresso while reading Sartre. The furniture was mismatched. The lighting was dim. It smelled like burnt coffee and patchouli.

I ordered a black coffee I didn't want and claimed a table in the corner.

Eli arrived exactly twenty minutes later.

He'd changed into a different jacket—this one worn leather—and carried a messenger bag slung across his chest. He ordered something complicated, paid, then joined me at the table.

We sat in silence while we waited for his drink.

"Economics," Eli said finally.

I blinked. "What?"

"Your roommate. The guy in the flannel." Eli took a sip of his drink. "I ran into him on my way out. He asked if I'd managed to find 'his roommate Sam' yet. He mentioned you're studying economics."

My stomach dropped. "You talked to Jordan?"

"Briefly." Eli set his cup down. He looked at me, his brow furrowed. "It doesn't fit."

"What?"

"Economics. That wasn't the plan. The plan was BYU, Business Management, whatever your dad had lined up. Or... honestly, I always thought you'd end up doing something with literature. You used to read the Isaiah chapters like they were poetry."