“You don’t want these incidents on your record next year. Yeshivahs look at those records when they’re considering boys”

After a night spent in turmoil, the morning feels full of new promise. The world is coated in a light layer of snow, and Naftali feels a sense of peacefulness as he drives his bus out to Meadowbrook.

Even Yudi seems cheerful this morning. His parents are in the driveway when he departs, loading up a taxi for what looks like another trip, and Naftali is pleased to imagine that Yudi has spent the weekend with family. “More skiing?” he asks.

“Nah.” Yudi settles in behind him. “This time, they’re going to the Luxor resort. You couldn’t talk me into going back to Egypt if you tried. I’m the only one going skiing this weekend.” He brightens. “Hey, are you going to be driving any of the buses up to the mountains?”

“Those are coach buses. Hired just for the trip, I assume.” Naftali pats the dashboard. “Where this bus goes is as far as I go.” For now, anyway. Yesterday’s conversation settles back onto him like weight on his shoulders, and his good mood wavers.

Yudi frowns. “That’s too bad,” he says. “Do you think the drivers get free tickets to ski, too? Maybe not.” He considers. “Like, people break arms and legs skiing all the time. I hit a tree once and sprained my wrist. Imagine one of the drivers gets hurt and we’re stranded upstate for Shabbos. Rabbi Hartman would be so mad.” The idea seems to cheer him up.

This is the chattiest that Yudi’s ever been in the morning, and Naftali is quietly amused. There’s something younger about him today, less cynical and more bright-eyed. He isn’t clicking any suspicious-looking items that Naftali might have to confiscate.