But I’d started thinking about college, too, even though it was a way off. Specifically, I was interested in being an elementary teacher, specializing in dyslexia. I’d figured out the root of Kes’s reading problems years ago. Without trying to raise his suspicions, I’d quietly started testing the extent of his disability. From what I could figure out, he was at the extreme end of the spectrum, to the point where I’d say he was severely dyslexic.
He’d confuse even simple words like ‘cat’ and ‘cot’, refused point blank to read aloud, and would have to read a short paragraph several times to get the gist of it. When I made him read, or rather when he could be persuaded to sit down and try to read, he’d use his finger to follow along the lines, and I could see that he’d miss some words entirely and skip around the page. He hated it, and it made him bad tempered and moody.
He wasn’t great with numbers either, especially long ones, but there was nothing wrong with his mental math, and he was faster at doing sums in his head than I was. He wasn’t too bad at reading maps either; he said maps were like pictures, so he had no problem interpreting them, although long place names baffled him, but his sense of direction was phenomenal, and because he’d traveled so much, his US geography was way better than mine, a fact he enjoyed rather too much. I didn’t mind, because I knew how hard book-learning was for him.
I wished I knew more about Kes’s problems so I could help him better, but he hated admitting to any weakness. My dream was to teach and help kids like Kes. But how did that dream fit in with a future where Kes still traveled with the carnival? I couldn’t answer that question.
I saw the carnival posters go up two weeks after the Fourth, and I knew I would see him again soon. I studied myself in the bathroom’s full length mirror, hoping that this year he’d look at me the way he looked at those other girls.
My boobs had finally made a late arrival and I was wearing real, grown-up bras. Jennifer helped me experiment with makeup, although I felt more confident sticking to the basics: some sparkly eye-shadow and mascara, with a strawberry-flavored lip-gloss that I chose for Kes, because he mentioned once that he loved strawberries but hardly ever had them. I hoped that he’d want to kiss me—a lot.
I was also hoping that this year we’d progress from kisses on the cheek. I didn’t want him to look at me like his sister—and my feelings were very far from thinking of him as a brother.
I’d thought of Kes as my boyfriend since we were ten years old. Now that I’d been 16 for a whole day, I was ready to take things further. Not all the way, not yet, but I definitely wanted more. And if boys were as dumb as Jennifer said, I was going to have to show Kes how I felt, tell him with words, not wait for him to work it out. The thought was nerve wracking.
My sixteenth birthday had felt like a huge anticlimax. I’d gotten a ton of books, which was great, and Jennifer had bought me some cute clothes, but I really hoped my parents would spring for a cell phone. They hadn’t—again—and my baby-sitting money wasn’t enough to pay for one either.
So my hopes for a memorable summer were pinned on the arrival of the carnival—and Kes.
I waited all day. The heat of late July cracked the sky and sucked the air from the land. Near the lakes, the buzz of mosquitoes was loud and most people had screens across their windows to keep them out.
I’d already gone to bed when I heard the carnival’s sixteen-wheelers rumbling down the road. I sat up and crawled to the window, watching the headlights flash by, wondering which RV was Kes’s, and wondering if he was thinking of me.
I left my window open all night, just in case, but he never came.
When I woke up the next morning, tired and bad tempered from hours of painful anticipation, my feelings were complicated and tightly knotted. But when I looked out and saw the Ferris wheel’s skeleton stark against the white heat of the summer sky, I smiled.
The carnies must have worked through the night to get up the majority of the tents and sideshows.
Some of the townspeople thought that carnies were shirkers, but nothing could have been further from the truth. It was a hard life, breeding hard people, although I could see that Kes loved it. I couldn’t imagine how he’d fit into a normal world. The thought made me shiver, because I couldn’t imagine how I’d fit into his world, either.
I forced myself into a more positive frame of mind, determined not to show how anxious I was feeling. I’d already laid out the clothes I was going to wear: some bootylicious jean shorts and a pale blue tank top that revealed my bellybutton when I stretched my arms. I planned to stretch them a lot around Kes.
I also had my favorite push-up bra trimmed in pale pink lace, and with matching panties. I wasn’t sure how lucky Kes was going to get, but I couldn’t wait to find out.
I swiped the mascara wand through my lashes and brushed on some gold eye shadow that really suited my olive complexion.
Jennifer grinned at me when I came down to breakfast and gave me a thumbs up. She knew how much this meant to me, and despite our constant bickering, we’d gotten pretty close.
I slipped out before Mom could catch me, sending up a prayer of thanks that for the past few years, the carnival had arrived on a Thursday night, meaning that my father was already at work. There was no way the outfit would have passed his morality test.
I got my first wolf-whistle when I sauntered to the entrance arch. A carnie who must have been in his twenties and was covered in tattoos up to his neck, grinned at me.
“We’re not open yet, princess. But you can come back and see me later.”
I gave him a haughty stare. “Actually, I’m looking for Kes.”
He gave a throaty laugh. “Aren’t they all? Take a number and get in line.”
His words made my stomach churn, but I refused to let him see how it affected me.
“Whatever,” I said, tossing my long hair over my shoulder. “But he’s expecting me and so is Grandpa Donohue, so unless you want to get in trouble, you’d better let me through.”
His eyebrows shot up, and then he bowed from the waist and waved me inside.
“After you, princess.”
I marched past him, feeling my cheeks heating up when he whistled again, then laughed wildly.
Over the years, I’d learned that there was a fierce hierarchy for positioning the carnies’ motorhomes. Dono had the top spot, which was at the furthest end from the noise and smells of the rides, although it may also have been because he was the only person traveling with animals, but I didn’t think that was the main reason.
I saw Ollo first, who whistled and grinned, but was wrestling with the layout for the bumper cars, so I waved and walked on.
I thought I saw Zachary at one point, but I couldn’t be sure.
When I found Kes, he wasn’t alone. A girl with wild red hair that streamed in riotous spirals down her back was leaning all over him, her breasts almost mashed against his chest. I tried to read Kes’s expression: he seemed neither happy nor annoyed, just being super cool Kes, gazing into the distance.
I swallowed, a warm feeling crawling up my belly as I stared at him. He’d grown taller. Not as tall as Dono yet, but nearly as tall as my father. His shoulders were wider and I could see his biceps pushing through his ragged t-shirt, but he was still on the thin side, wiry, I guess. He looked stunning, like he should be in a boy band—you know, the bad one that makes all the parents fear for their daughters’ virginity.
I watched him out of the corner of my eye as I turned to study the competition. I had to admit it wasn’t looking good. The girl was taller than me and wore a low cut tank top that showcased a lot of cleavage. Her boobs were no better than mine, I decided—there was just more of them on show. So whereas I looked safe, nice you might say, she looked dangerous. Her arms were covered in colorful tattoos, her ears pierced five or six times each, and she had silver rings through her lip and eyebrow. Her face was hard, but beautiful, even caked in makeup.
I guessed she was maybe two or three years older
than me, it was hard to tell.
As if she felt my gaze on her, she swung toward me, her eyes blazing.
“No rubes back here!” she yelled. “Get the fuck out!”
I was shocked that a complete stranger would speak to me like that. I froze, my eyes darting to Kes. He turned to look at me, his frown of annoyance changing to a warm smile.
“Chill, Sorcha,” he muttered. “The shrimp’s a friend.”
I wanted to laugh. I wanted to cry. He was pleased to see me, but so dismissive. I stood there with my mouth hanging open. And then I was in Kes’s arms, breathing in the scent of sweat and soap and something like fresh hay that was so familiar.
“Hey, kid! How you doing?” he said, as he led me away.
His voice had deepened. No longer childlike, it was a light, pleasant tenor.
“Don’t call me kid!” I snapped, punching his shoulder.
He laughed and rubbed the spot where I’d hit him. His dimple popped out and I wished I’d hit him harder—then kissed him better.
“Okay, not a kid,” he smiled, but then I watched his eyes darken as they drifted down my body, pausing at my chest, then doing a slow sweep along my legs and hips. “No, not a kid,” he said again, and this time his voice was gruffer.
“Kes!” the girl yelled after him. “We have to practice the new routine.”
Oh God, that harlot was part of his act? And she had a cool name. Yep, it was official—I hated her. It was also clear that it was mutual.
Kes didn’t even bother to answer, and that gave me bittersweet satisfaction.
Without even discussing it, we both headed to the Ghost Train and I squatted down on the short, prickly grass, leaning back on my elbows, giving him the best view of my legs and chest. And yes, he looked. Then he smiled to himself and gracefully sank to the ground, sitting Indian style.
We grinned at each other, a pleasure that was almost nothing to do with raging teenage hormones.
“How’ve you been, Aimee? You look good.”
His voice was a little wistful. Ah, there he was; my Kes.”
“Okay,” I said. “School has been kind of sucky, and I’ve missed you.”
“What’s up with school? I thought you liked that shit?”
“I did, I do. I mean…”
“But?”
“You remember that girl Camilla?”
Kes rolled his eyes and laughed lightly. “Yeah, definitely memorable.”
“Well, she’s kind of been a bitch ever since.”
Kes frowned. “But that shit was years ago.”
This time it was my turn to roll my eyes.
“You don’t know girls very well if you think that she’d ever forget something like that—or forgive it.”
He scowled.
“She’s still giving you a hard time?”
I didn’t want to sound too pathetic, so I played it down.
“Yeah, but nothing I can’t handle.”
His face was dark with anger, but I didn’t want to discuss my problems. I had two weeks to be happy—I was darn well going to make the most of them.
“What have you been up to?” I said brightly. “Sounds like you’ve got a new act?”
Kes grinned, his eyes sliding to mine. “Jealous?”
I huffed a little, but then admitted the truth. “Yes, I’m jealous.”
His gaze softened. “You don’t need to be,” he said softly. “Sorcha’s just a friend.”
“That’s what you call me,” I said, stupid tears making my eyes prickle.
Kes shook his head slowly. “No, you’re my girl.”
I blinked rapidly. My heart was going a mile a minute, I was so excited and nervous. I looked up at him, wanting to seem calm, trying to control the huge smile that was threatening to break out.
“Really?”
“You know me better than anyone, Aimee.”
But to be honest, that wasn’t saying much. He was so closed-off when it came to how he felt about things. He’d never spoken about his parents, and I had no idea what his hopes and dreams were for the future—or whether I fit into those plans. But I’d never thought he was a liar either, so maybe I had to trust him.
That sounded dangerous: trust the boy I saw for just two weeks a year with my fragile heart? I knew it was a mistake. Unfortunately it was one I’d already made years ago.
He reached out and brushed his thumb along my bottom lip.
“You’re my girl, Aimee. No one else.”
Then he leaned forward and pressed his lips against mine. It wasn’t hesitant and it wasn’t demanding; it was what I’d been waiting for, and it was perfect.
Without any need to think, my arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him closer. He unwound his long legs until he was hovering over me, his body resting full length against mine.
A sound between a moan and a growl rumbled at the back of his throat, and I opened my mouth, giving and taking my first ever full-blooded, heart-pounding, open-mouthed kiss, tongues thrusting and tangling wildly.
He tasted sweet like soda and something else I couldn’t put a name to.
Our kiss was sloppy and we clashed teeth which made me jerk back, but Kes just took it as an opportunity to kiss and lick my neck. It was the most amazing sensation as pinpricks of heat broke out across my body.
I moaned softly and I felt the pulse jump in his neck, his heart thudding against his ribs. My body arched up to meet him, and I could feel a bulge in his jeans pushing against my thigh. For a fraction of a second, I was off balance and unsure, but then I reached down and rubbed my hand along it.
Kes growled and bit my throat, his teeth sinking into the tender flesh at the base of my neck. When his hands slid up from my waist and under my t-shirt, I pulled away.
This was going much faster than I was ready for. I loved it; God, it felt amazing! But I was worried that Kes would want to take it even further, and I definitely wasn’t ready for that—not out here, in the open.
He lifted his head, staring down into my eyes.
“I guess we should stop,” he said, regret fighting with the lust that made his eyes glitter.
“I guess we should,” I said, my voice weak.
He rolled off me and lay back on the grass, one hand over his eyes, the other resting on his flat stomach.
The silence stretched out until it became uncomfortable.
“That was…” I began, not sure how to finish the sentence.
Kes propped himself up on one elbow to look at me.
“Hot,” he said, grinning.
I laughed with relief. “Oh, definitely! I’m burning up here!”
He leaned closer. “Burning … or wet?”
I slapped his arm and laughed again. “Both,” I admitted shyly.
“Oh shit,” Kes sighed, then adjusted himself not very discreetly.
I couldn’t help watching, I really couldn’t. It was my first experience of the male member. I felt proud that I’d done that to him. It was thrilling to find that I could provoke such a raw, masculine response. We weren’t children anymore, but our bodies were eager to make decisions that our brains knew were dangerous. Maybe that was just me. It was certainly hard to keep my rational brain awake when I felt drugged by his kisses and desire.
I flopped back, letting my breathing slow and the wild passion return to a low simmer.
I swallowed several times, then turned my head to look at him.
“Kes, what do you think will happen to us? I miss you so much when you’re away.”
He sighed and his eyes closed.
“Do you ever think about the future?” I went on.
“Yeah, sometimes.”
“Well, what do you want to do?”
“What do you mean? I want to do this.” He was irritated.
“Is that all?”
He bristled immediately and I knew I’d said the wrong thing.
“What’s wrong with it?” he snapped.
“I didn’t say there was anything wrong with i
t!” My voice was defensive.
He looked like he was debating whether or not to be annoyed, but then his eyes closed again.
“No, you never have,” he conceded. “That’s why you’re different from all the other townie girls.”
I was silent for a moment.
“Do you remember the day we met?”
He laughed lightly. “Of course! I was supposed to be mucking out the horsebox, but I didn’t want to do it, so I was hiding from Dono. I was watching all the rubes and then I saw you.”
I smiled at the memory. “Why did you speak to me?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. You just looked so excited. You were tugging at your mom’s hand and she wouldn’t let you go. You looked like you wanted to go running down the midway, but she was hanging on tight.”
“I thought I was going to see magic,” I admitted. “You know, real magic.”
Kes snorted with amusement.
“It’s not funny!” I laughed. “Anyway, I did find magic.”
Kes turned his head toward me, frowning.
“What do you mean?”
“It was so exciting, seeing the carnival appear in Mr. Peterson’s field overnight. It had just been a boring old patch of grass, and then there was a whole city of canvas and colorful lights. It seemed like someone had waved a magic wand or something.”
Kes groaned. “Seriously? Have you any idea how hard it is to get the show ready? We’ve usually driven all day to get here, then as soon as we arrive we have to set up. It takes the whole fucking night: your hands are raw from pulling on tent ropes, and your stomach’s growling like a bitch because you haven’t got time to stop and eat; and the next day you’ve got to fucking smile while you stick a broom in your ass and sweep the floor!”
I was laughing so hard at his description that it made me snort.
“Well, you took me to meet Mr. Albert—you were a real life carnie with a monkey. That seemed like magic.”
He grinned. “Yeah, that’s the point. Gotta keep the illusion.”
I chewed on my next question for a minute before asking it.
“I don’t want us to be an illusion,” I said. “I think about you all the time—do you ever think about me?”
The Traveling Man Page 7