“Um. Yeah. Kind of. I mean, I’m just learning how to use them, and they’re kind of fickle—but they came in handy tonight, didn’t they?”

“Heck, yeah, they did!” April squealed. “Did you see the look on that guy’s face when he hit the ground? Seriously, that was the coolest thing ever. He was all like, ‘Come here, defenseless little girl,’ and then you were like, ‘Bam! Take that, suck-face! I’ve got superpowers!’ ”

I laughed. “Um, you’re kind of forgetting about the part where he knocked me down and was about to take my face off.”

“Yes, but that’s why the universe created boys like Talbot. Those other guys practically peed their pants when they saw him.”

“Yeah, didn’t you think that was kind of weird? I mean, what was a guy like Nathan Talbot doing there, anyway? He didn’t exactly mesh with the crowd.”

“Tal,” she said, emphasizing the nickname he’d told her his friends used, “is probably a DD.”

“A what?”

“Part of the designated-driver program at the university. He’s probably like the resident adviser for one of the dorms. I bet he could get those guys kicked out of school for being tools. That’s probably why they backed off, but it’s still cool the way he swooped in to save us like that.”

I cringed. I absolutely hated that someone had had to “swoop in” to save me. I had abilities, and if only I could figure out how to use them the right way, I wouldn’t need some random guy to come to my rescue.

April giggled. “And it doesn’t hurt, either, if your knight in green-and-blue plaid just happens to be hot.”

I laughed. “You know, just because a guy looks nice and seems nice … doesn’t mean he is.” I’d learned that all too well with Pete Bradshaw last year.

“Oh. My. Gosh.” April shouted so loud I slammed on the breaks, thinking we were about to hit a dog or something. But April bounced in her seat with the craziest smile on her face, like she’d just thought of the best idea since nail polish. “Okay, sorry to segue away from the hotness that is Talbot, but I have to ask: if you’re gonna be a superhero, can I be your sidekick?”

“What?” I gaped at April, hoping she was kidding—but of course, she wasn’t.

“Dynamic Duo,” she crooned, waving her finger between me and her.

“Um, I’m pretty sure sidekicks have to have superpowers, too,” I said gently, sorry to break the news to her.

April’s crazy smile faded. “Oh, yeah.” But then she popped up in her seat again. “Okay, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be your Alfred.”

“My Alfred?”

“You know, I can, like, help you design gadgets and stuff. Oh!” Her eyes went wide. “I can design you outfits for crime fighting!”

“I’m just in training, April. I don’t think I need—”

“Oh, come on, Grace. It would be perfect for my Trenton portfolio. I want to get into their fashion design program, and Katie already has more experience than I do. Please?” April made puppy-dog eyes at me and clasped her hands together.

I couldn’t help laughing. “Okay. Sure. But no spandex.”

April yelped with joy and threw her arms around my shoulders as I drove. I really had no need for superhero costumes or gadgets of any kind, but I guessed this meant we really were best friends again. “At least something good came out of tonight,” I said out loud.

April let go of me and sat back down in her seat. We were just pulling into her neighborhood. “So are you going to tell Daniel about what happened tonight?”

“Good question.” Except I wished she hadn’t brought it up. Any joy I’d felt in the last few minutes faded away as I thought about having to tell Daniel that I’d broken my word to him and gone looking for Jude on my own. And even if I hadn’t technically been alone … I wasn’t sure I was up for the reaction I’d get when I told him I’d almost gotten maimed in the process. Not to mention that because April and I had caused such a scene at the club, we’d probably ruined any minute chance of finding Jude through that lead.

And I didn’t know why, but for some reason I felt uncomfortable telling Daniel about Talbot’s coming to my rescue. Like maybe he’d worry there was something between this new guy and me when there totally wasn’t.

“I will,” I said to April before she got out of the car. “Eventually.”

CHAPTER TEN

Barriers

SUNDAY MORNING

Church was cancelled for the second week in a row because Dad was still gone. He’d been gone for two and a half weeks straight now—his longest trip yet.

When Mom first started sending him out to look for Jude, he’d always made it a point to be back for Sunday services. I mean, it was bad enough when he missed teaching his Wednesday Bible study class. This was our livelihood, after all.

However, lately, his trips had gotten longer and longer, and today made the fifth Sunday he’d missed in the last twelve weeks, and the third time he’d forgotten—or hadn’t bothered—to make arrangements for someone else to cover for him and give the sermon.

Mom woke up in one of her overbearing manic states, and she made Charity and me call every single one of the parishioners to tell them church was cancelled, and to apologize on my dad’s behalf—even though she was the reason he’d left in the first place. But the thing was, the list of families to call kept getting shorter each time Dad missed a Sunday.

People used to come from all over Rose Crest and Oak Park, and even parts of Apple Valley, to hear the gospel from Pastor Divine. But more and more of Dad’s once loyal parishioners were defecting to Pastor Clark over at New Hope—and every time Dad missed a sermon there were rumblings about the parish needing a new pastor.

The more sympathetic folks I called suggested that Dad bring in a junior pastor who would always be on call to substitute when he was gone—and perhaps pick up teaching the religion classes at the school, since Mr. Shumway had quit. But a couple of the more frustrated and rude parishioners grumbled about needing to replace Dad altogether, even if the parish had been in the hands of the Divines for the last three decades. I wondered if they would still feel the same way if I came right out and told them Dad was gone because he was looking for Jude.