He started his rounds. Yitz, Akiva, Eric… they were doing well. But why was Chaim sitting alone? Where was his chavrusa?

“Wait, Benny, don’t forget the envelope,” Tziporah said.

“Envelope?” Benny tried to focus on Tziporah and the envelope she was waving.

He checked his reflection in the mirror again. Should he try brushing his hair the other way? The glasses were good, but maybe they would be even better with a haircut more like Eric’s.

The guys had been talking about Madison and Lila again yesterday. Maybe he should google the names, figure out what was consuming them.

“The rent, remember?” Tziporah said. “Tomorrow is the first of the month. I stopped at the bank this morning and got the cash, so you can drop it off at Kroizer after second seder.”

“You’re the best, Tzip,” Benny said. “We would have been evicted by now if I didn’t have you managing our money.”

Tziporah smiled. It was true. “Have a great afternoon,” she said.

“You too!” Benny stuck the envelope in his jacket pocket, grabbed his helmet, and ran out the door.

The electric bike hummed up the hill to Geula, vibrating to the steady rhythm of Madison-and-Lila, Madison-and-Lila. Tonight, when Tziporah finished working, he would check it out, Benny decided. It was his job to be accessible to the guys, to know their issues and lingo and culture. He had to be in the loop if he wanted to remain their address — the guy who was just like them, who came from the same background, who dealt with the same struggles and challenges. Wasn’t that why the Rosh had hired him?

The beis medrash was pretty full when he arrived at Ner Olam. It took a good five minutes to cool off — that helmet was so sweaty in the summer — and then he started his rounds. Yitz, Akiva, Eric… they were doing well. But why was Chaim sitting alone? Where was his chavrusa?