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When we reach the tree line, I scan the land below me. Pastor Green’s house can be seen from up here, tucked back behind an outcropping of trees and out of sight, with the church on the main road lit up like a beacon and two other buildings behind it on either side but a good distance away. One of them is registered with the city as a gathering place. The other is still under construction but will eventually have an indoor pool and a gym for members of the congregation. As I walk the inner edge of the tree line toward the building that has light shining through its windows, cars begin to pull in and park, and kids start making their way into the building.
“They probably wouldn’t even have noticed if we parked in the lot,” Miles mutters from my side, and I glance over at his shadowy figure.
He’s been quiet and didn’t even mention what went down with Bowie in the locker rooms. Then again, what is there to say? We both know he’s an idiot for tossing away a woman like Miranda for someone like Naomie.
“Probably not,” I agree, crossing my arms over my chest as we wait so no one will see us coming down the hill behind the building.
When there hasn’t been another car for a few minutes, the two of us start to leave the tree line but stop when the back door to the building opens. We duck back into the shadows as light streams out onto the concrete slab where there are chairs and a fire pit set up, and the kids begin to flood outside. Steven is the last to step out the door, and he walks over to the fire pit, lighting it while the boys and girls in the group mess around like kids do. Taking out my binoculars, I scan the crowd of about fifty kids and find Livy sitting on a boy’s lap and Isabel chatting with another girl.
It doesn’t take long for the gathering to go from just some teens hanging out to them passing around what my guess is a joint, while Steven holds court among a group of guys who, like him, are all tall and good-looking. When Isabel approaches Steven, he tosses his arm around her shoulders and says something against her ear that makes her laugh loud enough for us to hear from our vantage point.
“How much do you want to bet that none of their parents know what’s really going on at youth group?” I pass the binoculars to Miles.
“I’m not taking that bet,” he mutters, scanning the kids. “I think I found a weak link.” He passes them back to me, and I follow his finger as I lift them to my eyes. I spot who he’s talking about instantly. A young guy, probably fourteen or fifteen, sitting alone while watching the group, looking uncomfortable.
As the group hangs out, Isabel and Steven start to make out, and no one seems to find it surprising when the two of them disappear inside for about twenty minutes. Though they aren’t the only couple who goes into the building for more than a few minutes before coming back out to join everyone again. It’s obvious from watching that this is all normal for them, and it’s not just a night of kids being kids and pushing boundaries.
“Did Steven send over the list of names for the teens who attend youth group?” Miles asks as we watch them start to head back inside after about an hour longer.
“He sent it over this afternoon,” I tell him, as the kids leaving through the front door and getting in their cars.
“I’ll start checking social media tonight and put some names to faces.”
“We’ll split it in half.” I look over at him. “There were almost two hundred kids on the list he sent, and only about fifty were here tonight.”
“They aren’t hiding what they’re doing.” We watch the lights in the building go out, then a few minutes later, Steven and Isabel appear together, and the two of them get into his black BMW. “Even if most of the kids here tonight didn’t seem to have an issue with smoking weed and partying, I’d bet there are a whole lot of kids who’ve signed up for youth group and felt uncomfortable when they’ve walked into an evening like that one.” He mumbles.
“You don’t think any of them have told their parents?”
“Maybe they did.” He pulls out his flashlight. “And they didn’t believe them, or it could be that those kids are all popular, and I know you remember how it was back in school. If you were popular you could get away with anything, no one wanted to be on your bad side. It might be why Kristen stopped attending and separated herself from Isabel and Livy,” We turn toward the woods and make our way back to where we both parked.
