Page 43 of The Dating Game

“Wait, Will is going on a mission trip next week?” I didn’t realize I’d spoken the question out loud until everyone stops talkingand looks at me.

“Will didn’t tell you that?” Hannah asks, then nods with realization. “I bet he didn’t tell you because they were having some last minute chaperone issues. For a second they thought they might have to cancel the trip because they didn’t have enough chaperones. Sort of my fault, since Luke had to back out because of, you know, our little scandal.” Her cheeks redden. “But it worked out in the end. Sarah Bochman agreed to go.”

“Sarah Bochman? Who is Sarah Bochman?” My voice comes out weirdly high-pitched, like I’m jealous or something. I’m so not. Just because I’m imagining Sarah Bochman as a gorgeous twenty-something woman with her sights set on Will doesn’t mean she is one.

“Oh, she’s one of the first grade teachers here,” Belinda supplies. “Really nice young woman. Pretty too,” she adds, proving that my imagination is always to be trusted.

“Not as pretty as you, Brooke,” Hannah adds loyally. “You have nothing to worry about.”

“Worried?” I squeak. “I’m not worried. Why would I be worried?” I think I said worried too many times. Now everyone in the room knows that I’m totally worried. I grab the water bottle on the table next to me and start sucking water down like my biggest concern in life is hydration (which, admittedly,istypically true), not whether or not Will is going to fall in love with the pretty teacher while they’re off preaching the word of God to people.

Goodness. The two of them basically deserve to fall in love with each other with their hearts of gold.

Meanwhile I have a heart of stone. That’s the only explanation for how I can date this saint of a man as a bet. It was easy to not feel bad about it when he was honking at me and making me sit in a trash pit and mansplaining golf tome, but now that I know he spends most of his time doing good deeds and he has a dead sister he still mourns and he can dance like flipping Fred Astaire, well, I’m feeling all the guilt.

All of it. Seriously, somewhere there’s a criminal who five minutes ago was feeling bad about his crime, but now no longer does because I TOOK ALL THE GUILT!

I set my water bottle down and attempt to take a deep breath.

“Brooke? Honey, are you okay?” Hannah is at my side now, rubbing my shoulders comfortingly.

Which begs the question: why does she think I need to be comforted?! Is it because she knows that after this mission trip it’s ba-bye, Brooke, hello, Sarah!

Oh goodness. I’m unhinged. This is what happens when you stay out till midnight salsa dancing then turn around and wake up at seven am to study the Bible and paint: your brain simply can’t handle the juxtaposition between the two activities and it ends up mutinying against its role as the thought center of your body.

“Maybe she needs more water,” another woman says and a second later my giant water bottle is shoved back in my face, inexplicably followed by a granola bar and a box of tissues.

“Maybe she needs some air,” Jill declares. “We should all give her some space.” Nobody moves.

“Maybe she needs to go on the mission trip,” Belinda suggests with a mischievous lilt to her voice. I’ve heard that tone in her voice before—the night she claimed Hannah and Luke were just going through a third act breakup. It’s her I-see-a romcom-moment-developing tone. “Mark her territory.”

“She’s not a dog,” Jill interjects on my behalf.

“And Will isn’t a fire hydrant,” Hannah adds with a laugh.

“Red is my favorite color, though,” a familiar voice comments, and all ten of us whirl around to see Luke and Will standing in thedoorway; both in running clothes, the latter looking so good in his appropriately-lengthed shorts. My thoughts volley between appreciation of his physique and complete mortification as I wonder how much of our conversation he overheard.

“Good thing red is his favorite color,” Jill murmurs so only I can hear, “that means he’ll like your face right now. So red.”

Big sisters. Always good for a reality check.

“Luke!” Hannah hurries over to greet him and because everyone in here is Team Luke + Hannah, they all start oohing and ahhing over their hug and quick kiss. I’m all about the distraction from me, though, because it gives me a few seconds to look at Will, who, it should be noted, is looking right back, an amused little smile on his face. He definitely heard Belinda tell me to mark him as my territory.

First chance I get I’m going to steal her current read and rip out the happy ending.

I school my features into my very best calm, cool, and collected expression, hoping my cheeks have cooled enough for it to be convincing.

Will’s smile only grows wider, though, like he can see right through my bravado.

Hmmphh. What blast of solar radiation did he encounter to suddenly have emotional x-ray vision?

“We didn’t mean to interrupt,” Luke says to everyone, settling an arm loosely around Hannah’s waist as if he can’t stand not to touch her. They’re sickeningly sweet, the two of them. “We just finished up a run on the trails outside so I thought we’d swing by and see how the first Art and the Bible class is going.”

“More like you insisted we run on these trails so we could stop by and see Hannah after,” Will teases him. Luke doesn’t look at all embarrassed.

“That is accurate,” he says, staring adoringly down at my little sister, who giggles.

I tell you what, those two have “Going to the Chapel” written all over them. Figures that I, the middle sister, would be the last to get married. Jill and Hannah have always been far more remarkable than me.

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