Say a Little Prayer(48)

“Sure,” I say, stepping deliberately out of her grasp. “It’s nice.”

By the time we reach the stream that divides our territories, my pulse has almost returned to normal. Julia looks up and down the muddy embankment before hopping across, and after a brief second where I picture myself landing in the murky water below, I follow. When I straighten, Julia has a finger pressed to her lips.

“Quiet,” she whispers. “Keep a lookout for the blue flag.”

I nod, mime zipping my lips, then promptly trip over a gnarled root. Julia bites back an exasperated sigh, but as she turns to go, I swear I see the corner of her mouth lift in another faint, stomach-flipping smile. I tug the brim of my hat down over my eyes and hurry after her.

“Do you know where to look?” I ask after several minutes of picking our way through the trampled underbrush. “Where do people usually hide flags?”

Julia shrugs. “It’s different every year. No one uses the same spot twice, but there are a few trees up here I want to scope out. Maybe we could—”

A twig snaps somewhere to our left. I whirl toward the sound, but before I can get a good look, Julia yanks me behind the nearest tree. My back slams into the trunk, and I manage to suck in a single surprised breath before my brain short-circuits at the feeling of her hip pressed against mine. Slowly, we both peer around the trunk.

A length of blue silk is tucked in the hollow of a nearby tree, the end barely visible through the leaves. It’s a good spot—the flag just high enough that someone would have to climb or jump to reach it. I picture the end of it wrapped around my fist, trailing behind me on my way back to base. Then I glance to the left, and my victorious daydream evaporates.

Amanda stands in front of the tree, jaw set in steely determination. She’s traded her cap sleeves and tennis skirts for a pair of navy leggings and a cropped Swan Lake T-shirt. The blue lines drawn across her face bring out the sharp green of her eyes, and I cannot believe that out of everyone currently attending this camp, she’s the one standing between me and victory.

I glance at Julia, eyebrows lifted in silent question. The flag is right there. It’s two versus one. Julia chews on her bottom lip. She sneaks a glance around the trunk, but before she can respond, the bushes to our left start to rustle. We turn around right as Greer appears on the path behind us, followed by another boy from her team.

For a second, we all freeze, eyes locked on each other across the clearing. Then Greer jabs a finger in our direction. “Get them!”

“Run!”

Julia pushes me in front of her, and we tear through the forest with Greer hot on our heels. I’m going as fast as I can, feet slipping through the mud, and I have a sudden flashback to last night. Our mad dash through the trees with flashlights bobbing behind us. I’d barely made it then, and I’m definitely not quick enough now.

“Faster, Riley!” Julia cries.

I grit my teeth, but it’s like my muscles are physically revolting. Twigs rip through my hair as we round a corner and find the stream directly in front of us. Safety. Our footprints are still visible in the mud on the other side, and at the last second, Julia pushes me forward. I make a wild leap right as Greer’s hand closes on the back of Julia’s shirt.

“Got you!”

“No!” I whirl. “Julia!”

But it’s too late. She’s stuck, standing on the opposite side of the stream with Greer on one side and the boy on the other. “Go!” She waves a hand in my direction. “Save yourself!”

Greer rolls her eyes. “She’s literally already safe, but okay.”

She still has one hand fisted in the back of Julia’s shirt, but when she turns to go, I think she’s smiling, too.

The three of them head back into the forest, Julia glancing over her shoulder every few steps, and after a minute of trying and failing to catch my breath, I start walking back toward our base. I have no idea where Patrick hid our flag. I don’t know who’s winning, and at this point, I’m not even sure I remember the rules. There’s a stich in my side, throbbing in time with my ragged pulse, but when Torres jogs into the clearing a second later, she’s barely winded. Maybe I’m not giving the Madison High School volleyball team enough credit.

“Hey.” She scans the tree line over my shoulder. “Where’s Julia?”

I shake my head. “Blue team got her after we saw their flag.”

“You saw it? Where?”

I point and describe the area as best I can. Torres considers me for a minute, then looks back at our sparsely guarded base. “Okay,” she says. “Let’s be aggressive while we still can. Liam, Will, Mason, you come with me. Riley, stay here and guard the prisoners. Chase down anyone who tries to free them.”

The fact she thinks I’m capable of chasing anyone down is kind of sweet. I give her a mock salute, then stroll toward the base, taking inventory of our prisoners as I go. There aren’t many, but I do a double take when I spot Ben sitting near the middle. “Wow,” I say. “What happened to holding your victory over our heads forever?”

“Don’t mock me,” he groans. “I forgot Torres is superhuman.” Then his gaze slides to the edge of the clearing. “They’ve been gone a while, haven’t they?”

“They’ve been gone, like, thirty seconds.”