Hey! I have a project I was wondering if you guys would be interested in joining in on

Nora nibbled on her fingernail and hit Send. She couldn't believe she was doing this. Why didn't her mouth let her think before saying something stupid? And, of course, she hadn't actually worked up the courage to message the rest of her friends before Nolan changed his mind, so now she was stuck doing exactly what Willow had suggested she avoid.

At least she'd told Nolan to meet at church so she could buy herself some time. She was just glad he hadn't insisted on talking during lunch. If he had, she didn't know what she would have done.

✓ Seen by Willow.

Nora's grip tightened on her phone. Yes, Willow already knew, but still. People were seeing her message. It was official.

A soft ding! Her heart stuttered. Just Willow, in their private chat.

He changed his mind, didn't he?

...yes.

Welp.

Welp was an understatement.

Look at it this way: YOU GET TO MAKE A MUSIC VIDEO!! My best friend, a star

Nora's stomach hurt.

Everything would be fine. This was just a way to help out Nolan. It wasn't like her video would take off or anything. And even if it did, so what? It was one video. It didn't mean anything.

Her dad hardly went on the computer anymore, and, when he did, he definitely wasn't checking out what she was up to. So, as long as she kept the production out of the house, it should be fine. Fine. Just fine. Everything was fine.

She returned to their group chat, dubbed fine fam from alabam since Sophomore year.

✓ Seen by Andy

✓ Seen by Max and Erin

👍🏻

Max. A man of many words.

I'm intrigued. Per chance, what is your request?????

I'm also in and also curious! (:

There wasn't any going back now. She tapped her fingers against her comforter and glanced at her bedroom door. Her dad wasn't home, and wouldn't be until at least 5:30 (if he didn't stop at a bar afterward), but his presence was palpable.

She bit her lip and started to type.

Sooooo basically you know how Andy was hounding me to make a YouTube channel?

OMGOMGOMGG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Candy Cane, your use of punctuation legitimately pains me.

Shut up, Sison!!!!! I'M TOO DAMN EXCITED.

Swear jar.

So you want to make a music video of one of your songs?

Ah, Erin—she never failed to bring the subject back to the task at hand. Nora smiled softly.

Yeah! Right now, though, I'm concentrating on a single music video

Maybe if she used the smiley emoji enough, she'd feel it. Was that a thing? It should be a thing. She wanted it to be a thing.

A couple swear jars later, everyone was in. Relief melded with her anxiety. She was so lucky to have them. Thank You. She grabbed her necklace and looked at the ceiling. Thank You for the fine fam from alabam.

Internal laughter cut off her prayer. Ah, that never got old.

I CALL BEING THE STUNT PERSON

Max...why would we need a stunt person?

Nora could just hear Willow.

🙅🏻‍♂️🥋🧯

Why is there a fire extinguisher?

😎

Oh no.

Nora laughed. She felt better already.

✝

Nora's eyes flew open to the sound of shattering glass.

She jumped from her bed and ran to her door, only pausing as the cool metal of the doorknob shocked her to alertness.

The curses that followed the shattering glass were enraged, not wounded. So, odds were, her dad had thrown an empty bottle at the wall or TV or lamp or whatever was nearest to him. But...

She bit her lip and twisted open the door—slowly. Quietly.

She tiptoed to the stairwell and crept down the stairs. Light poured from the kitchen, but the blue light of the TV glinted against the living room walls. He would be in there.

She reached the final step—

A choked sob. She froze.

"Mahalia," he wept.

Her mom.

"I'll never forgive her."

Nora's eyes burned. She padded across the foyer, and, pressing herself as close to the wall as she could, she peeked through the living room doorway.

Glass scattered the far wall, but his target hadn't been the wall, the TV, or the lamp. It had been her. More specifically, a framed photo of her, the only in the house. He'd kept it up for pretenses—and for cursing purposes.

"I know, I know it's wrong," he slurred. "But I can't. I can't do it, Mahalia. I hate her."

A tear slipped down her cheek.

You did this. He's broken, and it's all your fault.

"I hate her!" he roared.

Nora covered her mouth to block a sob. And as her dad cursed her name, her existence, she went back upstairs and crawled into bed.

Would she really think he's wrong? Nora asked God as she pressed a pillow over her face to block the noise, the world, the self-hatred seeping into her head. Or would she hate me, too?

✝

Crying typically made her tired enough to fall asleep even in broad daylight. But, last night, she'd tossed and turned, desperate to lose consciousness, but also terrified of what she'd find when she did.

And so now she was struggling not to pass out in the back of Andy's Jeep. It wasn't working out too well.

"What'd you do, pull an all-nighter?" Andy asked, looking at her through his rearview mirror.

"You're supposed to save that energy for the actual all-nighter," Max said. The actual all-nighter was the annual youth group sleepover at Holy Trinity, which happened every August.

"And you need to be awake for the meeting after church," Andy said.

Nora grinned to mask the stomach lurch at the mention of the meeting. "I'll never forgive her."

Please let this not make things worse, she prayed. Please help me get through this as painlessly as possible.

You can do this. She could. If they waited to film when it was vacation, then they would have the entire day—at least on the days that they didn't have work or other obligations. And, if she didn't offer her house and if she just made sure to be home by five on the days she didn't have practice or youth group, then she shouldn't arouse suspicion. Right?

"This is going to be so fun," Erin said. It was her week for shotgun.

"Hell yeah!" Andy cheered.

"Swear jar!"

"Never mind," he grumbled. "I take that back."

Nora smiled.

They pulled into the parking lot and found a remaining spot near the back. She hopped out of the car and soaked in the morning sun and reminded herself that God had created this warmth. He'd given her this moment. And He would give her the next.

"Okay, on your mark," Max said.

They lined the Jeep, fingers pressed into the edge. Nora narrowed her eyes at the door, her free hand clutching the strap of her ukulele case. When had racing to the door become a tradition? She had no idea. But they did it faithfully each Sunday, and, just as faithfully, she failed to win.

I'll win this time. A mantra that had never made her win, but oh well. She remained hopeful and optimistic.

"Get ready..."

She did.

"Get set..."

Oh, I'm all set.

"Go!"

They blasted from the Jeep, sneakers and flats pounding against the pavement. As she ran, Nora set her dad in a case to be reopened later. She trained on the door, on her friends as they zoomed by her and she pushed herself, determined to pass them—

"A-ha!" Max slapped the door.

"I call rigged!" Andy said.

"I call sore loser."

The other door opened, and George, their elderly greeter, poked his head outside. "Who won?" he asked.

"Me," Max said.

George held out his hand, and Max tapped it with his own.

"I'll win next time," Nora said.

"Me too," Erin declared. They high-fived. Out of the two, Erin was more likely. She'd at least managed first place a few times in the past five months.

They headed inside, into the sanctuary, and as Nora plopped next to Willow and informed her that she sucked at running, a calmness spread through her. She was home.