“Are you okay?” Grace asked.
“I’m fine,” Audrey muttered. “I just,” she began, right as Grace gave a startled exclamation, “You’re afraid of heights! Oh my gosh, Audrey, I’m so sorry! I forgot!”
“It’s okay,” Audrey said. With all Grace had been through the last year she wouldn’t expect her to remember. After all, Grace hadn’t even been with her the last time she’d ridden the Ferris wheel. She’d been with Harlow, who had spent the whole terrifying ride telling her funny stories. It had worked, too, until Audrey made the mistake of looking down. That’s when the screaming started.
To distract herself, she looked at the brown shoebox and began to lift the lid.
“Don’t open it!” Grace slammed her hand down on the top of the box.
Audrey jerked backward. “Why not?” she asked.
“The box is from Julia and Erin for Harlow. It’s some sort of prank.”
Audrey stared at the box curiously. “What do you think is inside?”
Grace shook her head. “I just know they were talking about a prank at the Ferris wheel at midnight. That’s all I know. Knowing Julia and Erin, it’s something nasty, though.”
Audrey nodded and slid the box away. “You’re right—Julia asked me to send Harlow a text asking her to come here.” Her cheeks flushed, and she became flustered. “I didn’t do it, though.” She looked away from Grace and stared at the inky sky as their cart continued to rise, careful not to look down.
“I sent you the pumpkin gram so we could—I don’t know—help her somehow, if she showed up. But there was another reason, too.” Grace paused. She sounded formal, like this was a speech she’d been practicing.
“Yeah?” Audrey prompted. She needed something else to think about. The carts were full and the ride was starting up. Her stomach dropped as the wheel began to spin.
“I guess I just wanted to say I was sorry,” Grace said.
“Sorry?” Audrey said, startled. “For what?”
Grace couldn’t meet her eyes. “For not talking to you. For just . . . not being your friend this year.”
“You don’t need to apologize,” Audrey said quietly. “I might have done the same thing.”
A heavy silence filled with all the events of the last year settled between them until Audrey suddenly said, “I think sometimes my dad wishes he was the one who died.”
Grace flinched. “That’s awful,” she said.
“I know,” Audrey said quietly. And then, because she thought she might’ve said too much, she added, “I know you’re moving tomorrow. But . . . do you think we could text sometimes? I’ve missed you.”
Grace nodded. “I’ve missed you too,” she said quietly.
It was by far the best part of the night. The only thing that would have made it better was if Harlow was there with them. As their cart continued to spin, Audrey looked at the old water tower standing off in the distance and read the sign:
CLARKVILLE
THE PLACE WHERE THE
PEOPLE YOU LOVE LIVE
Audrey realized the carousel had granted her first wish—her mother was coming home. Maybe not in the way Audrey imagined she would, but still, she was coming back. And Audrey thought maybe instead of riding off into that shiny new life she sometimes dreamed of (or tried to create online) she needed to be right here with Grace in her real, messy, imperfect life; facing her fear as they spun beneath a star-strewn sky. She felt grateful.
But then she made a huge mistake.
She looked down.
37
Harlow
MIDNIGHT HAD COME AND GONE and Harlow was nowhere near the Ferris wheel. That settled it, once and for all: she wasn’t going.
As midnight ticked forward, Harlow had thought about leaving the tent and making her way to the Ferris wheel. But she was truly beginning to doubt anyone would actually be waiting for her. And anyway, she and Julia were making great progress on the presentation. They had enough interviews—courtesy of the people stopping by the city council tent—and nearly enough photos.
“How’s it coming over here?” Mrs. Carlson said as she approached the makeshift workspace Harlow and Julia had set up at the back of the tent.
“Good. How did things go with the investors?” Harlow asked, and Mrs. Carlson rubbed her shoulder wearily.
“Good, I think, but it’s hard to tell. Your dad took them back to their hotel a while ago. They’re meeting at eight sharp tomorrow morning—do you think you guys can have it finished by then?”
Harlow nodded. “I’ll be up late tonight, but I can get it done,” she said, and Mrs. Carlson smiled.
“That’s my girl.”
After Mrs. Carlson left, Julia held up her phone and said, “What about this one?” Surprisingly, Julia was turning out to be a great source of good photos. Or maybe not so surprisingly, given how often she posted online.
Harlow glanced away from her mother’s laptop and looked over at the picture. It was of a row of Clarkville’s fire tankers, every single one of them, lining the street in front of the church the Changs attended.
“I snapped it last year on the way to the funeral,” Julia said quietly. “I don’t know . . . I guess I just thought it was important.”
“It is,” Harlow said, swallowing. “It’s a good picture. Can you text it to me?”
Just then a gust of wind blew, carrying an earsplitting scream. Harlow abruptly looked up from Julia’s phone. There was something familiar about the sound and Harlow rushed out of the tent, Julia following close behind. They were joined by Mrs. Carlson, who said, “What on earth is that noise?”
“It sounds like it’s coming from the Ferris wheel,” said a woman standing nearby, and all of a sudden Julia was grabbing Harlow’s arm.
“I did something really bad,” she said.
“What?” Harlow looked over and saw that Julia had gone pale.
“The Ferris wheel. I told Erin to get a box—” she began, but couldn’t seem to go on.
“What box? Did you send the pumpkin gram?” Harlow asked, because the pieces were starting to come together.
Except they didn’t quite fit. “What are you talking about?” Julia said, blinking. “What pumpkin gram?”
Harlow opened her mouth to explain, just as another scream split the air. There was something familiar about it, a scream she’d heard before.
Last year, on the Ferris wheel.
Harlow took off, running away from the tent. Julia was also running, struggling to catch up to Harlow’s long strides. “It was just supposed to be a stupid prank,” she called.
Harlow ran faster, practically pushing people out of her way. The Ferris wheel came into view. Someone seated in one of the carts was screaming.
Audrey.
Harlow could make out one cart halfway up the wheel that was tipped at an odd angle. The cart was shaking. It was hard to see so far up, but it looked like Audrey was thrashing about, while whoever was sitting next to her—was that Grace?—was sitting very still.
Everything else at the carnival was coming to a halt. Mr. McKinley was furiously punching buttons at the control box. A crowd of onlookers had formed around the ride. More than a few of them had their phones out and were shooting videos. Harlow heard the sound of a siren in the distance and was glad that at least one of them had the sense to call 911 before they started filming.
She came to a stop next to Ethan, who was staring up at the Ferris wheel. “Is that Audrey up there?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he answered shakily. “She’s terrified of heights. Last year at the carnival she tried to ride it and—”
“I remember,” Harlow said. “I was the one riding with her, remember?”
Ethan glanced over at her. “I remember,” he said softly.
“What happened?” Harlow said, turning her attention back to the Ferris wheel. “Why isn’t it moving?”
“I don’t know,” Ethan answered. “I just got here too.”
“They tried to stop
the ride when the girl started screaming,” said a man who’d overheard them. “And then it just sort of . . . jammed, and their cart got stuck that way.”
“They’re stuck?” Harlow repeated, and the man nodded.
“Make way!” Two firemen carrying a ladder shoved through the crowd to the front of the Ferris wheel and began setting up the ladder. They were quickly joined by Mr. Martinez, who shook hands with them. Behind him was a white-faced Mrs. Chang. “Please get my daughter down,” she said.
“We’ll be up there in no time,” one of the firemen answered. “And then we’ll bring her back down, safe and sound.”
“That won’t work,” Harlow whispered to Ethan and Julia. “Grace will climb down . . . But Audrey will never agree to leave the cart—she’s too terrified.”
Ethan nodded grimly. “I think you’re right.”
As they watched, the cart tipped further as Audrey let out another scream and continued thrashing. A gasp went up from the crowd below and Julia said, “Somebody has to try to calm her down.”
But the only someone up there was Grace—who was quietly grasping the rail of the cart. Every time Audrey flailed, the cart tipped farther, pushing Grace closer to the door. Was it locked? Harlow wondered. What would happen if Grace was pushed flat against it? Would it hold her weight—or would it fly open?
Harlow stared at the ladder. It was almost fully extended now; soon one of the firemen would start climbing.
A plan was forming in her mind. It was slightly dangerous—but after all, this was only a ladder, not a tall tree. And she did climb like a spider monkey, didn’t she? She began taking off her boots; she always climbed best in bare feet.
“Harlow, no,” Ethan said. “It’s crazy.” But he was peeling off his sweatshirt and rolling up his shirtsleeves. “I’m not letting you go up there without me.”
Harlow nodded and said, “We need a distraction.”
“I can distract everyone,” Julia spoke up. She caught Harlow’s eye. “I owe you—please?”
Harlow nodded, and Julia said, “On the count of three.”
The three of them moved in close to the ladder, mindful of the firemen, who were conferring in hushed tones. While Julia counted off, Ethan turned to Harlow and grinned. “I dare you,” he whispered.
“No, I dare you,” she answered.
“Three,” Julia said.
Harlow and Ethan leaped one after the other onto the ladder and began climbing.
“Hey, you kids!” called one of the firemen. “What do you think you’re doing? Get down from there!”
Down below, Harlow heard Julia say, “I don’t feel so well.” Then there was a sharp gasp, followed by, “She’s fainting!” and “Grab her head!” and “Everyone stand back and give her air!”
Harlow smirked and kept climbing; Julia could be an excellent actress when she wanted to be.
“Don’t try this at home, kids,” Ethan said as they climbed.
“Ethan, Harlow!” came Mrs. Chang’s panicked voice. “Come down from there!”
Harlow glanced down. Grace’s mother was standing with Diego Martinez’s dad, looking like she was about to faint. Just underneath Audrey and Grace’s cart, Mr. McKinley was organizing a group of men—one of whom was her own father—who all locked arms. With a sickening feeling, Harlow realized they were trying to create a cushion of sorts, just in case she or Ethan fell.
Just keep climbing, she told herself.
“Audrey—hang on, we’re coming!” Ethan yelled, but Audrey continued to scream.
Once she was close to the cart, Harlow balanced herself on the ladder and reached up and grabbed one of the Ferris wheel’s neon spokes. It was warm in her hands.
“What are you doing?” Ethan shouted as she climbed further up.
“I’m going in!” Carefully, like a gymnast, Harlow swung herself out and dropped lightly into the cart—jostling it slightly—right in front of Audrey and Grace. “Ta-da!” she said raising her hands high. “It’s a bird, it’s a plane, it’s—Super Harlow!”
Audrey was so shocked she stopped flailing and went still.
“Everyone all right in there?” Ethan called from below. “Audrey, are you okay?”
“She’s fine,” Harlow said. Both Grace and Audrey were quiet and breathing heavily, seemingly too shocked to speak, but they both looked okay. “Aren’t you coming in?” she added. Now that Audrey had stopped thrashing around, the cart was easing back into its resting position.
“On second thought, no.” Ethan looked up at her. “I’ll go back down and tell everyone things are fine up here. . . . By the way,” he called as he began descending the ladder. “I like your face better when you’re not wearing a mask!”
After his voice faded away, Grace managed to crack a smile. “Super Harlow?” she said.
Harlow shrugged. “I wanted to make a grand entrance. . . . Wow,” she added as she looked down at the crowd below. “There are a ton of people pointing their phones at us. What do you want to bet someone down there was hoping one of us would fall because it would make a good picture? Audrey—I’ll bet you’ll get a ton more followers tonight.” She looked over at Audrey and blushed. “Sorry—I sort of check your online stuff all the time.”
“It’s okay,” Audrey said. She groaned and clutched her stomach. “I don’t feel so good.”
“Close your eyes and take deep breaths,” Harlow advised. Her phone pinged with a text from Julia:
Since Audrey is okay now they’re going to see if they can get the ride fixed. You guys might be up there for a while.
Thanks, Harlow texted back.
On the seat next to her was a brown shoebox, which she picked up. Was this the box Julia had talked about? She reached for the lid. Grace yelled, “Don’t open it!” and ripped the box from Harlow’s hands.
“It’s a prank,” Grace said. “From Julia and Erin. That’s why I wrote the pumpkin gram.”
“Wait—you wrote it?” Harlow said. “I’m confused.”
“Yeah . . . I think we have a lot to talk about,” Grace said.
“Can we do it later?” Audrey asked, breathing deeply. “When we’re not stuck up here?”
Harlow nodded and said, “Do you want to hold my hand?”
“Yeah,” Audrey said shakily. “I really do.”
They grasped hands and Harlow stared at the shoebox. “I’m pretty sure I saw Erin carrying this on the way to the carnival. What do you think is inside?”
“Knowing Julia and Erin, something nasty,” Grace said. She turned to Harlow. “They’ve gotten really mean this last year.”
Harlow paused, not sure how to respond. She wanted to say things weren’t so simple. That more and more she was beginning to believe everyone wore a mask of sorts. An invisible one, true, but just as real as the one she’d worn earlier that evening. And that she’d gotten a glimpse behind Julia’s mask tonight—behind the pranks and the meanness and the shiny Internet images—to the person underneath, a girl who dreamed of arriving to the theater in a pink party dress and wished she could live in a big house like Harlow’s. A girl who was willing to spend the last hours of the carnival helping Harlow with her project.
But since she didn’t really know how to say all that, Harlow settled for saying, “What could possibly be so bad in there? Dare me to open it?”
Before anyone could say anything, with her free hand she reached out, lifted the lid, and peered inside—then froze.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Grace said. “What is it? What’s inside?”
Harlow just shook her head, unable to speak. It was the one thing she was afraid of; the only dare she’d ever turned down.
“Spi-spi-spiders,” she sputtered. She didn’t know how Julia and Erin had managed it, but inside were spiders, hundreds of them. Her heart was beating wildly and her fingers were curled like claws around the lid. She couldn’t move. She could barely breathe. As she watched, a spider crawled out of the box and began inching toward her thumb. Help
! she tried to say, but her muscles had seized up and she couldn’t open her mouth.
Grace ripped the box out of Harlow’s reach and tossed it over the side of the cart. The three of them watched as it spun, end over end as it fell, landing with an audible thwack—right on top of Julia’s upturned face. Julia began to dance around and brush furiously at her hair.
“Oops,” Grace deadpanned. “Looks like Julia just got a spider shower.”
At that, Audrey finally snapped out of her daze and began laughing. Harlow and Grace joined in, and Harlow thought being stranded in the sky with the two best friends she’d ever had wasn’t a bad way to end the strangest night of her life.
38
Grace
FORTY MINUTES LATER, AMID MUCH cheering, the Ferris wheel finally started moving again. A crowd surrounded Grace, Audrey, and Harlow as soon as they stepped off the ride. Mrs. Chang pulled Grace into a suffocating bear hug and began to cry.
Grace hated crowds. And hugs.
But what she hated the absolute most was fighting with her mother, so she made herself hug her back and say, “I’m okay, Mom. I promise.”
“Really?” Mrs. Chang pulled away and stared hard at her daughter, as if to make sure.
Grace glanced away from her mother’s scrutiny. She saw Mr. McKinley and Ethan talking to Audrey, and Harlow was enveloped in a hug from both her parents. Diego and Mr. Martinez were standing some feet away, chatting with the firemen, who were just about to leave. Mrs. King was combing spiders out of Julia’s hair, while Mr. King was saying, “You better hope none of them laid any eggs in there.” Julia caught Grace’s gaze and shrugged sheepishly; Grace couldn’t help but grin back a little.
Mrs. Chang, who finally seemed convinced Grace was all right, sighed and said, “So . . . you decided to go to the carnival even though you’re grounded?” She phrased it as a question, and Grace knew there were several wrong answers she could give.
The Carnival of Wishes & Dreams Page 14