Reed studied Nathan across the room and wondered what to say. The day’s work had not yet begun at the factory, and the workers stood in little clusters in the aisles, waiting for the belts to turn on. Late into the night, Reed had planned how to begin this conversation. He had finally settled on a satisfactory method but had forgotten it by the time he woke up. Now, as he eyed the other young man, he settled on a back-up plan and moved toward Nathan.
“So do I need to start wearing more deodorant or something?” He sauntered over. “If it’s really that bad, you should’ve said something.”
Nathan’s friendly smile turned to a look of complete incomprehension. “Excuse me, what?”
“You know, last night—you sure didn’t want to stick around after you saw me.”
Nathan looked startled. “What do you mean? I didn’t see you last night.”
Reed gave an inward sigh of relief. So Riley was wrong. “You didn’t? It was at the Boulevard. I yelled to you across the street right before that truck almost hit me. Didn’t you hear me?”
Nathan held up a hand. “Whoa, whoa, I’m confused. So you almost got killed by a truck on the Boulevard and you think I was there? Sorry, but I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Reed thought for a second. “Well, I guess you missed the part with the truck. By the time I got back up, you were already down the alley. I tried to catch up, but you’re pretty dang fast.”
For half a second, Nathan seemed to tense ever so slightly; then it was gone. He shook his head.
“Okay, let me get this straight. You think you were chasing me around last night in some back alley at the Boulevard? What on earth—I mean, are you sure it was me?” He sounded confused—almost laughing—but it seemed forced somehow.
“Positive,” said Reed. “You were with some other guy I’d never seen before, walking along the sidewalk by J. Crew. Oh, and you were wearing your green Aeropostale hoodie with the white lettering.”
Nathan’s smile faded a little. “And you, like, followed me?”
“Kind of. I was trying to catch up with you to find out what was going on. I got close, but you lost me. You know, when you hid behind that dumpster.”
Nathan’s smile disappeared altogether. Without a word, he turned and walked to his station, his forehead creased in a heavy frown.
Reed followed him. “It was you, right?”
Nathan let out a deep breath. “Yeah, it was me.” He didn’t sound angry.
Reed waited, but Nathan said nothing more. His face was drawn and tight, his brows knitting as he stared at the floor.
Reed had not seen him like this before. “Okay, dude, I don’t mean to be nosy, but… what’s going on?”
Nathan took another deep breath but kept his eyes down. “I… I don’t think I can tell you.”
“You mean, you don’t know?” Reed had to admit he was relieved; at least Nathan wasn’t mixed up in anything.
Nathan opened his mouth to speak, then dropped his head. “I can’t lie to you, Reed. I wish I could say that, but… I can’t.”
Neither of them said anything for a moment. The other workers were still talking in little groups around them. Someone was finishing a cup of coffee nearby; Reed could just catch the rich scent in the air.
Nathan cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. “Look, Reed, I… I can’t hide this from you; I mean, you saw me. But I can’t tell you… I mean… you don’t understand… Reed, can I trust you?” For the first time, he lifted his eyes to meet Reed’s.
Reed opened his mouth to answer, but found he couldn’t. He was caught off guard by the intensity of Nathan’s eyes, probing, cutting deep into Reed’s mind. He had the uncomfortable feeling they were reading him like a book. Nathan was making his own decision. Reed had to look away.
“Reed.”
He dared to glance back.
Nathan was still staring fixedly at his face. “I think I can.”
Can? Reed was confused but said nothing.
Nathan’s gaze shifted over Reed’s left shoulder, and he said, more to himself than to Reed, “But it doesn’t look like I have a choice.” He stood for another moment, staring into space before he shook himself. “I’m going to tell you something, but only if you promise you will never tell another living soul. Ever.”
The thought of what he would say to Reagan flashed through Reed’s mind, but he brushed it aside. Nathan’s serious manner was making him curious and apprehensive. He swallowed.
“I promise.” He didn’t like the squeak in his own voice.
“I believe you,” said Nathan quietly. “But we have to wait until the belt is on. It’ll keep other ears from listening.”
The whistle sounded, and the conveyer belts creaked and began to roll. The teenagers scattered to their stations as parts began to appear beneath the machines. Nathan waited until everyone else was chattering busily before he spoke. “Do you remember what I said yesterday about being in a small group?”
Reed nodded.
Nathan blew out his breath. “That’s where I was going when you saw me last night.” He hesitated, then wiped his forehead with his arm. “See, every now and then, a group of kids gets together in one of the apartments. Even on a good night, there’s only a handful of us, but we stay for a couple hours.”
“What’s so secretive about that?” Reed shoved a wrapped part into its box.
“I’m coming to that,” said Nathan patiently. “I’m sure you got a rule sheet when you first moved into the Dorms. If you looked on the back, you might’ve noticed the rule against ‘unauthorized religious ceremonies.’ That’s what our group falls under. See, we’re Christians.”
Reed felt a dropping disappointment. That was it? Nathan was a Bible-thumper?
Nathan continued his explanation. “We’re not an approved religious group since the government hates us so much, so having these meetings is technically illegal.”
Suddenly, Reed was all ears. He might not care for religion, but his opinion of the government was much lower. “Hates you?”
“Definitely. They haven’t liked us for a long time, but since this new group came into power, ‘dislike’ has turned into flat-out hatred. That religious rule was aimed right at us. They’re hoping to snuff out Christianity on the Hill. We weren’t going to let them, so we took to meeting ‘underground.’ They know we’re here—the Council has eyes everywhere—but they haven’t been able to find us yet. You probably saw the cop in the street last night; he’s one of the guards they put on patrol, trying to sniff us out.”
Reed was becoming interested in spite of himself. Not because he cared about Nathan’s religion but because the whole idea of secret groups and underground meetings smacked of danger, secrecy, and even a hint of rebellion. “So you have a dozen kids going to illegal meetings every week. How do you keep that a secret?”
Nathan smiled as he wrapped a part. “We never meet at the same place twice in a row, and we’re not on any kind of schedule. We keep it low key and quiet.” He paused to find an empty box. “Anyway, you probably understand now what was going on last night and why I didn’t really want to tell you.”
“Yeah, sure. But, if everything’s changed around every time, how do you know when and where these things are?” Reed was genuinely intrigued.
“We pass the message to each other whenever we can—on the way to work, on the way home, you know. It works out pretty well.”
“So that’s why you talk to the receptionist sometimes,” said Reed, at last putting the pieces together.
“You noticed that, didn’t you?”
“Yeah,” Reed grinned sheepishly. “If you really want to know, I thought you… umm… had a crush on her.”
Nathan laughed, causing some of the other workers to glance in their direction. “Oh, no,” he said, regaining his composure. “We’re just friends—more like siblings really. We’re all like that in this group.”
Reed’s curiosity in this whatever-it-was of Nathan’s was growing. The mystery of the nameless teens and the intrigue of their underground operation sent a shot of adrenaline through his blood, quickening his pulse. It mixed with something else—a deep and empty emotion he couldn’t put a name to. It was like looking into a warm, glowing window from the cold outside.
“So have you always met in the apartments?”
“No, we used to hang out at the Dorms when we all lived there. A few of us moved into apartments at the end of last year so we could have a little more privacy. It’s a lot safer, too. It’s still risky, but God’s been good.”
A box from Reed’s stack conveniently tumbled to the floor, and he was obliged to crawl under the belt to retrieve it. “How did you ever have top-secret meetings in the Dorms?” he asked, reemerging and dusting off his shirt. “I mean, it’s not exactly the most private place in the world.”
Nathan hesitated, a box half-sealed in his hands. “No offense, but I don’t think I should say, because… well, because it’s secret. It would be dangerous to tell. It’s risky to be telling you any of this. I honestly never would have if you hadn’t seen me last night.”
Reed finally put into words a question that had been growing in the back of his mind. “If all this is so risky, then why? Why do you do it? Why do you risk all this just to get together and have a Bible study?”
It came out more derisively than Reed intended, but Nathan didn’t seem disturbed. “I don’t think you’ll understand, but there’s one answer for those questions. It’s not a religion; it’s… it’s more.”
More. The word stirred something deep within Reed, so deep he could hardly understand it. It came with a flicker of eagerness and longing.
But Nathan wasn’t finished. “I don’t know how else to describe it. It’s more than what anything else can offer, more than what anything else is worth or what it costs us. Danger, hardship, rejection—that’s nothing compared to it… or Him.”
Reed worked silently, pondering. Then he spoke again. “You’re right. I don’t understand. At all. Totally clueless.”
“I thought so,” said Nathan.
Reed returned the conversation to the earlier topic. “So are you the leader of this whatever-you-call-it group?”
Nathan shook his head. “Oh no, not me. That would be…” he stopped. “That would be someone else.” The sudden, guarded tone that dropped into his voice warned Reed against more questions.
The rest of the day was quiet between the neighbors. Reed pondered what he’d learned, guessing at what he had not, and tried to drop the whole thing from his mind, all of which met with minimal success.
Five o’clock came. As usual, Nathan was one of the first finished and out the door. Reed searched for a glimpse of him or the receptionist as he passed through the lobby, but saw neither.
When at last, cold, hungry, and pensive, he trudged up to the bus, his roommates were already there.
“Well?” Reagan asked promptly.
Reed had forgotten his promise. He searched his mind for something to say. “It was all a mistake. He just missed me in the crowd.”
“That’s it?” Reagan sounded let down.
“Yep,” said Reed, “pretty much.”
He wondered what Reagan would think if he knew the whole story.