finally pouring a mug of coffee and then, contrary to his usual character, he douses it with cream and sugar before coming over to stand in front of me. He offers up the mug while the other four boys gape at us like we've just started having a wild rut in front of them. This time, when Church hands me the cup and tries to keep our fingers from touching, I thread mine through his and he goes completely still. Our eyes meet, and a hot cord of tension runs between us, invisible but powerful and potent anyway.
