The Distance Between Lost and Found (2 page)

Hallelujah
did
hear Luke and Brad talking about sneaking out tonight. They were going over their plan in the backseat of the church van this afternoon. Right under Rich and the other chaperones' noses.

She knows where the party is. Or at least which way to head after getting past the parking lot.

But she can't sneak out. She can't—

“I'm not here with a group. I'm by myself,” Rachel says. “I was really hoping to meet some cool people this week. Please?”

“I—I don't usually go to those things. Parties,” Hallelujah croaks. Even as she says it, a scene flashes into her mind. Dani's family's lake house, back in September. Their whole extended friend group spread out on the back porch. Lynn's boyfriend playing the guitar while Hallelujah and Jonah and a few other kids took turns singing. Drinks appearing. One being pressed into Hallelujah's hand, a beer she didn't actually drink but that she felt cooler just holding. And at the end of the night, Luke convincing all the guys to jump in the lake, the girls cheering them on.

“C'mon.” Rachel smiles winningly, making eye contact with Hallelujah in the mirror. “It'll be fun. You'll see.”

It won't be. She knows it won't be.

But as she clings to Rachel's arm linked through hers, and as she remembers that warm night on Dani's back porch, Hallelujah is tempted. She should say no. For so many reasons. But she kind of wants to say yes.

Rachel is inviting her out. Hallelujah had almost given up on being invited anywhere ever again. And if Rachel came here alone, maybe she's lonely too. Maybe she needs a friend. Maybe they could be that for each other.

Maybe. If Hallelujah doesn't ruin it.

She smiles. It feels strange on her face. And she says, channeling Hal, feeling daring and even a little bit excited, “Okay.”

T
HE PARKING AREA BEHIND THE MAIN LODGE IS DARK
. They run from van to van, pausing to listen for signs of being followed, footsteps in the gravel. But there's nothing. Just the night sounds. Cicadas. An owl.

Beyond the church vans, it's about a ten-second sprint into the woods. They duck behind a massive tree.

“Where to?” Rachel whispers.

Hallelujah looks over her shoulder at the lodge. The building is a hulking shadow. The two dorm wings that extend out from either side of the common area look like arms reaching toward her. Beckoning for her to come back where it's safe.

She takes a deep breath and ignores her gut. “That way.” She points off on the diagonal, following the line of the boys' dorm. “I don't know exactly where.”

“That's okay. They can't be far. We'll just look for a campfire, right?” Rachel starts walking into the woods.

“Right,” Hallelujah echoes. She takes one last peek at the lodge, then follows Rachel.

For a few minutes, their only communication is the snapping of twigs beneath their feet:
I'm still ahead of you. I'm still behind you
. Hallelujah uses the glow from her phone to scan the area, looking for signs that someone came this way before they did. She wonders if she should do something to mark their path. Breadcrumbs. But Rachel is forging ahead. Rachel is confident. And so Hallelujah tamps down the urge to rip a strip from her shirt and tie it to a tree branch.

And then she hears voices. Not far. They made it.

As they draw nearer, Hallelujah finds herself slowing down. Through the trees, she can see a group of people sitting on logs in a circle around a campfire. She spots Luke immediately. He's facing away from her. His laughter echoes in the air.

She can still go back. It's not too late to turn back.

“Come on, Hal!” Rachel says. She walks out into the clearing.

Hallelujah ducks behind a tree. This was a bad idea. She shouldn't be here. And what if—what if Rachel knows? What if Rachel set her up? What if Luke did?

She sticks her head out, trying to see without being seen. Feeling ridiculous as she does it. And anxious. Ready to run away at a moment's notice. Ashamed by her fear.

Luke turns around. He looks Rachel up and down. “Who are you?”

“I'm Rachel Jackson. From Bristol.” Rachel holds out a hand.

Smirking, Luke leaves her hanging. “And who said you could be here?”

Hallelujah can't see Rachel's face. She does see Rachel's extended hand fall to her side. For the first time since they met in the bathroom, Rachel doesn't look so sure of herself. She calls out, “Hal? A little help?”

“Someone else out there?” Luke squints in Hallelujah's direction. He stands. He steps over his log bench and pushes past Rachel. Hallelujah can't move, can't breathe, and in four more steps, Luke has her by the arm. He's marching her into the light.

When he sees who it is, he drops her arm quickly, looking disgusted. “Hallie. You've gotta be kidding me.”

Behind him, Brad's on his feet. “Well, glory, Hallelujah!” he whoops. The girl next to him shushes him, and he lowers his voice. But he keeps talking, giving his words a preacher-at-a-revival ebb and flow. “I never thought, Hallelujah, I'd see the day, Hallelujah, where you'd have the guts to show up here, Hallelujah, praise Jesus—”

“Give it a rest,” Luke says.

“What, it's only funny when you do it?”

“Nah, she's always funny,” Luke says, looking back at Hallelujah, dismissing her with a roll of his eyes. “You just aren't. You never do that joke right.” He walks back to his seat. He glances at Rachel. “Turns out, there's a seat for you right here, next to me.” He pats the unclaimed bit of log to his right.

Rachel walks over and sits. “Thanks. It's Luke, right?”

“Luke Willis. This is Brad”—a nod of his head to the left—“and Jonah”—a nod to the right, to where Jonah is sitting off to one side, poking at the fire with a long stick.

Brad says, all smiles, “Hey.” Jonah says nothing.

Hallelujah feels frozen on the edge of the circle, like there's some kind of force field keeping her back. She's not sure if they put it up, or if she did. And she doesn't know whether to stay or to go. Which option is more humiliating.

She stands there while Luke gives Rachel a beer, while he casually drapes his arm across her shoulders. She stands there while the rest of the group does introductions. Besides Luke, Jonah, and Brad, there are two guys and a girl from Chattanooga and three girls from Knoxville. Hallelujah met the Knoxville girls at last year's youth group retreat. They all have perky, cute names—Brittany and Madison and Kelsey—and the bouncy hair and stylish clothes to match. They're the kind of girls that always swarm around Luke, moths to a flame. Rachel fits right in: petite, blond, pretty, outgoing.

Still, they're looking at Rachel with expressions somewhere between curiosity and jealousy. Hallelujah bets it has something to do with Luke's hand sliding up and down Rachel's arm. With the way he checked her out before telling her to sit by him. Hallelujah has seen the Knoxville girls' expressions before. On other faces.

She watches Luke lean across Rachel, his arm still around her, to get a beer from a backpack near Rachel's feet. She watches him hand the beer to one of the Chattanooga guys and then set his free hand on Rachel's knee. She watches, and she remembers how amazing it felt when it was her, and suddenly she's a little sick.

She tells herself that warning Rachel about Luke is not her job. Rachel seems nice, but they just met. Rachel could turn on her. And whether she knew what she was doing or not, Rachel convinced her to come out tonight. Being here, feeling like this—it's partly Rachel's fault.

“Hal—come sit!” Rachel is looking back. She motions toward a sliver of space between Jonah and Madison. “There's room.”

“No. There's not.” Luke says it without even turning around. “How do you and Hallie know each other, anyway?”

“We met in the bathroom. Earlier tonight. She seems cool.” Rachel smiles at Hallelujah. Hallelujah can't bring herself to smile back.

“Sure, if you like the strong, silent type. I don't. No offense.” Luke laughs, and Brad laughs, and the girls from Knoxville take that as their cue to laugh too. Like it was actually funny.

Rachel doesn't laugh. She's still smiling, but now it's like she's not sure whether she should be. “Come on, Hal,” she says. “We'll make room.”

But Luke's shaking his head. “Sorry. Guess I'm not being clear. There might be room for someone. But there's not room for Hallie.
Hal
. Whatever you wanna call her. Besides. She has to get back. Curfew.”

Rachel looks from Luke to Hallelujah, confused. “We're all breaking curfew.”

“Yeah, but it's Hallie's fault we have early curfew in the first place. And it's her fault we have so many chaperones to deal with.” Luke's counting on his fingers, holding them in the air. “Plus, they'll probably be checking up on her. So she can't stay.”

“How is all of that her fault?” Rachel asks. “What'd she do?”

“Yeah, Luke. What'd she do?” It's Jonah. Hallelujah is kind of shocked to hear his voice. It's low, with a dark undercurrent that's unfamiliar to her. Then again, it's been months since they talked. And a lot has changed. “If I remember it right,” Jonah goes on, still staring into the fire, “she wasn't the only one.”

Luke looks over at him. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” Jonah says. “Just making an observation.”

“An observation,” Luke repeats.

“Yeah.”

There's a moment of silence. It's uncomfortable. Hallelujah feels like the night sounds get louder to compensate. The wind rustling tree branches. The hum of cicadas. Birdcalls. They're suffocating her.

Then Luke shakes his head and laughs. “Whatever. Hallie still has to go.” He swings around to look at her directly. “What are you waiting for?”

Hallelujah blinks, wishing that small movement could make her vanish. Everyone in the circle is staring. Waiting for her to leave. Their eyes cut into her. She takes two steps backward, tears clouding her vision.

Don't cry. Don't cry
.

She turns and starts walking away. Walking, not running. She doesn't want to give Luke that satisfaction.

And then she sees a flash of light in the woods. She squints into the dark, rubbing her eyes. “Someone's coming,” she calls back to the group. She's not sure why she warns them, other than to make it clear that she isn't responsible. She didn't rat them out. Or maybe she did, unintentionally. Maybe Luke's right—the adults were watching her. To see what she'd do.

Either way, no one answers. There are now two lights shining through the trees. Big beams. Serious flashlights. The kind chaperones might grab when they find empty beds in the lodge after curfew. Hallelujah hesitates. She takes a few steps back toward the clearing and says, louder, “Someone's coming.”

Luke's on his feet in an instant. “Where?” He looks past Hallelujah, seeing the lights. He curses. “Everyone up! Let's go!” When people don't move immediately, he barks it again: “Up! Now!” Then he shrugs. “Your funeral.” He turns and runs into the woods.

Chaos erupts. The girls are squealing, the boys shushing them. Beers are chugged, the cans thrown into the dirt. Then the group scatters. Rachel races past Hallelujah. There's a shout from the darkness ahead: “Hey! Stop!”

Hallelujah's legs won't run. Her lungs won't breathe. It's happening again. She's about to be caught in the act. And this time, there's no one to blame but herself. She's so stupid. She's—

“Hallie, come on!” Jonah is scooping up empty beer cans and shoving them into his bag. He grabs Hallelujah's arm, and the touch is like a jolt from a defibrillator. She can move again. She looks at him. They make eye contact for the first time in ages.

They run.

T
HE TREES JUMP OUT AT HER FROM ALL SIDES, APPEARING
in an instant where before there was only darkness. She can't see her feet. She's running blind, hoping she won't trip, won't run into anything, is going the right direction.

She can hear Jonah behind her. He crashes through the leaves and brush like a bear. If anyone is chasing them, they'll have no trouble staying on their trail.

But for all she knows, she's that loud too. Her gasping breath and her feet hitting the ground and her pulse pounding.

He didn't leave her behind. He's with her now, even though he could probably run faster without her. He stays. She doesn't know why.

There's no time to think about it. She sees the lodge up ahead, blocked by fewer and fewer trees as they get closer.

They reach the parking lot and pause on the edge, looking. No chaperones. But they can hear shouts behind them.

“C'mon,” Jonah whispers, touching her arm again. He leads her out onto the gravel. They weave from van to van, staying out of sight of the lodge windows. Facing the woods, they're completely exposed. The shouts are getting closer.

They reach the van parked closest to the boys' dorm wing. Jonah peers around the side. He mutters something.

Hallelujah inches closer to him. “What?” she whispers. Her lungs are gripped in a vise. Her heart is straining.

“Window's closed.” He points to the one they must've used to sneak out earlier. “How did y'all get out?”

“Girls' bathroom.” She looks, points. That window, at the end of the girls' wing, is still cracked open. A miracle. She can breathe again.

“Okay. Let's do it.”

They run to crouch beneath the window. Jonah looks in all directions, then slowly, silently slides the window up. He unfolds from his crouch and his upper half disappears into the bathroom. He pauses. Hallelujah can see his body tense. Fight or flight. His hands grip the sill. He lifts up onto the balls of his feet, and his calves tighten.