Say a Little Prayer(66)

“You’re home!” she cries, wrapping me in a crushing hug. Then she pulls back, eyes narrowing like she’s somehow absorbed my bad mood through osmosis. “What’s wrong?”

I shake my head. “Nothing. Just tired. We were up pretty early this morning.”

Again, it’s not technically a lie.

“Why don’t you go unpack?” Mom says. She runs a hand through my hair, then grimaces when her fingers catch in the tangles. “And take a shower while you’re at it. We have leftovers for lunch when you’re done.”

She doesn’t have to tell me twice. I drag my suitcase upstairs, then turn and flop face-first onto my unmade bed. Clothes are still scattered across the floor from my disastrous attempt at packing. There’s a pair of socks on the pillow next to my face, but I don’t care. I close my eyes and get exactly three seconds of peace before my door flies open.

“Hey!” I snap. “That was closed!”

Hannah ignores me. She just shuts the door and turns to face me with both hands planted on her hips. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!”

“Bullshit. You might be able to fool Mom, but you can’t fool me. What happened? Are you and Julia in a fight?”

I push myself into a seated position and clutch the nearest pillow to my chest for support. “Why would you say that?”

“Ben texted me before you got back.”

I roll my eyes. “Of course he did.”

“Riley—”

“It’s fine, Hannah. I just called her dad a piece of shit, she said she doesn’t want to be my friend anymore, and that’s it. There’s nothing to say.”

To my horror, my throat burns with something that feels suspiciously close to tears.

“Oh.” Hannah’s gaze softens. She takes a tentative step forward. “I thought you two didn’t talk about him?”

“Yeah, well.” I rub a hand over my face. “Maybe we should have, because she seems to think that just because I’m not marching through the streets demanding her father’s head on a spike that I’m just, like, fine and cool and completely over everything he did to us.”

My voice breaks on the last word. I sink my teeth into my bottom lip, but it’s too late. There’s a tremor, then a crack, and everything just sort of collapses. I’m crying. Like, actually crying for the first time in months, and I realize, with a sickening jolt, that I don’t know how to stop.

“Oh no.” Hannah flies across the room. She wraps me in her arms, and even though I spent the last week longing for the comfort of her beside me, I can’t seem to catch my breath now.

I can’t stop crying either, and it’s so embarrassing that all I can do is bury my face in her shoulder and wait for it to stop. When I finally pull it together long enough to drag a hand over my face, Hannah’s sitting on the bed next to me. I have the strangest feeling that her arms are the only thing holding me together right now, so when she looks me in the eye and demands I tell her everything, I do.

I tell her about this year’s camp theme and our opening sermon and how I’d seized the opportunity to prove Pastor Young wrong by committing all seven deadly sins. I tell her about the big things—like my essay and all the ways I planned to blast it out—but I also tell her about the small in-between moments, too. Sneaking into the kitchen at night, watching Torres win capture the flag, laughing with Delaney and Greer at the bonfire. I tell her about Julia kissing me in the chapel and all the secret, dangerous things it ignited in my chest.

When I finally stop for breath, Hannah’s eyes are wide. “Wow,” she says. “That’s a lot.” Then, after a second, she adds, “Is Julia okay?”

“Oh my god, Hannah.” I shove her away. “This is supposed to be about me.”

“It is! Sorry, I’m just saying that you’ve had time to come to terms with who you are. You could go to anyone in this house right now and say, ‘Hey, I kissed Julia,’ and we’d help you through it. She doesn’t have that. This might be completely new for her.”

“I don’t care. I literally came out to her a year ago. She could have talked to me.”

Hannah lifts a brow. “Like how you talked to her about Pastor Young?”

Fair point. I scowl and shove the pillow over my face, momentarily blocking out the light. There’s something else clawing its way through me, a confession I’ve never been able to put into words. I don’t even know if I want to say it now, but Hannah places a hand on the pillow and gently lowers it back into my lap.

“What is it?” she asks.

I grit my teeth and wish, for the hundredth time, that she wasn’t so goddamn perceptive. “I think…” My voice catches. “I think I’m still mad at her for things that might not even be her fault. And then I get mad at myself for being mad at her because that’s not fair, but I still feel it right here.” I press a hand to my chest. “I was so mad at Amanda and Greer for how they treated you, but Julia is your friend, too. She didn’t stand up for you that day, and she’s never stood up for me either. And I get that it’s different for her, but it’s been a year and I’m still so angry about it.”

Hannah runs a soothing hand down my arm. “Are you more upset for you or me?” she asks. “Because I don’t blame her for what happened. No one stood up for me that day.”