Page 4 of The Escape Room

“Is that bad?”

I peered through a clear pane in the stained glass and said, “It’s not great. From what I can see, the traffic lights are out, and all the buildings on the block are dark. But the city’s used to dealing with stuff like this, so the power will probably be back soon.”

“That’s true. No need to panic.” Ryan came closer and smiled at me. “You’re tall. I like that.”

“Not really. I’m five-eleven.”

“Well, when you’re five-foot-seven, everyone seems tall.”

“I suppose so.”

“Sorry I was late, by the way,” he said. “I came straight from work. I’m a barista, and the guy who was supposed to take over for me never showed. I had to beg and plead to get out of there. Finally, my manager said he was letting me go just to shut me up.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I feel bad about keeping you waiting. Plus, it doesn’t make a very good first impression.”

I decided not to tell him that ship had already sailed, back at the bar. Instead, I muttered, “It’s fine. Really.”

He was dressed in black jeans and a form-fitting black T-shirt, which emphasized his slender body. When he touched his cheek, I noticed his short nails were polished in pale blue. “Normally, I would have done my makeup before a date. I’d have worn something more fun, too. But I was already late, so I had to skip all of that.” He had a soft voice, and a note of self-consciousness crept in when he added, “I hope you’re not too disappointed. I wanted to look nice for you, not so ordinary.”

That insecurity made him seem vulnerable all of a sudden, and I told him, “You look great.” He perked up a bit and flashed me a smile.

Just then, Benji rattled the doorknobs and called, “Are you guys alright?”

I crossed the room and tried the door, too. “We’re fine, but how do we get out of here?”

“I have no idea. I thought the doors would unlock automatically when the power went out. Hang on, let me try calling my uncle.”

I turned to Ryan, who was right beside me. He was holding one of the pillar candles above his head and looking at its base, and he said, “Did you know these are fake? It’s made to look like a flickering candle, but there’s a bulb inside it and a battery door on the bottom. Why would anyone want something like this?”

“Because real candles are dangerous.”

“They’re also pretty, and romantic. This is kind of meh.” He looked around and added, “But since the sun’s setting, I guess it’s a good thing we have these fake-ass candles. It’s going to be pitch black in here pretty soon.”

He was right about that. I knocked on the door and asked, “What’s your uncle saying?”

Benji called, “Just a minute.”

Ryan carried the candle over to the bookshelves and started perusing the titles. Then he asked, “What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a fifth-grade science teacher.”

“I was sure you were going to say you’re a dancer.”

“Why?”

“Because of the way you carry yourself.”

“Well, you’re not wrong. I’ve been studying ballet since I was five, and I’m part of a dance troupe here in Oakland, but that’s just for fun. I don’t dance for a living.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not good enough. I was great when I was a kid, but not anymore. At my age, there’s not much chance of turning things around.”

He returned to my side and asked, “How old are you?”

“Thirty-one. What about you?”