Carnival

by K. B. Nelson

  “Except that you’re not falling for a hundred feet to the ground. Cages, remember?”

  “It’s practically the same thing.”

  Nope. “I wish I had some liquor.”

  “I could just push you off,” he suggests.

  I turn to him. “You wouldn’t.”

  Blue arches his eyebrow. “No?”

  I look back down. I know many people who have jumped into water from much higher cliffs and bridges, and they’re still alive. Still, I can’t shake the looming danger of death. I’m not twenty-seven and I’m not ready to die.

  Then I’m in the air. Barreling toward the water and screaming like a banshee. I can feel Blue’s arms around me. He’s hollering in ecstasy and I’m going to kick his—

  We slam into the water, sinking a distance equal to the distance we fell—if my memory of basic high school physics is correct. Blue lets go of me, and I kick to the surface. It’s darker down here, far from the clear waters of the surface.

  I rise above the surface and take in an extended breath. Blue comes up beside me laughing.

  “I’m going to kill you.”

  “At least I’ll die happy,” he says.

  His wet hair sticks to his face. I move closer and push his hair back—nice, neat and out of the way. I take a sideways glance and rub my palm through his hair, roughing it up. “You’re much hotter with messy hair.”

  “Then you’ll never see it combed.”

  “I want to jump without your helpful assistance.” I don’t know where the hell that came from but it’s too late to take it back.

  “If I hadn’t pushed you, you never would have jumped to begin with,” he says. “Trust me. The longer you stand there, the less likely you are to jump. Sometimes you just gotta make the move.”

  I can’t help but think he’s talking about something else entirely. He wades closer to me, his eyes dancing with mine. “You’ve done this before?” I ask.

  “Other places. Bridges mostly.” He’s now within an inch of me, and he gently grabs me at the waist, pulling me close.

  “My own personal daredevil.”

  “Something like that,” he says quietly. I can feel the seduction in the words. He’s going to kiss me—I know it. He gets closer still and I’m about to pucker my lips.

  I jump out of the water, bringing both my hands down on his shoulders and push him under. Little does he know we’re about to have another race. By the time he resurfaces, I already have a comfortable lead.

  I look back and he’s racing toward me. I don’t know when he found time to train for aquatic Olympics while working the carnival circuit, but he’s quickly catching up. My arms are worn out by the time I get cliff-side. With one last feat of strength, I pull myself up onto the rocks.

  I clench my fists and throw them into the air, celebrating my win. When I turn around, I notice Blue isn’t moving. Instead, he wades in the water, watching me intently. Sore loser.

  “I’ll just watch you,” he says.

  “You don’t think I’ll do it?”

  “Eighty-twenty. And the odds are not in your favor.”

  Really? I pull up my big girl panties and begin the long climb to the top. It doesn’t take as long as the first time to scale the cliff, but it’s just as difficult. I grab onto branches of trees that sit awkwardly on the side of the rocks.

  Once I’m at the top, I don’t go to the edge. Looking down will only scare me. If I’m going to do this, I can’t see where I’m going. Blue’s expecting me to take a walk of shame down the rocks or is waiting for his opportunity to rescue the damsel in distress. Neither is going to happen.

  I breathe in and breathe out before sealing my eyes shut. Then I run and find myself flying. My eyes open mid-air and at the moment, I love the lack of control. The thrill of falling.

  My body darts against the water, causing waves of commotion above me as I sink. I hold my breath for as long as I can. Slowly, I rise to the top. When I surface, sight and sounds are blurred. I spit water off the edge of my mouth, pull my hair out of my face and see Blue right in front of me. Even with blurred vision, he’s gorgeous.

  He grabs me by the waist again, pulling me close to him. He doesn’t hesitate. It’s quick and it’s heaven. His lips are on mine. I wrap my arms around his neck and sink deeper into his mouth. This is as close as we’ve been since the night we met. And I’m wishing we could stay locked like this forever.

  Then he pulls away but still holds me. “I think I really like you,” he says. “Like, I think I’m in like with you.”

  “In like with me?” I ask, pushing him away, playfully and not serious. “What the hell does that even mean?”

  He shrugs his shoulders. “It means that I’m not in love with you, but I could be someday.”

  There’s that word again. Someday. “Well, then, I think I’m in like with you, too.”

  It sounds stupid. Maybe it is, maybe it’s not. But it feels right. Whatever it is, it’s ours.

  I embrace him one more time, and behind me, I can feel the coolness of the sun beginning to set.

  * * *

  We’re back on top of the cliff. Blue sits with his back against a rock formation. My head rests on his lap, on the thin fabric of his damp boxers. I’m looking out into the distance, not thinking about anything in particular. Not even dreaming.

  Like Blue, I’m almost naked, but I don’t feel like it. When you’re naked, you feel exposed and vulnerable. Neither of those is true at this moment. I feel safe and free.

  I turn my head gently and peer up at him. He’s looking out into the distance, across the quarry and into the forest. “You’ve got something on your mind.”

  “I do,” he replies without breaking focus. “Just thinking about earlier.”

  I haven’t thought about our pit stop at the carnival for hours. It’s been the furthest thing from my mind. Now, it all comes back to me. The Blue that Marvin told me about isn’t the same Blue that I’m lying on. He’s not the same Blue that I’m falling in love with.

  “Can I tell you something?” he asks.

  “Anything.”

  He bites into his lip and pulls a finger to his mouth, just on the edge of chewing on it. “Earlier, at the carnival, I was angry. I felt like I could have punched my fist through a brick wall.” He stops, contemplating. “There are things in my past that I’ve tried to get past, and in that camper, it all came flooding back to me.” His voice is shaky, as if he’s on the verge of some revelation.

  “You don’t have to talk about if you don’t want to.”

  “Thank you,” he says softly and combs his hand through my hair.

  I rise up and sit beside him. He grabs my hand with his and I lean in and kiss him on the lips. It’s not passionate. Just soft and comforting.

  No matter where he’s been or what he’s done. It’s in the past and it doesn’t matter.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Blue says it’s our third date. Summer says it’s our second. I say we’re still at one. Going to a bar with four other people is not a date, unless it’s a group date, which is an interesting thought. I’m with Blue, Summer’s flirting with the bartender, and Tyson rubs his junk all over Joey’s ass, which is extremely homoerotic. They’re just too drunk to know that, let alone care.

  The four of us drove up to Columbus earlier to surprise Summer. In typical Summer fashion, she was the one to surprise us. Joey brought balloons painted with scary clowns, Tyson brought a vibrator, and I brought a bottle of whiskey. Call us the three wise men. We walked down the narrow hallway of her dorm, and when we came to her room, we busted through the door to surprise her. Blue waited in the hallway—which, in hindsight, was the smart thing to do.

  The bottle of whiskey dropped to the ground and shattered. Joey retreated and Tyson looked on like a natural voyeur as Summer was being double teamed by twins. My first thought was to intervene, but it quickly became apparent that she was a willing participant.

  Then she noticed us and screamed
. She knocked the two guys off the bed, one on each side, and then wrapped the sheet around her. “Just a moment.”

  I exited the room, shaking off a laugh. Tyson was still watching, though I’m not sure what for. It’s not like he’s into redheads. That was when I first became suspicious.

  The way he moves against Joey now? I sense a closet door creaking open in the very near future. Blue is off in the bathroom or something; I couldn’t really hear where he said he was going. It’s my first time at a club and it’s overwhelmingly loud. The bass thumps off the walls in perfect sync with the laser lights scanning the crowd.

  It’s just Summer and me at the bar. We’re waiting on our shots, some mysterious drink called a pancake. It’s the house special and I’m eager to see what it is.

  “Do you do this every night?” I can barely hear myself over the music.

  She nods. “Just on Fridays and Saturdays,” she says. “Sometimes Wednesdays. It’s where I picked up the twins.”

  “That was two days ago.”

  She shrugs and grins wickedly. “I’ve been very busy.”

  The hunky bartender, Jayson, pushes four shot glasses toward us. Alcohol in two, orange juice in the others.

  “What’s in it?” I ask Jayson, taking notice of the tribal tattoos painted on his bulging biceps.

  “Jameson and Butterscotch.” He leans in. “Tastes like breakfast in your mouth.”

  “Are these on the house?” Summer asks, puckering her lips.

  Jayson leans in and gives her a peck on the cheek. “No.”

  Summer frowns.

  “Instead of pouting, you should be thankful that I’m letting you drink.” There’s cockiness in his voice, and he certainly carries it well.

  “Just put it on my tab,” I say and hand him my dad’s card.

  “Cheers to college.” Summer bumps her shot with mine.

  I take the pancake in one go and slam the glass down on the slippery bar. I turn around, grimacing on the inside, smiling on the outside. It tastes exactly like breakfast. Blue emerges from the darkness of the dance floor. “Where have you been?” I ask him as he wraps his arms around me.

  “I’ve been looking for you.”

  “I’ve been at the bar all night.”

  “Yeah, I noticed. We should dance.” He grabs my hand and pulls me toward the dance floor. His hand is sweaty and clammy. I pull back.

  “Why are you so sweaty?” I notice a thick sheen of sweat smeared across the top of his face, dousing his hair.

  He shrugs and smiles. “I get really hot, really easy.” Then his hand is on mine again as he attempts to pull me to the floor. I push my feet against the floor, resisting. “What’s the matter? Can’t dance?”

  “I’ll make an ass out of myself.”

  He points to Joey, who is now bumping and grinding all over a short-haired blonde girl. He has the rhythm of a legless socialite. “You couldn’t possibly look any worse than him. Besides, everyone’s too drunk to pay attention. I’m definitely drunk, and I like to dance when I’m drunk.”

  “Well, if you promise not to be embarrassed by me, then I’ll oblige.”

  “That word isn’t in my vocabulary, so I’m a little unsure if that was a yes.”

  “It was a yes,” I say and take charge, leading him past Joey and his tramp, and into the center of the floor. I turn on my heel and push my back against him. He grabs me by the hips, pushing me into effortless sync with the music.

  The way he moves is slow and sensual. Every move choreographed to the slowed down beat, a far cry from the dance anthems of the past hour.

  His palm runs against the fabric of my jeans, down toward my crotch. I don’t want to stop him, but I look to make sure no one is watching too closely. The last thing I need is to become an internet sensation. When I’m sure nobody’s watching, I lean my neck against his shoulder and he presses his lip to my collarbone, sending endless vibrations through my bones.

  I can feel him growing against the small of my back. With one of his hands still against me, the other rises under my shirt, caressing my stomach. I’m being touched in four different places, a sensual assault on my entire body.

  “I want you,” he huffs into my ear. The warmth of his breath going in one end and out the other. “Right here on the dance floor, and I don’t care who is watching.” His hand rubs against me, pushing against me through the thick denim of my jeans. And I’m two seconds away from public indecency charges on my rap sheet.

  I break away, glancing back at him with a knowing look. He gives chase and we weave through the crowds and find the stairway to the second level. We fumble up the steps to find a door at the top. When I give the knob a forceful pull, the door stays in place, locked.

  “I’ve got this,” Blue says and pushes past me in the narrow hallway. He retrieves a card from his wallet and slides it between the crack of the door, against the locking mechanism. After a few tries, his criminal skills allow him to pull the door open. I rush past him and he shuts the door behind us.

  Blue hops across the counter of an unmanned bar, scavenging for free alcohol. I make my way to the edge of the second floor to a railing that overlooks the rest of the club. You can see everyone and everything from up here, including Summer, who is flirting with the bartender. And I think, This is what I gave up. The college experience. The big city life that I’ve always wanted.

  Blue’s warm hands brush against my skin, right above my hips. “Jack or Jose?” he breathes against my neck.

  “Neither.”

  Two full bottles clatter, and then roll against the ground. “What about some Blue?”

  A light chuckle. “That’s more like it.”

  He pushes himself tight against me, mouthing kisses against my neck. It feels so—

  “Dylan,” I say.

  “Huh?” Blue asks, pulling away from me.

  “Dylan’s here.”

  He maneuvers through the crowd with his head held high, looking for any of us. He’s completely out of his element here in this club, in the city, dressed in his country-boy attire. The entire club goes black and the music cuts to an abrupt stop. The crowd is torn between panicked cries and loud boo’s.

  Then, like serendipity, the lights flash on from directly behind us. The club is lit up as the lights cast our silhouettes onto the crowd. Dylan looks up, blinded, with one hand over his eyes. I push Blue backward, out of sight, as dance music begins to blare.

  “Do you think he saw us?”

  “Who cares,” he says with a smile.

  “I’m going to have to take a rain check on this public act of depravity.” I pat him on his chest and head for the door.

  * * *

  We find Dylan at the bar, pushing two empty shot glasses toward Jayson. I approach him slowly, unsure if he saw me and Blue in the loft. I grab him at the shoulder. “Hey,” I say. He doesn’t budge to my touch. “I thought you weren’t coming.”

  He holds up two fingers to Jayson, who begins pouring two shots. Then he turns to me, gripping himself against the bar. “I said I had to work. Now I’m off.” He scratches at the mold above his lip, glaring at Blue. “Something going on with the two of you?”

  “We were just dancing.”

  “Really?” He points to the loft. “You call that dancing? It looked like foreplay to me.”

  “We’re just having fun.”

  “You can stop being coy and just tell me what’s going on.”

  “I think we’re dating.”

  He laughs drunkenly. “You’re dating a carnie. Awesome.” He turns back around and grabs the two shots, offering one up to me. I shake my head, fearful of an escalation that could cause a scene. He pushes the shot toward Blue.

  “No thanks, man.”

  Dylan huffs. “Don’t act like I’m your friend.” He throws back one shot and slams the glass down on the counter. It’s a welcome surprise when it doesn’t shatter. Then he shoots the other shot, this time slamming it harder against the counter. Broken glass slides ag
ainst the bar.

  Jayson motions toward the muscular bouncer standing in a corner nearby. I grab at Dylan’s arm, attempting to get him out of the club with dignity. He jerks back and falls against the bar.

  “Dylan, come on.”

  “You’re out of here,” the bouncer says sternly, grabbing Dylan forcibly by the arm. Dylan pulls himself away, and the bouncer pushes him in the back, guiding him toward the exit. Blue waits behind as I follow them out of the bar and into the alley. “Don’t come back for at least six months,” the bouncer says as he pushes Dylan into the road. “You’re banned.”

  “You’ve had too much to drink,” I say softly.

  He collects himself, shrugging his shoulders and straightening his clothes. “I know, right?” He laughs. “I’m just gonna go sleep in my truck. Go back inside.”

  “Dylan…”

  “Just go,” he says with his back facing me as he walks down the dark alley toward the parking lot.

  * * *

  I find Summer at the bar getting Jayson’s number. I find Tyson in the stairwell half asleep on his back. And I find Joey in the girls’ restroom having a little too much fun with the short-haired blonde girl, but Blue is nowhere to be found.

  I push through the waning crowds, seemingly going in circles around the entire club infinite times until I finally spot him running down the same steps where I had found Tyson, and the same steps that lead to the loft.

  “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Where have you been?”

  “Nowhere.”

  I give him The Look.

  “Fine. I was upstairs drinking for free.”

  “Whatever. I’ve managed to round up everyone. We need to go out to Dylan’s truck, pick him up, and take him back to Summer’s dorm with us. He’s too drunk to be driving anywhere.”

  “All right, that’s fine.”

  The closing-time lights all flick on, illuminating the darkness, including many things that are best left in the dark. There’s visible shame on many faces, drunken wonderment on many others. But the thing that strikes me the most is the way they illuminate Blue’s eyes, pulling something into focus I thought I had seen earlier. They’re like cop sirens, white, blue, and bloodshot red.