Slammed

follow behind him. It's dark outside and the temperature has dropped since earlier in the day. I become increasingly concerned as we make our way to Will's house. I know Kel and Caulder wouldn't be outside this time of night. If they aren’t in one of the houses, I don't know where they could be.
     
    Will makes a quick run of his house. I don't feel comfortable walking through it since I’ve never really been further than the kitchen, so I stand in the doorway and wait.
     
    "They aren't here," he says, unable to hide the uncertainty in his voice. My hands go to my mouth as I gasp, fully realizing the seriousness of the situation. Will can see the fear in my eyes and he puts his arms around me.
     
    "We'll find them. They’re just off playing somewhere." His reassurance is brief as he lets go and heads back out the front door. "Check the backyard; I'll meet you out front," he says.
     
    We are both calling the boys’ names when the panic rises up in my chest. It reminds me of the time I was babysitting Kel when he was four, and I thought I had lost him. I searched the entire house for twenty minutes before finally breaking down and calling my mother. She immediately called the police who arrived within minutes. They were still searching when she finally made it home-the panic in her eyes when she walked through the door cut through me and we both started to cry. After searching for over fifteen minutes, an officer found Kel passed out on the folded towels in the bathroom cabinet. Apparently he had been hiding from me when he fell asleep.
     
    I’m hoping to find the same sense of relief when I look through Will’s backyard, but they aren’t here. I make my way around the side of his house and see Will standing in the driveway, staring inside his car. When he sees me running toward him, his finger goes up to his mouth, instructing me to be quiet. I peer into the backseat where Kel and Caulder are both crouched in the floorboard, their fingers and hands clamped together in the shape of guns; they're both passed out.
     
    I breathe a sigh of relief.
     
    “ They would make horrible guards,” he whispers.
     
    “ Yeah, they sure would.”
     
    We both stand there, staring at our little brothers. Will's arm goes around me and he gives my shoulders a quick squeeze. His hug doesn't linger at all though, so I know it's nothing more than a gesture expressing relief that our brothers are safe.
     
    "Hey, before you wake them up, I've got something of yours inside." He walks toward his house so I follow him inside and into the kitchen.
     
    My heart is still pounding against my chest, although I can't distinguish if it's the aftermath of the search for our brothers, or if it's just being in Will's presence.
     
    He pulls something out of his satchel and hands it to me. "Your keys" he says as he drops them into my hand.
     
    "Oh, thanks," I say, somewhat disappointed. I don’t know what I expected him to have but I was fantasizing that maybe it was his resignation letter.
     
    "It's running fine now. You should be able to drive it home tomorrow." He makes his way to his couch and sits.
     
    "What? You fixed it?" I say.
     
    "Well, I didn't fix it. I know a guy who was able to put an alternator on it this afternoon."
     
    His comparison in the parking lot comes back to mind. Somehow I doubt he would have an alternator put on any other student's vehicle.
     
    "Will, you didn't have to do that," I say as I sit beside him on the couch. "Thanks though. I'll pay you back."
     
    "Don't worry about it. You guys have helped me a lot with Caulder lately, it's the least I can do."
     
    And yet again, I'm at a loss for what to say next. It feels like that first day I was standing in his kitchen, contemplating my next move after he helped me with my bandage. I know I should get up and leave, but I like being here next to him. Even if I am finding myself in his debt again. I finally find the confidence to speak again.
     
    "So, can we finish our conversation from earlier?"
     
    He adjusts himself in the couch and props his feet on the coffee table in front of us. "That depends," he says. "Did you come up with a solution?"
     
    "Well, no," I reply, just as a possible solution comes to mind. I lean my head against the back of the couch and meekly suggest my idea.
     
    "Suppose these feelings we have just get more… complex." I pause for a moment. I'm not sure how he's going to take this new suggestion of mine, so I tread