Nudge 22 The Wet Forehead #2
The ride whirrs raucously to life, the vibrations echoing through both of our bodies and the far-too-thin metal.
We jolt forward instantly, sealed into our fate, before oh-so-slowly creeping towards our doom.
I can feel Aiden’s breath catch as we begin our ascent, the vessel climbing the slope so tortuously slow.
The speed of the climb makes it all that much worse, and, given how stone-faced he is, Aiden certainly agrees.
‘See, it’s slow. This is not that bad,’ I lie, overcome by an instinct to calm his nerves.
He grunts. ‘That’s how they get you. They lull you into a false sense of security, and then BAM.’
‘Bam?’
‘Bam,’ he says solemnly. ‘See those people in front? They’re almost at the drop – listen for their screams.’
Like clockwork, the carriage plunges off the edge and the sound of their shrieks floods the air around us. I can feel Aiden’s whole body stiffen as we near their old point.
‘Want me to draw a letter on your arm to calm you down?’ I say jokingly.
For a moment – literally less than a second – his mouth contorts into a smile. In fact, if I saw correctly, I think a small little huff of laughter escaped from his nose as well.
‘Thought you’d be shitting yourself,’ he says, diverting the focus.
‘Me? Never.’ I say, and he scoffs in disbelief. ‘OK, I was. But is that not what this challenge is for? Plus, your fear’s making it easier to forget about mine.’
He turns to face me, a begrudging smile on his face as he prepares to deny his fear one more time.
But before he has a chance, our carriage comes to an abrupt halt.
My stomach leaps into my throat in time with the steep drop, the world dissipating into nothing but swirls and blurs.
The ride ricochets off more sides than I believe possible, tossing us around like rag dolls in the process.
I try as best as I can to clamp my jaw shut – to float through this like I’m entirely unfazed – but I needn’t bother.
Even my loudest screams are drowned out by the shrieks of the man next to me.
I can feel every flex of his annoyingly hard biceps as he bellows and howls, and squeezes hold of me.
We lurch forward as the carriage hits new flat ground, falling back into our seats with a thud.
As we slowly coast forward, I’m spared a moment to catch my breath and take in my finally clear surroundings.
Once again, all is steady and right with the world.
Better in fact, because I now know that Aiden Edwards screams like a baby.
I shriek with laughter, the sound vibrating through my body and rippling into his chest. He still hasn’t let go and a part of me hopes that he’ll keep me trapped in his arms just a bit longer.
It’s nothing to do with him, of course, but there’s an odd comfort in his embrace.
A small pleasure to be found in the feel of his warm body pressed against mine.
I snuggle closer without thinking and await his inevitable recoil, but it doesn’t come. Instead, he pulls my body closer so he can lightly rest his head on top of mine. The effect is more dizzying than the death-defying drop we just survived on the rollercoaster.
‘I can feel it coming,’ he says.
‘What?’ I ask in a daze.
He’s fretting. ‘The next drop. I can feel it. We’ve been flat for too long.’
‘You think there’s another one?’ I ask.
‘You don’t?’ he replies, his chin rustling my hair each time he speaks.
‘I don’t know. I figured one might be enough.’
‘One is never enough for the maniacs who build these things.’
Screams sound faintly in the near distance, echoing their way back to our terrified ears. Except this time, they come with a grand finale, culminating in a definitive and spine-chilling splash.
‘There’s water?’
My features contort into unbridled fear. Speed, I can do. Drops, I can manage. But water? Water is where I draw the line. I did not account for water. I did not wear the right clothes, or right shoes, or right hair to get wet today.
‘It’s a water park, Maddy,’ Aiden says dryly, regaining some of his trademark bravado.
‘Not every ride at a water park soaks its victims. If I knew I would have brought a coat or plastic bag or something.’
‘It’s just a bit of water,’ he says. ‘We’ll be fine.’
‘You, with less than one inch of hair and no make-up on, may be fine,’ I tut, shifting from his shoulder to try to get a look ahead.
‘If it’s that important to you, why didn’t you check if this was a super soaker beforehand?’
‘Because I didn’t plan this, remember? I just dived in,’ I huff, turning to face him.
His features soften for a moment, a part of him almost proud, before his brow furrows and he starts to jump into action.
‘How long do you reckon we’ve got? Ten? Fifteen seconds?’
‘Not helping,’ I say, the nerves rising in my stomach.
I’ve never been good at being caught by surprise – a lesson my parents learnt very early on.
The poor pair found themselves having to make scheduled itineraries for every single planned family day out.
One time they tried to be cool parents and take us out of school for a surprise day trip, and I was so outraged that they had no choice but to turn the car around and reschedule for a day when I had fewer commitments, and prior notice.
The older I got, the more life hammered it out of me because you can’t throw a tantrum like that as an adult.
But that doesn’t mean I don’t still get the feeling inside – the thudding heartbeat and sweaty-palmed panic that comes with the unexpected.
And right now, I can’t think of anything worse than being unexpectedly hit by what sounds like a tsunami’s worth of water.
‘Looks like we have enough time for this,’ Aiden says, starting to strip down to just his T-shirt.
‘We’re about to be soaking wet . . . You want to be cold too?’ I ask, trying my best not to glance down at his briefly exposed lower abdomen.
‘I mean, I’d rather not. But you seem like you need this more.’ He shoves his hoodie towards me with urgency. ‘Wrap it around your body; use it to cover your head . . . Whatever makes the big bad water go away.’
‘Are you sure?’ I ask, dubiously trying to make sense of his sudden random act of kindness.
‘One hundred per cent, if it stops you from moaning all day,’ he teases. ‘We’re getting closer – hurry up. And stop checking me out.’
‘I wasn’t! I wouldn’t—’
‘Maddy, chill.’ He smirks.
I snatch the hoodie from his hands and wrap it around my head, clinging onto it as tightly as humanly possible.
His eyes look over me with a confusing intensity, softened only by the bemused pout of his lips.
He tilts his head, gaze frozen on my face with something I’d almost mistake for affection, before breaking his hold with a fond shake of his head.
‘What?’ I ask, perplexed.
‘Nothing,’ he says, attempting to swallow his grin. ‘Now hold tight. This one looks like a heart attack waiting to happen.’
He scoops me back under his arm, gripping tightly for good measure.
A string of profanities leap from both of our mouths as we plunge into a drop even steeper than the one before.
Our screams meet each other’s in perfect harmony, the volume climbing with every metre that we fall.
I would try to close my mouth, but gravity won’t let me, so the sound lives on, punctuated by an almighty crash of a wave.
I feel the slap of the water before I have time to see it, overcome with an ice-cold bite as it floods the floor.
The wave soaks through every inch of my clothing and invades every orifice, bringing with it a cold and uncomfortable chill.
I expect to feel sick, or enraged, but as we coast towards the end, I feel quite the opposite.
Instead, I’m overcome with an electric surge of adrenaline.
The fabric of the hoodie has absorbed most of the water, leaving my hair and most of my face mercifully dry.
Endorphins flood my system more than the water ever could, and my skin feels on fire with the thrill of the ride.
We turn one final corner before the ride comes to a halt, the safety bar raising and the sound of crowds returning.
Aiden wastes no time at all leaping from his seat and clambering out to plant his shoes on solid ground.
He turns back to me, reaching out his hand in what I can only assume is an act of solidarity.
I take it and he silently pulls me across the gap from the carriage back to the land.
Our eyes meet the second my soggy sneakers hit the ground and I can tell, even through his grumpy facade, he enjoyed it as much as I did.
The adrenaline in the air is thick enough to taste; we’re both coming down from the same deliciously dangerous high.
I can see his shoulders relax as we head for the exit.
‘Let’s do that again!’ I say, heart still threatening to jump.
‘Fuck, no.’ He shakes his head. ‘Unless you really, really must?’
I shake my head, satisfied by the knowledge he would face such a huge fear again if I asked him nicely enough.
The grin stays plastered to my face all throughout our descent, from the purchase of overpriced gift-shop towels to the reveal of our disgusting souvenir picture.
I look like a drowned rat, but Aiden physically flinches at the expression of pure terror on his face that the camera caught in deliciously high definition.
That’s more than enough for me. I buy it on a strip, a keyring and a fridge magnet, much to his dismay.
He huffs as I pay and grimaces as they bag it, but I catch him smiling at the Polaroid strip when I come out from the toilet after fixing my hair.
As we walk through the park, patting ourselves dry, I can see him eyeing up some of the other rides with curiosity.
‘Which one next?’ I ask.
‘I think one was enough.’
‘I really don’t think Evie would agree,’ I say. ‘Where’s your sense of adventure? Your spontaneity? This is not the same boy that jumped in that brook.’
‘You need to calm down. And maybe lay off the fizzy drinks.’
He watches fondly as I pull a face at his teasing advice, before fixing his eyes on a spot on my forehead.
‘You’re still dripping, here.’ He reaches for his own towel and shuffles closer, lightly touching it to the edge of my forehead and diligently patting it dry.
He works with intense skill and precision, carefully studying my face as he softly completes his mission.
The water is gone, but his hand still lingers, as does his gaze.
His eyes are locked in now – fixed gently onto my own, only breaking to steal fevered glances at my softly pursed lips.
My breath catches in my chest, held in place by the force behind his gaze and the sudden stillness of everything around us.
Something’s shifted. Something that’s made my mouth go dry and the rest of the world cease to exist.
He feels it too, the force between us pulling him in, his face coming closer and mine willing it with every step.
His hand moves to cup my head and he gulps.
‘Maddison, I—’
A piercing screech sounds from my pocket, breaking us apart. We spring from each other, and I fumble around and reach to turn it off as the noise gets steadily louder and more intrusive.
‘What was that?’ he asks, still recovering from the sudden interruption.
‘A timer. Must have accidentally had it set or something.’
It’s a feeble excuse, but less pathetic than the truth and a perfect distraction from whatever that just was.
I unlock my phone and take a quick peek .
. . Three and a half hours is up and still no message from Benji.
I look at the chat, in case there was a message that didn’t pop up on the home screen.
Nothing. Not a thing this whole entire time.
‘So, what next?’ Aiden asks.
‘Lunch?’ I say.
I don’t know what just happened between us, but I’m attributing it to adrenaline and the lack of food, so an overpriced hot dog has never been more alluring.
‘Works for me – I’m buying,’ he says jokingly, wiggling Evie’s company card as we make our way towards the closest kiosk.
He carries on as normal and I try to follow his lead.
This is Aiden. Aiden Edwards. The Primary School Prick.
I check my phone as he orders us both jumbo hot dogs with extra fries.
Still nothing from Benji.