Page 23 of It's a Brewtiful Day

“Yeah.” His inhales and exhales were sharp.

“The shelves wrap around the wall?”

“Briefly. We’re almost there.”

Hearing his voice, even if it was peppered in paralyzing panic, somehow soothed me, but I needed him to be okay too.

“Betcha you had better plans tonight than to be trapped inside the coffee shop, eh?” I wasn’t going to be showing up at the high school gym. No big loss on my part and Alice and Cassie would have nothing to say about it either, since this was far beyond my control.

“I was supposed to be at a volunteer meeting.”

“Oh, yeah? For the festival?”

Shuffling to the side, I took a couple of steps and my hand touched nothing but stale air. Gripping the cold metal pole, I inched forward, bracing myself to touch something hard, like a cardboard box or a metal locker. A ribbon of terror wove through my thoughts as I worried what I’d do if I hit anything soft, like a human that wasn’t Elliot, or felt something creepy cross over the open part of my flats.

“Yup. I’ve helped out for the past couple of years. I love it.”

“Bit of a geek, are you?” I laughed. Most of the guys I’d been interested in would never be considered geeks. Wait? What? Why was I thinking that?

Finally, my hand connected with a flat metal surface. Whew. “The lockers. Found them.”

Elliot’s hand touched my left arm and a shock of tingles swarmed my belly. “Okay, I’m going to goaround you, and head toward mine.” His hands cupped my waist—and my heart did a swift uptake in speed—as he moved behind me, ending up on my right. His voice was breathy—and warm—as his whispered words brushed over my ears. “Gosh dang it. It’s so dark.”

The clank of metal locks against the metal lockers filled the space with a loud, alarming noise. With each clatter, I cowered for a heartbeat.

“Trying to find my locker. I’m near the corner.” More clanking and banging. “Think this is mine.” But under his breath, he said, “I hope.”

I shuffled toward his voice, still sliding along. “Keep talking.”

“Seriously? That feels dumb.”

“Just tell me what you’re doing.” Using a weak form of echolocation, I could zero in on exactly how close or far away he was. I was keeping him close for his own sanity, and likely for my own, if I was being honest with myself.

A long, lingering breath snuck out of him; he was on my left somewhere. “Okay, okay. I’m holding the lock, in my left hand.”

“Good.”

“And with my right hand, I’m feeling where the little arrow is.” The dial twisted. It was amazing, all the sounds I’d never paid attention to before were suddenly crystal clear now. “Turning it clockwise. Once. Twice. Gee, I hope this is twenty, it’s so hard to tell.”

I nodded, not that he could see it.

“Twisting it counterclockwise. Is this enough description, or do you want more?” His tone was laced in easy, yet good-natured, sarcasm.

“That’s good. Perfect, in fact. I like a play-by-play.”

A low, yet audible grumble rolled out of him as metal clanked against metal. “Dang it. It didn’t work.”

“It’s okay. Try again.”

Thinking he was close enough to reassuringly pat his shoulder, I reached out, but I didn’t connect with anything. Sadly, he was just out of reach but having a modicum of confidence, I stopped touching the locker and took a bravely blind step toward his voice.

As I stepped down, my foot landed on something soft and squishy, and fearing what I had just touched, I double-stepped and lurched forward. Losing my balance in the process, I landed on a small cardboard box, which crushed beneath my foot. Instinctively, I tossed my hands out in front of me while I struggled to keep upright. Once, twice, my feet hit the floor at an awkward angle. Like a crash I couldn’t avoid, I completely stumbled and slammed my forehead into a metal locker as I fell.

Whimpering and groaning, but still, amazingly enough, standing, I twisted and leaned my back against the locker embarrassed and red-faced which gratefully Elliot couldn’t see. Tenderly, I touched the throbbing area of my forehead.

“What the beans happened?” There was so much concern in his voice, it was charming.

“I tripped.”

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