A starry-eyed brunette, an education major, walks hand in hand with a tall geek, a computer science major, from the previous decade. Their relationship is new, untested, and beautiful. They probably met during the unofficial freshman orientation, the one where they hid away from the noise and the parties within the safe walls of the multiple-floor library. They both come from nice families, but her parents are on the verge of a divorce. See? I know them. The only real question is, why the hell is there a four-story library?
“Earth to Charlie.” Summer waves a hand in my face.
“What?”
“Did you hear anything I just said to you?”
“Uhm…”
She rolls her eyes, then grabs me by the arm, pulling me down onto the seat of a fountain. “I saw the two of you last night on the dance floor,” she says, and I perk up. “The sparks lit up the entire room—figuratively, of course. So my question is, for the third time, how much do you like him?”
“Blue?” I ask rhetorically. “Too much for barely knowing him.”
“And where does that leave Dylan?”
My palms press against the damp rocks of the fountain. “Friends?”
“You would give up Dylan for Blue? I’m not judging, just assessing the situation.”
“We haven’t been together for months, and there’s no doubt that I still love him. I probably always will, but with Blue, I’m just falling so quickly, and I’m not really giving myself time to think things through.”
She turns to me. “Then don’t think. Just keep falling.”
“I want to,” I say, running fingers through my hair. “But I think he was on drugs last night.”
“Oh, he was definitely rolling on Molly last night,” she says without thought.
I burn a hole through her with my glare. “How would you know?”
Her smile fades. “Just a guess,” she says nervously, her palm running against the rocks.
“So he was on drugs?”
She glares at me, her eyes lining up twelve jurors. “What’s the big deal?”
The big deal?
Her shoulders rise and fall. “We’re young and stupid, and drug use doesn’t always mean drug abuse.”
I bite into my cheek. “I guess.”
“Don’t guess me. If you like him as much as you say you do, then you’re stupid if you give him up over some minor drug use.”
“Thanks,” I say. “You may not always be the most tactful, but you always steer toward being right.”
She grins. “I guess that’s why I’m in college and you’re not.”
I push her above her breast. She falters backward, almost landing in the fountain before grabbing onto the rocks to break her fall.
“Oops,” I say. “I guess I can’t control myself, probably because I’m an uneducated bitch.”
“Just remember that you’re the one who said it.”
We both stand up. “What should I do?” I ask.
“Just keep on doing what you’ve been doing.”
“We’re supposed to go to the Founders Carnival tomorrow.”
“Then do that,” she says pointedly.
“Should I at least confront him?”
“No, you should lighten up and take a hit.” Her eyes flicker and she tosses a shoulder. “It’s fun.”
“And how would you know that?”
“I took some ecstasy last week.”
Good grief. I really should have gone to college, if for no other reason than to watch after her. She obviously needs adult supervision.
When I dropped Dylan off at his pick-up, which was left in the seedy parking lot of the club, Tyson and Joey decided to ride home with him. I’m sure I was the talk of the truck.
Blue and I decided to get ice cream as we crossed county lines, back into Lakeview. I put my car in park, prepared to walk into Burger Shack for the first time since I was fired. It was the day after I turned seventeen. I knew I had to work the following morning, so I had a birthday night planned that involved sobriety. That plan was shattered thanks to a surprise party thrown by Summer at the request of Dylan, which resulted in the loss of my job due to a hangover. That’s the day I first began to hate surprises.
I pull the glass door open, hanging my head in shame. Blue walks behind me, shades covering his eyes—a different kind of shame.
“Hey,” Cassadee James screeches at me from across the counter. Automatically, a hand clasps around my ear, a defense mechanism. I bite into my cheek and raise my head, forcing a smile. “Welcome to Burger Shack, can I get you a triple stack—”
“No.”
“Okay…” she says, her hands folding against the counter.
“I just want a triple thick, blueberry, strawberry, chocolate shake.” I turn to Blue. “What do you want?”
“Whatever you just said, I’ll take that.”
I turn back to Cassadee. “Did you hear that?”
She nods. The tip of her ridiculous Burger Shack hat tilts as she fumbles for the correct keys on the register. “Your total comes to seven eighty-eight.”
I grab for my purse but, unfortunately, my arm isn’t long enough to reach my car. Blue smacks a twenty against the counter. “Keep the change,” he smiles at the temptress. I can’t see through his shades, but I can read his poker face. He has to be joking.
I pull him aside. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“That girl’s not going to last here. I give her a week before she’s unemployed again.”
“So?”
“I’m a charitable guy.” He flips his shades up and grins, his eyes reminiscent of glass.
“Well, aren’t you a prince.” I grab his shades and pull them back down.
“Order’s ready!” Cassadee yells, followed by a slap of a bell that makes my ears bleed.
I step to the counter and grab our shakes, one in each hand. I pass one off to Blue as we exit through the glass doors with no intention of coming back for another year, or until she’s fired.
“We’re going to need to set ground rules,” I say wryly.
He laughs. “Seriously?”
“You don’t know—” I come to an immediate halt that causes Blue to bump into me. I almost drop my shake when I see my dad leaning against the hood of my car. “What are you doing here?”
“I was in the drive-thru getting a triple stacker when I saw your car. Thought I’d come say hi.”
“That’s unfortunate, because I’m actually in a hurry.”
He stands up straight, but I push past him and open the car door.
“You can’t spare a few minutes for your dad?”
Blue perks up and turns on one foot to size him up.
“You want to tell me who this gentleman is, at least?”
I have no current plans to do so.
“I’m Blue.” He extends his hand.
My dad hesitates before giving him a disturbingly firm shake. “I know you from somewhere, don’t I?”
“No, sir,” Blue says through gritted teeth, playing it smart, using the respect card.
“If you’re done murdering my boyfriend, can I go?” I ask dryly.
“Boyfriend?” He turns to me, freeing Blue of his grip.
Blue flexes his hand, shaking the cramps off, while mouthing to me, Ow!
My eyes roll. “This isn’t a conversation we’re going to have.” I take a seat in the car and shut the door.
“You can’t stay mad at me forever, Char-Bear.”
I glare at him. “Don’t call me that.”
He laughs nervously as he scratches the side of his head.
“Blue, get in the car.”
He does as he’s told, but moves much slower than I’d like. Damn hangover.
“I know that kid from somewhere,” my dad says quietly, then leans against my window, resting his elbows on the seal. “Since I’m a lawyer, you know what that probably means.”
“That you’re a liar?” I smile broadly, though he probably has a point, I’m not going t
o give him that kind of power over me—the kind where he’s right and I’m wrong.
Blue shuts the door as he scoots into his seat. My dad’s eyes focus intently on the side of Blue’s face.
“Be careful,” my dad says as I pull the car into reverse, prepared to run over his foot if I have to.
I pull the car into the supermarket parking lot, right beside Blue’s Jeep. “Do you know my dad?” I ask as the car comes to a stop.
He shakes his head. “Not that I’m aware of. Maybe I just have a familiar face.”
“You’ve got many things going for you, but a common face isn’t one of them,” I say, taking in the view of his gorgeousness and paying close attention to the edge of his jaw, where his boyish features blend into a masculine physique. “Trust me, I would know.”
“Are you saying I’m cute?”
“I’m saying there aren’t enough words.”
“I’d kiss you, but I haven’t brushed my teeth since last night.”
“Thank you for caring. You can just make it up with me tomorrow with two kisses.”
“Right, then.” He pops his door open. “I’ll pick you up then.” He hops out of the car, and then shuts the door gently, peering inside before he leaves. “By the way, what does your dad do?”
“He’s made a career out of lying,” I huff. “He’s a lawyer. Trust me. I’m used to getting the third degree.”
His throat pulls tight, his fingers dancing along the edge of the window. “Awesome.”
I sense it in his voice and it’s something else we have in common—we both hate lawyers.
Chapter Fourteen
My favorite part of the Founders Carnival is the Metallic Monster. It’s a roller coaster that’s only a fraction of the size of thrill rides at amusement parks, but it gets the job done. It sits at the front of the carnival and promises an adventure much more thrilling than it actually is. Behind that beautiful monster is just another mundane carnival.
We arrived about an hour before sunset. Blue was hesitant at first, wanting to avoid another confrontation with his father, I assume. He doesn’t know anything Marvin told me or even that he told me anything at all, and I want to keep it that way—even if part of me wants him to open up and fully let me in. It’s still the beginning of our relationship and I figure in time he’ll trust me enough with his past.
I don’t blame him for withholding. There are things in my past that I’m not sharing, and it would be hypocritical to demand to know all his darkest secrets when I’m still carrying my own cheetah-print baggage.
We’ve been treated like royalty from the time we hit the front gate. Not only did we get free admission, score, but Blue promised we would be treated to free food and front-of-the-line admissions. You already know how much I love thrill rides—especially hastily-put-together roller coasters. And I definitely love fair food even if I hate the extra hours in the gym the following week. It can take up to twenty hours on the treadmill to burn the extra calories, but it’s more than a fair—get it?—tradeoff.
“You know I’m eying the Metallic Monster,” I say to Blue.
“That thing?” He points to the coaster. “You don’t wanna ride that.”
“I’ve been riding it since I was six.”
“I’m surprised you’re still alive.”
“I’ve cheated death more than my fair share of times,” I say. “When I was three years old, I was playing with my baby doll, Lilly, in the road. A trucker was speeding down the road and didn’t see me. So my dad ran into the road, pushed me into the grass, and saved me.” I shrug my shoulders. “At least that’s what he says. I don’t remember it.”
“Didn’t you say your dad was a liar?”
“Yeah,” I say, mildly offended. It’s different when it’s someone else pointing out my dad’s flaws, and there are plenty of them. “But that was before we had contempt for each other.”
“I shouldn’t have said that.” He shakes his head. “I’m sorry.”
And that’s why our relationship works. He can sense when I’m upset without needing signs or without me spelling it out for him with my words. “It’s all right.” I see an opening and take it. “What about your dad?”
He bites into his cheek, uncomfortable. “What about him?”
My hands rub against each other, unsure if I should press on. “What’s he like?”
“I don’t really know him.” His words come out slow and sheepish.
Liar! It angers me, saddens me. This is the second time in three days that he’s lied to me. Why doesn’t he just say We don’t talk or I wish I didn’t. I can’t say anything to him without admitting my own guilt of peeking into his past. We’re going to have a good night, even if it means saving all the bullshit for later.
“I’m riding the Metallic Monster with or without you,” I say, putting an end to the conversation.
“Fine. We’ll ride the monster. But if we start to derail, I expect a kiss before we die.”
“Oh.” I smile. “I’ll be holding you the entire way down.”
“Then I hope we go off the rails.”
My smile turns to a frown. “Why would you say that?”
“Isn’t it obvious? I wanna hold you.”
“I’ll tell you what. If you’re that afraid of a simple carnival ride, you can hold onto me the entire time, whether or not we’re on our way to our deathbeds.”
“I think we’re gonna have a good night.” He nods.
“Going to be a great night,” I add.
He grabs my hand and we begin walking toward the line for the monster. “I wanna talk to you about something later,” he says with a hint of trouble vibrating in his voice. “It’s our fourth date and I have something I wanna show you.”
By his count, it’s four. By mine, it’s two.
The worst part of cutting a line is looking at the faces on all of the children. Blue and I make our way to the front of the line and stand against the gate. Blue shakes hands with the carnie and makes light conversation. I’m too busy scanning the crowd to listen to what they’re saying. In the back of the line, I spot Dylan and Tyson. If Blue and I are going to have a good night, avoiding Dylan is a necessity.
I turn around to shield my face from them, hoping they didn’t see me. Dylan would give me a lecture about how we should be together again. Tyson would want to follow us around, cutting all the lines. I just want to be alone with Blue all evening.
“Roger’s gonna let us get on next,” Blue says, talking about the ginger carnie.
“Is he one of your friends?”
“No.” He shakes his head. “We hate each other, but he owes me.”
“C’mon, asshole!” Roger yells. I turn toward him in shock. There are kids in this line, and then I take a short glance at those kids that we’re ditching. Blue grabs my hand and pulls me through the gate.
I get into the train and pull the harness down over my head, and then look up to see Blue pat Roger on the shoulder. “Thanks, buddy,” he says condescendingly.
Roger gives Blue the finger. Blue responds with a light chuckle.
The chains below us pull tight, causing our car to jerk. Blue’s face goes stiff. Knowing that he loves the thrill of roller coasters gives me reason to worry. He knows this ride better than I do. He’s assembled it countless times, so I probably should have listened to his reasonable wisdom earlier.
The train cranks its way up the incline, maybe a hundred feet in the air. We’re in the second seat of the second train, so we’ll have the best of both worlds. At the tip of the ride, you can see everything for miles. It’s a reminder how terribly boring and flat the world around us really is. Above us, storm clouds race against the clock of the setting sun, and I’m hoping the rain holds off for the next minute and thirty seconds.
Blue takes in a deep breath as the car in front of us peeks over the edge and I know we’re at the point of no return. This is it.
The sudden drop is equally terrifying and euphoric. The metal of the train gri
nding against the metal of the track is reminiscent of a certain horror film involving final destinations. Blue’s hand falls into mine and grasps it as tight as a woman giving birth.
I scream into the wind, my hair blowing in a million directions. This right here is freedom. It’s ecstasy. It’s a drug. Everything inside me floats over the second hill, like an out-of-body experience. I’m far from my own body. Tears begin to well up in my eyes as the wind lashes against us.
There’s a jarring jerk as we come to a winding curve. The train turns onto its side, circling around the track. Angled just enough so that you could fall out, but you won’t. I swear I can hear the hydraulic fluid shooting out the side as the brakes screech against steel. My ecstatic glee is threatened by impending death.
Blue screams, finally letting go and throwing worry away at the most worrisome time. His hands rise into the air, clapping at the peak of the third hill. He tangles one hand with mine, the force of the strong wind unable to break us.
When the ride comes to a sudden halt, the revolutionary idea that we survived is a well-earned relief.
The rain came about three minutes after we stepped off the roller coaster. We were standing in line waiting for our fries when it hit. I was forced to forego the vinegar as we made a mad dash to the arcade for shelter.
It came fast and hard, like so many other things lately. We barely made it under the thick vinyl tent in time. The rain could be seen racing toward the ground at a pace of about a thousand miles per hour, but the only sounds powerful enough to overtake the noise of the arcade was thunder. And it roared.
“I hope the storm goes away soon, I don’t wanna spend all night in here,” Blue says, leaning against a coin machine.
“Jimmy Clay said on the news this morning that there was a ten percent chance of rain showers,” I say, straightening out a dollar bill on the corner of the machine. “But that was the forecast for this morning. Typical,” I huff.
What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG Book 7) Page 71