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“Nothing,” Dee repeated.

I rested my chin on my hand and fluttered my lashes at him. “Something.”

“Alvin, I swear to god…”

“See you at church, DeeDee!”

Darius’s jaw tightened. Then he walked away. I watched him go while Trevor continued to stare at me.

“What?” I asked him.

“You guys are weird.”

“You have no idea.” Unfortunately, I did.

Because the thing about yesterday wasn’t that Dee had gotten off. That would’ve been simple. Embarrassing for him. Entertaining for me. Easy. The problem was what happened afterwards.

He hadn’t shoved me away. Not immediately. For a few seconds, he’d stayed there with me. Breathing. Forehead against my shoulder. My hand curled loosely in his shirt. Neither one of us were pretending in that precious moment.

Then he’d remembered who he was. And who I was. And everything had gone back to shit. As per usual.

The chapel sat near the edge of camp beneath a cluster of old pines. The kind of building somebody probably thought looked peaceful. I thought it looked like trauma with shutters.

Campers shuffled inside while us counselors stood near the doors making sure nobody escaped into the woods.

I considered it myself. Then I saw my father posted up near the front steps, his beady little eyes raking over me like he knew Adam and David were my masterful plan. And out went any notion of getting away. If I ran now, he’d probably assume Satan had physically entered my body and organize an exorcism before lunch.

Pastor Carter wore a dark suit despite the heat—he needed to blend in with his brethren Lucifer. My father also believed sweating for the Lord built character. Omar stood beside him. His sleeves rolled neatly to his forearms, tie loosened slightly while he held a stack of service programs. He looked up. Saw me. Smiled. And I smiled back without thinking. Then I felt someone step beside me.

Dee. I glanced sideways. He was looking at Omar too but not in the floaty-tummy way.

I bit the inside of my cheek. No. Behave. Sky Daddy is watching.

I lasted approximately three seconds. “You trying to murder Omar with your imaginary laser eyes again?”

“I’m looking at the chapel,” Dee insisted.

“Omar isn’t a chapel but maybe he has a big steep⁠—”

“Go inside, Alvin.”

“That sounded jealous.”

“It wasn’t.”

“Mhmm.” I leaned closer. “Careful. Lying under the Lord seems smitable.”

Dee’s gaze flicked towards me.

I smiled. I’d been accusing Dee of being jealous every chance I got. Because he was. He could deny it until Judgment Day. Didn’t matter. I knew him. I knew what his face looked like when Omar talked to me. I knew how his shoulders went rigid when Omar stood too close. I knew the way Dee suddenly became intensely interested in whatever object was nearest whenever Omar made me laugh.

And yesterday? Yesterday, Dee had nearly snapped a broom handle in half because Omar had touched my back while passing behind me.

I should’ve found it funny. Mostly I did. But beneath all the teasing lived something much more dangerous. Hope.

Every jealous look told me maybe I wasn’t imagining this. That maybe Dee wanted me. Maybe yesterday meant something. Maybe eventually he’d stop being scared long enough to say it. That was the part I tried not to think about. Because hope had always been the quickest way Darius D’Angelo could hurt me.

Omar extended a program in my direction. “Good Morning.”