Say a Little Prayer(21)

“It’s a great view, isn’t it?”

I glance over my shoulder to find Delaney following my gaze over the hill. She has her face tilted toward the sun, arms slightly outstretched like she wants to physically soak it all in, but before I can answer, Greer lets out a low scoff.

“It’s fine,” she says. “It’s great. Now can we please get back to work before Gabe sees us? We can’t have much time left.”

Unfortunately, I think she’s right. The sun is creeping toward the center of the sky, the morning is almost over, but I have absolutely no desire to return to the woods or finish our project. Instead, when a breeze ruffles the hair hastily knotted at the back of my neck, the first brush of a new idea slips through my mind.

“Come here.” I step into the clearing and motion for the others to follow. “I have a better idea.”

Delaney falls into step beside me, but Greer hangs back, shooting nervous glances over her shoulder as I circle around the far edge of the picnic area. It’s not until I drop to my hands and knees and crawl under one of the tables that she takes a hesitant step forward.

“What are you doing?”

“Finding shelter.” I turn so I can sit cross-legged on the grass, then smack a palm against the bench to my left. “Looks sturdy to me.”

Delaney sinks into a crouch, one hand braced against the table. “Oh my god,” she says, grin slowly spreading across her face. “You’re a genius, Riley.”

She crawls in next to me, slouching to avoid hitting her head against the underside of the table, and I very purposefully avoid eye contact with the cobweb lurking in the corner. Greer wavers, bottom lip caught between her teeth.

“This isn’t…” she starts. “The rules…”

“I don’t think Gabe knows the rules,” I say. “If you want to keep picking up sticks, be my guest, but I’m taking a break.”

“Same.” Delaney pats the ground next to her. “Chill, Greer. There’s room.”

Part of me wants Greer to give up, to head back into the woods and leave us alone, but another wistful, disgustingly nostalgic part still remembers what it’s like to exist in her orbit. I used to come home from rehearsal to find her and Hannah on our couch downstairs, utterly engrossed in some mediocre reality show with their homework forgotten between them. They’d call me over, give me a recap I absolutely didn’t ask for, and then Greer would absentmindedly hand me a coffee she’d picked up on the way—a medium iced with oat milk, a shot of espresso, two pumps of mocha, and no sugar.

I never asked her to get me one. I don’t think I ever told her what I liked, she just heard me order one day and tucked the drink away in that color-coded memory bank of hers. She always remembered my birthday, she knew Hannah and Amanda’s dance schedule by heart, and even though we haven’t really spoken since January, I’m pretty sure she still remembers my locker combination.

I hope she does, anyway. I hope there’s a Riley-shaped file rattling around her skull at all times, and I hope it reminds her of all the things she’s no longer a part of.

I keep my gaze fixed on the grass curling around my ankles and purposefully ignore the hesitant glance Greer shoots my way. Then she lowers herself to the ground and crawls under the table to join us.

“There,” Delaney says, scooting over as Greer tentatively tucks her legs beneath her. “Was that so bad?”

Before she can answer, a twig snaps on the other side of the clearing, and we all whip around to find Gabe emerging from the trees. His eyes immediately narrow on our hiding spot. “Hey!” he calls. “What are you doing?”

I feel Greer stiffen beside me, like every ounce of her rule-following, type A personality has found its way into her spine. I lean over to peer at Gabe across the bench. “Finding shelter. Nice, isn’t it?”

“That’s not what we meant. You’re supposed to build something.”

Greer shoots me a look that clearly says, I told you, but I force myself to shrug. “I thought we could use the materials God provided.”

“You can.”

“And didn’t God provide these tables?”

“I…” Gabe’s mouth opens, closes, and opens again before he shakes his head. “No, that’s not…You need to finish the assignment.”

Delaney leans back on her elbows. “Why?” she asks. “Do you get paid based on our ability to build a wilderness shelter or something?”

From the look of unease flickering across Gabe’s face, I think he genuinely might. I grin and stretch my legs out in front of me. “Well, you’re doing an excellent job, Gabriel. Really. I feel super sheltered.”

For a minute, Gabe looks like he’s about to physically drag me into the clearing. He turns in a frustrated circle, then storms back into the woods, probably to make sure the rest of our group, at least, is still working.

Delaney snorts, teeth sinking into her bottom lip as she tries to hide her grin. “I think you broke him.”

To my surprise, Greer also cracks a smile. She watches Gabe until he disappears between the trees, then slowly reclines against the edge of the table. “This is kind of nice, I guess,” she says. “That project was stressing me out.”

“Really?” Delaney’s brows lift in mock surprise. “But you hid it so well.”