Free Even If the Sky Falls by Mia Garcia Page A

the archways, glowing, breathing, and warm. If I close my eyes I can hear Father Lopez giving his Sunday sermon.
    I see Adam sitting on a bench, and my step catches. When I open my eyes, he is gone. The doors shouldn’t havebeen open, I think, and we should not be here.
    â€œI don’t think this was a good idea.”
    â€œWant to go back outside with the drunks?”
    I shake my head, pushing old Julie away. Not letting her creep into every thought. This is new Julie’s night. No squares permitted.
    â€œIt’s a place of worship, pretty sure we’re allowed.”
    â€œOnly during business hours,” I quip.
    His laugh travels the way of my footsteps, and though it fades, the memory of it lingers and lightens my spirit.
    â€œSad, right? That you can’t just walk into a church when you need one. Isn’t that the purpose of them? Sanctuary and all.” He faces the expanse and yells, “Sanctuary! Sanctuary!”
    I shake my head and he gets louder, so I reach up and clasp a hand over his mouth, his words echoing. Somewhere a door bursts open behind the giant pillars and we both Red-Light freeze like carefree children.
    â€œGreen light!” I whisper, and we duck behind the nearest pew.
    â€œNicely done,” he says, crouching, and I beam. You’re not always lucky enough to find your Red Light, Green Light soul mate. We can’t see anything. I wait for footsteps but nothing comes. We hear the door close, creaking, and we are plunged back into silence.
    â€œMaybe we should go,” I say again.
    â€œLet’s sit a while; it’s quieter here than in all of Orleans. We’ll miss it later.”
    It’s true, I feel calmer the more I think about it. Miles takes my hand, and we walk over to a set of pews, toward the back, as hidden as possible.
    â€œIt’s quiet like this that pulls out every truth in your soul,” he says, then turns to me. “Can you feel it?”
    I can, but I don’t want to. I’m not quick enough to hide the emotions flashing across my face, and I know Miles sees my fear, my sadness, before I can hide them away.
    â€œOkay?” he asks, and I nod.
    Lies, lies, lies. But I can live with these lies for tonight, though perhaps one truth will help. “I just think my truths are good where they are right now.”
    â€œFair enough,” he says.
    I take a seat, and Miles lies down on the pew behind me. Part of me wishes he’d taken the seat next to me, but something about the distance feels right at the moment. Having him so close for so long is making it hard to think.
    Leaning his banjo to one side, Miles stretches out on the pew. “Yeah, this is more like it.” A wink. I roll my eyes.
    â€œSo.” He sits back up, a smile on his face. “Questions, Questions time!”
    Miles’s excitement for the night feels like a constant thing, effortless, natural. Makes me want to drown in it. “Okay.”
    He shifts toward me, resting his head on the back of my pew, a wicked little grin on his face. “Pets.”
    â€œNot a one.” I picture a dog with the same amount of energy as Miles bounding in front of him as they walk.
    â€œReally, you’ve never had any pets?”
    â€œNot even a goldfish.”
    â€œStrict parents?”
    â€œI guess. I’m allergic to dogs so I had to set myself up for a lifetime of disappointment. I don’t think cats are supposed to be pets—more like very expensive roommates that occasionally look like they want to kill you.”
    â€œBirds?”
    I shiver. “No way. Have you seen the movie The Birds ? They can’t be trusted either. Besides, allergies.”
    â€œHow do you cope?”
    â€œKleenex and a deep sense of longing. Lots of waving at dogs from across the street. You?”
    He leans back on his pew, hands behind his head. “I had a cat—or a roommate, as you say. It was a street cat that I fed once,