Prism - By Rachel Moschell Page 0,20

Nazaret wouldn’t be thrilled about hanging out with the guys all day tomorrow; Noah was already like a brother to her, always over at the Martirs’ wrestling with her little siblings or mowing the lawn. And Wara didn’t think she was ready to hang out with Noah yet. She needed time to think about this.

To squash the hope that right now was blooming to life.

“Uh…thanks. But we should just let you guys have guy time,” Wara said.

“Yeah, tomorrow Wara and I were going to spend some time alone,” Nazaret grinned at them. “Set our priorities straight. Mediate. All that.”

“Suit yourselves,” Tobias waved them away, pretending to be offended.

“Your loss. You miss seeing us without our t-shirts in the waterfall.” Tobin, ever the clown.

Wara could barely compose herself enough to cheek-smooch all the guys goodbye and make it back to the hotel.

There must be some reason God was doing this.

And it had to be something good?

Right?

7

white plaster

ALEJO SHUT THE METAL DOOR OF THE orange three-story house he shared with Gabriel and Benjamin and stepped out onto the lazy peaceful street only a Thursday morning in Coroico could deliver. And only in Coroico could one have a view such as Alejo and the guys had every time they stepped out their front door.

Their front steps lowered to a street with a steep downward slope, rushing down the mountain and leaving a breath-taking view of jade mountains peaks and scarlet flowering trees in the distance. Their street was just a narrow lane of stone stairs, really, used only for foot traffic. A corridor of tangerine and violet flowers grew wild in the dirt, forming a living rainbow along the center of the staircase.

Gabriel sat on the second step from the top, elbows propped on his knees, staring at the clouds misting up over the trees in the distance. He wore a turtleneck, as he had every day since the attack in Pakistan a month ago. His pale green eyes reflected the weak rays of the early morning sun, glazed, vacant, and bleak.

Alejo sighed and covered the few steps to slide down onto the cool concrete step next to him. “’Morning,” Alejo croaked, then cleared his throat. “I think we’re late to breakfast.”

Gabriel half-turned towards him and parted his lips, tried to think of something to say, then gave up. His gaze went back to the mist in the distance.

“You sure you want to come along this weekend?” Alejo pressed his lips together. “You can take more time off, you know.” After Alejo got the call from Ishmael in Peshawar, the twenty hour trip from here to Gabriel had seemed to take forever. Gabriel had recovered well since that day, but the playfulness seemed to be gone from his eyes. Most of his free time was spent praying or playing really melancholy music on the violin his parents gave him.

“I know,” Gabriel nodded. He swatted at a mosquito that was whining its way around his ear. “I rested a lot last week though, at Mom’s house. She about had a heart attack when you called her and told her about the skiing accident in France. Stupid person who installed barbed wire on the slopes.” His mouth twitched and some of the old sparkle glowed in Gabriel’s eyes. “I mean, what a freak accident, right? Running into wire at neck level while skiing?”

Now even Alejo almost laughed. That’s where Gabriel’s family thought he went when he disappeared with his friends for weeks at time: skiing in France. It felt good to smile. Gabriel seemed happy thinking about his mom, and the week at her house had fattened him up a bit.

“It’s just, I feel weird, you know,” Gabriel sighed, still batting at the stupid mosquito. “Like I shouldn’t be here. I mean, I see how pretty everything is here in Coroico, and I am so happy to be alive. But I should be dead.” One of his hands drifted to his throat and Gabriel’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “God gave me back my life, but now I feel that my life has to totally belong to him, you know? And what if I don’t do what he wants? What if I mess up?” Gabriel paused, and wrinkled his nose. “Does that make any sense?”

“God wouldn’t save your life just so you can feel all tortured about it,” Alejo frowned. “He saved you because he loves you, not so you can be his slave the rest of your life.”

Gabriel looked at Alejo, one sandy eyebrow raised. “Yeah,