"I just feel like someone’s staring at us,” he said, lowering his voice. “Strange, no?"

It was late Thursday night. The beis medrash was pulsing with the sounds of dozens of high school bochurim reviewing the Gemara with their chavrusas; arguing, clarifying, waving thumbs in the air as they fought their way to clarity together.
Over at a table to one side, two boys sat engrossed in their chazarah. Even sitting down, you could tell that the brown-haired one was tall and athletically built, while his chavrusa, with the flashing green eyes and black hair, was shorter.
“Let’s go over this one more time,” the dark-haired one, otherwise known as Avi Shine, suggested. “You wanna read?”
“Sure.” Elchanan leaned forward and took a deep breath. Thanks to their nightly chavrusa, he was doing better than ever in learning, but it still took a lot of concentration. On the other hand, a good learning session was even more exhilarating than a game of basketball. And that was saying something.
This one’s in print. Some of our best stories live in the magazine — subscribe to get Mishpacha every week.