Chapter Thirteen
Eliza
“All the world’s a stage…”
—William Shakespeare, As You Like It
Summer may not have been my favorite season, but it was a solid second, thanks to the Fairfield Carnival that always came at the end of June.
Rides, games, and amazing food—I adored all of it.
But what I loved most of all was the way blurred neon colors from the rides spun and twirled, looking like Christmas lights when you lay under a tree.
Tonight, Lauryn and I worked an early shift at the Lyric’s booth, where we sold cups of my grandmother’s famous lemonade and snickerdoodle cookies as well as some beaded bracelets made by the cast and crew.
Grandma had always had a booth at the carnival and gave everything to a local charity, church, or the theater.
Every summer since she passed, I had asked the Lyric to keep the booth going in her honor.
It felt good to finally be on the other side of the table working for a place that brought her so much joy, but I found myself wishing that she stood next to me, that she could tell me if I got the recipes right or notice how I fanned out the paper napkins the same way she would when she hosted tea parties.
After the sun finally went down, Ms. Sparrow and a couple of other techies relieved Lauryn and me, allowing us to wander around till Lauryn found the merry-go-round and tugged me on board.
The carousel chimed and music began as it started spinning.
Lauryn pretended her unicorn was a legit horse and bobbed up and down above the saddle while using a make-believe whip and shouting, “Giddyap!”
I laughed and looped my feet in the footholds, then leaned back and stared at the swirling colors above me while stretching out my arms.
But as the ride slowed down, I could feel someone staring at me from the nearby fence.
Reed stood alone, in a polo shirt that tightly hugged his biceps over a pair of khaki shorts. It was a very different look from his usual athletic shorts and a baseball tee, but it was a good look.
A really good one.
He gave me a small smile and wave, and without hesitating, I did the same.
“Excuse me.” A small kid tapped my sandal strap. “Are you done?”
Oh.
The music had stopped, and new ride-goers were already weaving in between the animals, picking their favorite.
When did the ride stop? And where was Lauryn?
“Sorry.” I swung my leg over and hopped down, sneaking a quick glance over my shoulder in what I hoped was the least obvious way possible, but the spot where Reed had stood a moment ago was now empty.
Some strange, new feeling settled into my stomach—a heaviness I couldn’t explain, couldn’t name.
Or one I wasn’t ready to name yet.
“There you are!” Lauryn shouted as I made my way through the exit. “I got tired of waiting for you, so I snagged us a couple fried Oreos.”
Bless.
I groaned after the first bite. “These are so good, they should be illegal.”
The outside batter was fried to perfection, leaving the inside just warm enough to not be gooey. Pure heaven in a cookie.
“So where to next?” Lauryn asked. She took a sip of a large sweet tea she had bought before offering it to me.
“Hoops?”
She smiled and flicked her braided pigtails over her shoulders. “Hoops.”
We took a quick detour near the fishbowl toss and lollipop tree, neither of us winning anything but we at least each walked away with a strawberry-flavored Dum-Dum.
The crowd grew heavier the closer we got to older games like hoops, the dunking booth, and the cup catapult toss. Thankfully, by the time we reached the basketball games, the lines weren’t nearly as long as the others.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the princess herself,” a voice snickered from behind me.
Ben gave a fake smile and lifted his hat before taking a pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket. Reed pushed his hand down and said something I couldn’t hear, but it made Ben roll his eyes and put the pack away.
“Eliza Crowley,” I said, sticking out my hand.
“I know.” He looked at it but kept his hands in his pockets. “Ben Talbot.”
Charmed.
“Didn’t realize you could play basketball too, Crowley,” Reed said, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth, where his damn dimple was already on display.
“She dominates this game every summer,” Lauryn said, draping her arm around me.
“Does she?” Reed stepped out of line. “Wanna bet on it?”
Lauryn gave me a small shove toward him.
“Sure.” Something tiny fluttered in my stomach. I tried to ignore it. “Five bucks.”
Reed made a disappointed face and crossed his arms, daring me to look at the lines of muscles winding their way up toward his sleeves.
But I didn’t.
Not for long, anyway.
“Slice of pie at Jenny’s Diner?” he asked.
I stuck out my hand. “Done.”
He shook it and broke eye contact for just a moment to stare at our joined hands before pulling his away. “Yeah…done.”
Ben clapped. “Let’s go!”
While we waited for two guys in front of us to finish their shots, Ben pulled Reed to the side and spoke quietly to him, probably some kind of pep-talk strategy thing. Lauryn leaned in and whispered, “So are you starting lefty or righty?”
I smiled. “What do you think?”
She laughed and rubbed her hands together. “I love it when you start lefty.”
By the time it was our turn, the lines for the cup catapult and dunking booths had all but disappeared, making our audience three times larger than it was when we made the bet.
Lieutenant Rose of the Fairfield Fire Department gave me the ball first and flipped her hat around backward. “All right. You know the rules. You’ve got one minute to make as many shots as you can. Don’t cross the line there by your feet, and no funny business.” She shot Reed a hard glare.
He held up his free hand in defense. “That was six years ago!”
“It took me two days to fix that prize wall, Fulton.”
“But I bet you made it twice as sturdy that second time, right?” He smiled, and she finally caved, laughing as she tossed him his ball.
Reed bumped my shoulder. “Good luck, Crowley.”
I smacked his arm and immediately regretted it. Good Lord, he’s all muscle there.
I shook the thought out of my head, quickly changed my shooting stance to favor my left hand and said, “Won’t need it, Fulton.”
The lieutenant started the countdown timer, and five seconds later, a loud buzz rang through the air. Reed and I began to shoot.
He racked up the points, staying two to three ahead of me, laughing the entire time.
“Why are you smiling, Lauryn?” Ben shouted over the noise around us. “Doesn’t look like she’s ‘dominating.’ ”
Lauryn called out, “That’s because I know something you don’t know.”
“What’s that?”
“She is not left-handed!” Lauryn said in a perfect Inigo Montoya voice.
And that’s my cue.
I changed my footing and switched to my right hand. Reed stopped for a second to gawk and then laugh, a big, booming laugh that made me smile from ear to ear.
I made every shot after I switched hands, and he, clearly frazzled by my surprising changeup, missed one too many.
The buzzer sounded, and the crowd cheered.
“Eliza takes the win!” Lieutenant Rose said before she grabbed a huge green bear from the back wall.
Reed stepped forward to take it. Just as I was about to argue, he turned around and bowed his head to me, holding the bear out as a truce.
“Thank you,” I said, smiling smugly.
But he held on as I pulled it closer and whispered, “It’s a date, then, Crowley.”
“Date”?
My stomach did that little fluttering tap dance again.
Oh, hell. This is not good.
As Lauryn got the crowd to chant my name, a scowling Ben dragged Reed away. Then, the air humidified, and the lights and noise pushed in on me from all sides.
“Hey, you good?” Lauryn guided me away from the game booths toward a bench that sat underneath a tall oak. I flopped down on it, my knees feeling less wobbly when I did.
Why did I have wobbly knees?
Lauryn put a hand on my shoulder. “E?”
“Yeah, I’m just…” Most of my words left me. The ones that stayed behind didn’t make any freaking sense. I sighed. “I dunno what I am.”
She sat down and faced me, tucking one of her legs under the other. “It’s okay, you know.”
“What’s okay?”
“To like him.”
“To like him”? Like him as what? A friend? A…
“You’ve known each other for forever. It was only a matter of time, really—”
“No.” I pressed my fingers against the bridge of my nose, my cheeks now burning. “I’ve known a lot of people for forever, so…so why does it have to be him? Why Reed? Why now?”
She took my hand in both of hers. “I don’t know. But I think you owe it to yourself to figure it out.”
Do I?
She stood. “I’m going to go check on the Lyric booth, see if they need any help. Maybe you should go find those answers? Text me once you do—”
“I dunno—”
“Go, Eliza.”
Ugh. “Fine.” I stood. “Love you.”
“Love you more.”
Lauryn took the bear so I wouldn’t look like an even bigger fool wandering the carnival looking for a boy, and not just any boy, but Reed freaking Fulton. Reed Fulton, who has now totally thrown a wrench in what should’ve been an all-theater summer for me.
You did literally give him the wrench though, Eliza.
I should’ve shut it down after the catwalk, not let him climb up that railcar, not texted him after he left his number on my front porch. And yet, I didn’t. I couldn’t silence the part of me that craved to know more about the person he had grown into over the last four years.
Was that really so bad?
Finally, after I did one complete circle around the swings, I found him about half a football field’s length away. Reed Fulton. Head down, hands in pockets, and headed into the house of mirrors. Alone.
“No way,” I said to no one before turning my back on the warped-looking building. Of all the places he had to disappear into.
Lauryn’s voice danced around in my head. Maybe you should go find those answers?
Dammit.
Sometimes I really hated it when she was right.