39 Prayer Circle Perturbation by Gabrielle Utrie I’m careful to keep my arms still at my sides as I walk behind Evilyn and Olivia to the church library. I can’t believe my luck; Pastor John assigned me to pray with the coolest girl I knew and the only girl who could properly balance warmth and wit, respectively. My arms scream to swing. Which brings me to the challenge of today: I can’t do anything that will isolate me from them. No fidgeting, no incorrect expressions, and no strange conversation topics. I haven’t quite become fluent in their body language and facial expressions yet, so if I want the next five months to go smoothly, I have to stay on guard so I don’t mess this up. Smile. No teeth. The curve of a slightly flattened macaroni noodle. I pull the pleasant expression onto my face as we arrive at the library and sit at a table. I press my arms into the cool, glossy wood. The grounding effect of the chill should be enough to keep me from fidgeting. “Alright,” Evilyn looks between us. “What should we pray for?” “Well, energy on the trip,” Olivia suggests, “and that the campers’ hearts will be open to receive the Gospel.” Evilyn nods, and I mimic the motion’s speed and its one, two, three bobs. Squint your eyes and crinkle your eyebrows over them. Focus on their irises. Walnut shell black and stormy lake blue. Not enough. Feels distant. Lean forward. “The flight,” I suggest, as I fold my arms to angle myself in. It’s safe because a fear of flying isn’t that strange and I’ve already talked about it before. They nod and a little
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