Chapter 21

WE POOLED MONEY, GRABBED THE pizzas—pepperoni, not pineapple—and a sleeve of red plastic cups. We let Jameer navigate to “his spot.” Him in Angie’s van, me following. The path took us to the edge of town, toward thick bands of forest. Turning off the main road onto a blink-and-you-missed-it passage, asphalt became a foliage tunnel. The ceiling was crisscrossed branches, the floor gravel tracks with lush grass between the treads. Angie’s van bounced like a bad dancer ahead of us. My teeth rattled. “What is this place, Kiera?”

“I don’t know.”

Another minute and the ceiling lifted, exposing a darkening late-afternoon fall sky. I was so close to Angie’s bumper that I couldn’t see beyond. She veered left, opening up our view and, real talk, I was stunned.

We’d reached the creek our town was named for. A grassy bank ran right to the water’s edge; to either side you could see it running from some unseen source, toward a train-track overpass and beyond.

I parked, and exited the car as the van’s side door was flung open, Jameer the first one out. The Pledgers followed, then Qwan, then Angie. Kiera stood close to me, with the Burton Brothers circling, their boxed wine exposed. Ralph had it by the handgrip in the box’s top, while Bobby punched out the perforated notch at the bottom, freeing the spigot.

“J.” Qwan tore open the packet of cups. “This spot is fire. How’d you find it?”

“A friend showed me.”

I knew what friend he spoke of. I clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Thanks, bro.”

Qwan passed cups out to everyone, but hesitated when he got to Angie. She waved him off. A few eyebrows arched.

“We’re driving.” I stood tall next to Angie, and handed my cup back.

There was a question in her stare: Did I know? My answer, “I’ve got a case of water in the trunk. My dad’s big on being prepared for emergencies.”

Qwan bullied the Burtons away from the box, and filled his cup first. “Seniority, little ninjas.”

When the brothers tried again for their portion, Jameer shoved past them, filled his cup like it was fruit punch. “Seniority.”

Kiera said, “You don’t need that much for communion, Jameer.”

“My spirituality is deep.”

When the Burtons leaned in, Kiera jumped forward, playful, blocking them once again. “Seniority.”

That got everyone laughing, even if she only took enough wine for a sip or two.

The rest of the Pledgers got in, finally. Most keeping their share of the wine closer to Kiera’s portion than Qwan’s and Jameer’s. Except for Helena. I caught her trying to go all in. I reached over and flipped the spigot closed, then tipped her cup, spilling half of her overly indulgent haul onto the grass. “Chill, you little alkie.”

“Boo!”

Angie poured water for me and her. Once we each had a cup, Qwan said, “How do we do this? A toast?”

“Grace,” Kiera said. “Every head bowed, every eye closed.”