Page 80 of The Dating Game

“There’s a window back here!” one calls.

“Will? Brooke? You okay in there?” another voice shouts. I recognize it as Tim, one of the other chaperones. At the same instance Will and I surge toward the window, raising our voices together to shout about our presence.

“We’re in here!” I cry.

“Tim! Is that you?” Will bellows. A few seconds later Tim appears in the window. His face is streaked with dirt, but he appears unharmed.

“Oh thank God!” he breathes as he takes us in. “You’re okay!”

“Yes, we’re fine, just stuck,” Will says at the same time that I say, “Will needs medical attention.”

“Brooke, I’m fine,” Will says with a sigh.

“He had a giant piece of glass in his neck, and probably needs stitches or at least an intense round of antibiotics,” I tell Tim, ignoring him. “Look.” I hold up the blood-soaked tissues toemphasize my point. I may be wrong on both counts, but either way, I’ll feel better once a medical professional has confirmed that it’s “just a cut”–as Will so blithely put it.

“Oh wow.” Thankfully Tim is appropriately alarmed. “Yeah, we should get that looked at. Building is blocked from the front, though,” he explains. “Ceiling caved in. You guys are lucky not to be buried beneath all this rubble.” A chill runs through me at his words. Had we really been that close to death? “Guess you have some angels to thank for that,” he adds.

“What about the kids?” Will asks.

“Yes, the ones sorting food in the back room,” I chime in. “Are they okay?”

“Miraculously they are,” he confirms. “Only the ceiling on the front half of the building caved in. All of the kids are present and accounted for, albeit shaken up.” He grimaces. “No pun intended.”

Relief surges through me, and next to me Will breathes out a massive sigh of his own.

“You two were the last ones we were looking for,” Tim goes on. “Simon fell and bumped his head, so he was disoriented for a while. Didn’t realize we were looking for you guys, then finally he seemed to get his wits back and told us he’d sent you inside for water.” As he’s been talking he’s been studying the bars as if looking for a way to get them off. “I think these are attached from the inside. If I can get a sledgehammer or a hacksaw we should be able to get them off.”

“Unfortunately I left my hacksaw at home today,” Will says wryly. Tim grins.

“Glad you’ve still got your sense of humor, my friend,” he quips. “There’s a fire truck out front, I’m sure they’ll be able to help. Guess I don’t have to tell you two to stay put,” he adds with a wink. “Be back in a jiff.”

Tim disappears, but a second later a new face pops up in the window: Silas.

“Will!” he exclaims. “You’re okay!” His relief is palpable. I don’t miss the tremor in his voice or the absence of his usual swagger and jokey vibe.

“Silas, hey, yeah, I’m all good.” Will steps closer to the window and the two exchange words, Will managing to reach through the bars to squeeze Silas on the shoulder. Not wanting to invade their privacy I angle my body away from them slightly, but then I still watch them out of the corner of my eye.

Affection for Will swells inside me like a wave building in its intensity before it crashes to the shore, then slowly ebbs back into the sea as if it didn’t just take part in shifting the very coastline. Like such a wave, Will came crashing into my life and somehow managed to shift the entire coastline of my heart without me even noticing. I can’t say when it happened but somewhere between meeting Will on a plane ride to my death and surviving an earthquake together, I fell in love with him.

Holy moly. I love Will Barrett.

Has anything outside of God’s love for us ever been a more real truth?

Fact: I love Will Barrett.

Fact-check: I really, really love Will Barrett.

It’s a giddy, wonderful bubble of a feeling this love I have for Will. But bubbles are fragile and easily popped. All it would take is him not loving me back.

Chapter 29

Will

I’mexhausted,and,despitewhat I told Brooke, my neck is killing me. As soon as the firemen got us out of the building she insisted a medical professional tend to me. Thankfully the paramedics confirmed that my wound was nothing major. They doused it with antiseptic cream, bandaged it up, and told me to try and take it easy.

Easier said than done when I’ve got 54 teenagers in need of trauma therapy, a collapsed neighborhood in desperate need of people to help, and nowhere to sleep tonight since the church—though still mostly structurally intact—has dozens of broken windows and has been deemed not fit for human habitation. Not to mention the fact that power came back on about thirty minutes ago and my phone has been ringing off the hook with calls from concerned parents.

Thankfully Brooke took over handling that, declaring that as a dance instructor she’s dealt with her fair share of parents—angry, concerned, threatening a lawsuit…she swears she has seen it all. Meanwhile, since she has mine, I borrowed her phone to try and find a hotel for us to stay in for the night.

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