For Your Safety

by Jenny Bunting

  “I have too many control issues for this,” Henry says. He lets out a scream, his lips stretched across his teeth, and I match his scream, our eyes locked.

  His eyes are the color of a fresh-water lake, like the one near my hometown. They’re really pretty, actually.

  The people directly in front of us flinch. The confusion floats off of them. It’s cathartic to let a scream out, but I’m still shaking. The train climbs higher and higher, and my heart drops to my butt.

  The train slows and then completely…stops.

  Is this normal? Do the roller coaster design people do this to torment people like me?

  “What the fuck,” I yell with an edge of whine.

  “Yeah, what the fuuuuuuucccccckkkkkk,” Henry yells.

  Other passengers match our freak out and raise us blind rage.

  Henry drops my hand to clench his handlebars.

  Against my better judgment, I look behind me and pray that we don’t go backward. We are stupid high up. Gasping for air, I close my eyes. Maybe the roller coaster will tip over. Or will start back up again and go too slow over the first hill and then we won’t have enough momentum to go through the first loop and then I’ll fall out because the harnesses malfunction like in Final Destination 3 as a giant metaphor of what going back to my hometown feels like to me.

  I’m going to die today. Or pass out from the adrenaline crash of a full-blown panic attack.

  Without warning, I burst into tears.

  Full-on ugly crying, mascara-streaking sobbing that turns into hyperventilating.

  I usually reserve crying for the third date.

  Henry tenses next to me. “Oh no.”

  Crying turns into sobbing. There are no stakes to this date, so I let the snot flow and the full ugly-cry manifest enough to make even the most secure man feel uncomfortable.

  When I cry, my nose goes up my face, and my mouth stretches into the shape of a jellybean. My nose drains portions of my brain until I’m a shiny and wet mess.

  “I hate this,” I say with a wail.

  Another person begins crying, and then it’s a chain reaction. Soon, the whole roller coaster is feeling feelings about being stuck at the first ascent.

  The seat’s speaker near my ear crackles on.

  “Hey, folks! Sorry we stopped! Just hang tight, and we’ll get you going in no time!”

  “Great, now they’re going to start it with no warning,” I say, sniffing snot back into my head. “I was barely holding it together back there.”

  “This is my worst nightmare,” Henry says. His hands cling to the handlebars. “I really need to stop listening to Landon.”

  “I’m sorry you’re stuck here with me.” I look down and start sobbing again.

  “No, you’re the best part about this day,” Henry says.

  My tears dry immediately. Me?

  “You’ve barely talked to me, though.”

  “You make me nervous!” he says, rubbing his palms on his shorts. “When I say I don’t date, I mean it’s been over a year. The only girl I’ve talked to really is the AI I created on my computer, and oh my God, why did I admit that? I swear it’s not creepy, I just…”

  “It’s fine,” I say, my voice cracking from the cry fest earlier. “I’ve seen Her.”

  “Mine is not like that, I swear. I tried to make a joke. Oh God, oh God, this is middle school all over again.” Henry rubs a palm against his shorts.

  “You created a dating app, though,” I point out. Landon and Henry recently sold the dating app, Kindred, but still concoct projects together. I used their app a few times, with mixed results.

  “Yeah, but it was Landon’s idea. I just coded it,” Henry says. “I tried to use it to get an idea of the interface, but got so overwhelmed, I relied on my beta testers instead.”

  Overwhelmed by dating and created a robot girl to talk to. Wow.

  “Awww, why can’t I be cool?” Henry asks, his voice cracking. “Oh, because I’m stuck on this fucking roller coaster.”

  “Seriously,” I say, “I do think I have you beat as the worst half of this date. I’m covered in snot…” I trail off. “I might cry again.”

  “I’m so nauseous right now.” He drums on the handlebars. He reaches awkwardly into his pocket and hands over a tissue. “Here.”

  “Thanks,” I say. I dab at my nose awkwardly.

  “You’re welcome,” Henry says. He breathes in harshly through his nose and lets out a huge exhale. “I can’t throw up in front of you. You are literally the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. You have these pretty eyes, and your hair…”

  I blush and a tiny smile crosses my lips. My hair gets a lot of attention since I’ve been dyeing it different colors since I was twenty-one. Currently it’s “mermaid hair,” a combination of green, blue, purple, and pink. One Saturday night, I had nothing to do so I came up with this.

  “You think I’m pretty?” I ask. A warm feeling spreads through my chest.

  “Absolutely,” he says, shaking his hands.

  Men tell me some version of this often, but it feels different coming from Henry. It has no sordid intentions, it’s just…sweet.

  “When’s the last time you had a girlfriend?” I ask.

  Henry buzzes his lips and huffs out like a horse. “Right before I left for Singapore.”

  “Why did you break up?”

  Henry squints one eye. “The sex was so good, she had to quit. Too sore.”

  Cackling, my eyes fill up with tears from laughter. Flashes of Henry and me kissing flit across my mind, but I think nothing of it. It’s mere curiosity.

  Henry looks forward. “I was leaving for Singapore, and we broke up.”

  “You didn’t want her to come with you?”

  Henry shakes his head. “She had a life here with a job she really loved. I couldn’t ask her to give that all up when I didn’t feel the way you’re supposed to feel.”

  “And what’s that? The way you’re supposed to feel?”

  Henry’s gaze locks with mine. “Magic.”

  His word and look glide over my skin, causing goosebumps. I know what he means. There were plenty of times I’ve should’ve felt a certain way, but I didn’t. Funny, I’ve completely forgotten about being trapped in a contraption that could fall off or slide backward. My heart rate has slowed, and I’m no longer shaking.

  “Long distance is hard too,” Henry says. “I’ve done it before and it’s more trouble than it’s worth.”

  Huh.

  “Are you from around here?” I ask.

  “Healdsburg, born and raised,” he says.

  I light up. “We go there all the time as a home base for wine tasting.”

  “I can’t think of a better place,” he says.

  “I freaking love Healdsburg,” I say, tapping his hand with my finger. He looks down at where I touched him.

  Henry smiles, and his skin grows pink. “It’s the best.”

  “It reminds me of home,” I say.

  “Where are you from?”

  “Goldheart,” I say. “It’s near Grass Valley and Nevada City…”

  “I know where that is. I’ve been there a couple times,” Henry says. “Is your family still there?”

  I nod. “My dad and my mom. And my older sister Annie works for a winery there.”

  “Why did you leave?” Henry asks.

  There it is. His gaze making me nervous again.

  “I’ve always loved San Francisco. Been, like, obsessed. I knew I needed to live here before I die.”

  I left out how my San Francisco adventure was coming to a close, that there was no way I could stay. Even if the tech start-up had kept me, my salary was barely enough to share my portion of the rent with a roommate. San Francisco was only supposed to be temporary so I could get it out of my system.

  However, leaving San Francisco is a lot harder than I thought it would be.

  Being on top of this roller coaster has made me realize some things.

  “I don’
t know if Erin and Landon told you, but I’m leaving San Francisco,” I say.

  Henry looks down with a blank expression. Is he sad or indifferent?

  “Why?” he asks.

  “The city is so expensive.”

  Henry nods vigorously.

  “I had a contract for my current job, but it’s over,” I say.

  “You can’t find another job?” he asks.

  “No, I haven’t really looked. And all the men don’t like me. Well, the straight ones,” I say.

  “Come on,” Henry says. “No way.”

  “Way. I’ve tried everything. Apps, blind dates, walking up to men in Trader Joe’s…” I say.

  “Do you go for the same frozen orange chicken bag, hoping for a hand graze?”

  “Exactly,” I say. “That orange chicken they do is so good, though.”

  Henry’s eyes roll back in his head. “Right? Their egg rolls are pretty good too.”

  “I haven’t tried those.”

  “You have to,” Henry says.

  I have a flash of a Trader Joe’s frozen Chinese food date with Henry. I wonder what his apartment looks like. I wonder what he’s like in bed…

  Wait, what am I thinking? Henry is not an option. He certainly doesn’t look like my usual type. He’s not brooding or tall with my usual preference of dark hair and dark eyes.

  I’m leaving, for crying out loud.

  I accidentally look over the edge, and my heart rate speeds up again.

  “What’s wrong?” Henry asks.

  “I just looked over the edge. It’s so far down. Why is this ride still stuck?”

  On cue, the intercom near my ear comes alive again.

  “Okay, folks, the Thrill Mountain technicians are hard at work to get the ride up and going for you. It’ll be just a few more moments.”

  “Someone’s getting fired today,” Henry says.

  “So fired,” I repeat. I grip the handles on the harness tightly. Being up here with Henry isn’t so bad. It’s certainly not the worst date I’ve ever been on, even with Henry’s nausea, then the wave assault on the water ride, then the roller coaster crapping out. He’s definitely the nicest guy I’ve been out with in a while. It’s like straight single men know they have the upper hand in San Francisco.

  Still, I don’t feel the twisting of my stomach, any heat between my legs. No desire to grab his face and bruise his lips with mine. He’s simply become a friend I’ve gotten to know while trapped on this ridiculous roller coaster.

  “I’m glad I got stuck. With you,” I blurt out.

  “You are?” Henry asks.

  “It hasn’t been so bad.”

  “Oh, can I put that as a blurb on my dating profile? You know, when I’m not overwhelmed?” Henry asks with a raised eyebrow.

  “Absolutely. Raegan, former date, says…”

  “No, it will read: ‘Not bad’ – Raegan, former date.”

  “Perfect,” I say as my stomach drops. He’s already discounting a future date. I’m not sure why I’m sad.

  “Friends?” Henry asks, holding up his right hand. I can’t meet it with my right due to my harness, but I link his hand with my left hand in the best shake we can do. It’s friendly and reminds me of holding hands as kids.

  “Friends,” I say with a plastered-on smile.

  In that moment, I feel a swell in my chest. It hits me like the water balloon I took to the face at the Goldheart Community Picnic when I was twelve.

  Holy shit.

  I think I kind of like him.

  3

  I’ve had many crushes in my life. There’s the Finch brothers in Goldheart, all too good-looking for their own good. There was Jeremy Tanner in middle school who I never talked to and just crushed on from afar. I’ve had crushes on dates that went nowhere.

  None of them looked like Henry. None of them made me laugh like Henry.

  I rip my hand away from Henry’s, and we both settle our hands on our handlebars. Declaring we were friends cut off all our banter, and I can’t think of a good topic to start it up again.

  Do I tell him I’m interested?

  No, too forward.

  Is he even interested? Sneaking glances at Henry, I notice he looks ahead with a blank expression. I’m not sure how he feels now that we declared ourselves as friends, when he called me pretty earlier.

  I’m losing my mind, sitting here. Have I been way too shallow this whole time? Were a million Henrys under my nose, and I never noticed?

  Henry is not my usual type at all. He’s a coder, successful, goofy, caring, but also gets motion-sickness and refuses to stand up to teenagers. I never thought I’d date a man who had red hair, but here we are.

  My thought spiral is interrupted by an aggravated scream.

  “What was that?” Henry asks. We both lift our butts off the seats to try to see.

  “This is all your fucking fault, Josh. I told you we should’ve gone on the Ferris Wheel instead.”

  Ooooooh, drama.

  “I asked you if this was okay! You could’ve said no!”

  “Josh, we’ve been dating for five years. You should know by now that I hate roller coasters. Detest them.”

  Henry leans in. “I’ve been dating you for five seconds, and I know you don’t like them.” My chest swells. He’s dating me.

  Stop it, Raegan. He just said you were friends. Plus, you’re leaving. He doesn’t do long-distance.

  “This is the first time I’m hearing about this, Diana. You have literally never told me you hate roller coasters.”

  “Well, I also don’t really orgasm. How do you like that, Josh? All of our new friends on the Double Helix here know now. Josh does not give me ORGASMS!”

  The whole train gasps.

  Henry and I turn towards each other. “I’m one hundred percent invested in this,” I say.

  “Same,” Henry says. “I feel like a big bombshell is coming.”

  “A bigger one than him not giving her orgasms?”

  “What about all that moaning last night? You screamed my name so loud the cops got called. They handcuffed me, Diana.”

  “Yeah, well, you got out, didn’t you?” Diana asks. “You weren’t even booked.”

  “Since I asked to speak to my attorney.”

  Henry turns to me. “Smart. That’s how people get in trouble in the true crime shows. I’m always like, ‘ask for your attorney, idiot.’”

  “Yes!” I say. “You like true crime shows?”

  “Unfortunately, yes. I find them soothing.”

  “Me too.” Another point for Henry.

  Diana and Josh are back to fighting so we listen in.

  “I knew I should’ve hooked up with Wyatt when I had a chance. Now we’re stranded on this fucking roller coaster because you wanted to feel the wind on your face.”

  “Who’s Wyatt?” I ask Henry.

  “I think we’ll find out soon,” Henry whispers.

  “Wyatt?” Josh asks. “My best friend, Wyatt? When did you almost hook up?”

  “It’s his best friend,” Henry scream-whispers.

  “I got it,” I say with a wink. Henry’s lips straighten, and our eyes lock. He looks down and then back up, and my chest flutters.

  Our first moment.

  Maybe we can be more than friends. I could drive back to San Francisco and…

  No, Raegan. Just because a guy is nice to you doesn’t mean he’s willing to drive a hundred miles every weekend one way to see you.

  I shift in my seat.

  “Candice’s bonfire. Wyatt and I had the best time. He danced with me, which you never do.”

  “I love dancing,” Henry tells me. “Even though I’m terrible at it. Lots of flailing arms, lots of tongue past my lips, but you can’t drag me off the dance floor. Once I get started. Electric slide, cha-cha slide, give me all the slides.”

  “You’re a much better man than Josh,” I say.

  “Eons, lightyears ahead of Josh.”

  I’ve been Diana at we
ddings, bringing a guy like Josh who sits in the corner on his phone who refuse to dance with me. It makes no sense to me why men turn down dancing. Seventy-five percent of my dancing technique is pressing my ass against a man’s frontside and shimmying. You can usually see right down my dress and most of my favorite ones require me to go braless.

  Our new friend Josh has had enough.

  “I can’t believe you, Diana,” Josh says.

  “Well, I’ve been unhappy with you for a long time. When was the last time you went down on me, Josh? When?”

  “Oh, Josh,” Henry says. “You’ve got to keep the tongue game strong, my friend.”

  An ache manifests between my legs at Henry’s comment. I’ve had sex semi-recently, but it included fumbling of clothes with no warm-up time before a dick was inside of me. Henry would take his time, be thorough—I can just tell.

  I’m officially curious.

  “Diana, I’ve told you. I hate the way it tastes.”

  “And cum tastes like a milkshake? Kelis lied to us!”

  Preach, Diana, preach.

  I also gasp, because I saw at least three children walk onto the roller coaster. While this is hilarious, I don’t need it on my conscience that I didn’t say something to a couple having a wildly inappropriate personal conversation. I open my mouth to say something, but Henry beats me to it.

  “Okay, that’s enough, this is getting annoying,” Henry says just to me. He raises his voice. “Hey, how about you keep that to yourself, okay? There’s kids on the ride.”

  “Who said that? Mind your own fucking business.”

  “It’s hard for me to mind my business when you and your girlfriend are airing your dirty laundry, my friend.”

  “Fuck you, dude.”

  “Fuck you…harder. Unlike your girlfriend,” Henry says. He lowers his voice, and it’s only meant for me. “Oh, that didn’t come out right. And I’m no better than Josh.”

  “Maybe I should be with a man like that, Josh,” Diana says.

  No, maybe I should be with a man like that, Diana.

  Josh makes a sound, and Diana lowers her voice, still arguing, but quiet enough that we cannot hear.

  My mouth agape, I turn to him.

  “What?” he asks.

  “You stood up to a guy who sounds like he could kick your ass.”