Chapter Twenty-Nine. A Super-Duper Airtight, Very Legally Binding Contract
Chapter Twenty-Nine
A Super-Duper Airtight, Very Legally Binding Contract
Group chat started by Cal
[Cal]
some ppl are NOT passing the vibe check (ahem. lix Felix is a leather-jacket-and-racoon-eyeliner-wearing Bad Boy trope; Mateo is a nerd stereotype; and Lachlan …
well, honestly, he doesn’t look that different.
He’s got brown spray-on hair dye and a Thrasher shirt.
It’s pretty effective, though, because unless you get close, he just looks like your run-of-the-mill TikToker with mommy issues who goes viral for mediocre dancing.
I’m in a blond wig and sunglasses. I’m not famous, after all.
Calum pays for six tickets with his ridiculous pin-number-1234 card, and we enter the fairground.
I’m hit with memories of attending the Puyallup Fair with my family.
Dad and I would go to the petting zoo, while Mom and Jo rode roller coasters.
It was a win-win since Jo has an irrational fear of farm animals and I get nauseated on fast rides.
It was one of the best parts of every summer.
Once Will determines the best route, we start exploring. Calum links arms with him, and their cute old couple status is solidified. We take pictures when they aren’t looking. Even Lachlan can’t refrain from documenting the absurdity.
The first twenty minutes are smooth sailing while we play rigged games …
if you don’t count the fact Lachlan and Felix haven’t said a single word to each other, that is.
But the tension is obvious while we’re in line for Dippin’ Dots.
Mateo and I stand next to each other, Calum’s and Will’s arms are linked, and Felix and Lachlan are using all of us as a barrier between them.
Calum jokes around to keep it lighthearted, but Felix and Lachlan don’t play along.
“What’s this about? Seriously! You’ve never kept arguments going this long,” Will says, frustration evident. “Let us help. Tell us.”
They glance at each other—pain from a fractured friendship crackling between them—and for a split second, Lachlan seems ashamed. I dare to hope that they’ll pull their friendship off the cliff’s edge, that somehow they’ll be okay.
“It doesn’t involve you,” Lachlan snaps, his cutting glare aimed at Calum and Will. There goes that hope.
“It does, Lach. It’s affecting the whole band,” Will rebuts. “We’re not expecting— —sunshine and rainbows— —cut the bullshit!” Some parents cover their children’s ears. “Kids these days.” He gestures toward us with a grandfatherly smile.
After we’re handed our ice cream, I glance between Felix and Lachlan, their silent hostility building like a storm cloud. I can’t let this fester, but I can’t risk saying too much.
I look directly at Lachlan and sign, “We all said hurtful things. I’ve not fully forgiven you, but I’m sorry for lashing out.” I hope apologizing will trigger a chain reaction. Even though—ahem—someone has significantly more to apologize for.
For a second, I think he’ll relent, but then his gaze briefly slips to Felix before his response lands like a carefully aimed dart. “I’m not the one who caused this problem. Don’t put this on me.”
“Are you kidding?!” Felix scoffs. “You—”
“I’m done with this bullshit.” Lachlan shoves his Dippin’ Dots at Calum and marches toward the exit, shoulders hiked defensively.
Felix grimaces as he watches Lachlan’s retreating figure. Calum and Will exchange glances, clearly frustrated by the drama they can’t understand. Mateo fidgets awkwardly, and anger twists in my stomach.
“Screw it,” Will gripes. “I’m going back to the hotel. It’s too hot for this.” He motions to his sweater-vest and wig. Mateo nods.
“I’m staying. I’ve got fair food to eat,” Calum says before dumping Lachlan’s cookies-and-cream Dippin’ Dots into his mouth.
“Date night?” I sign to Felix half-jokingly, half-hopeful tonight won’t be a total failure. He offers a strained smile.
Calum wanders off, Will and Mateo walk the same direction as Lachlan, and Felix and I amble toward the Ferris wheel.
Felix takes full advantage of the privacy in our basket and takes my hand. I lean my head on his shoulder, and he presses a kiss into my hair.
“I trust you,” he says out of nowhere.
I sit up, confused. “What?”
He tucks long blond hair behind my ears.
“I was thinking about how hard it is to rely on people, y’know?
” There’s an unspoken sadness in his words, a darkness casting shadows on his light tone.
“But you…” His eyes meet mine, and the somberness slips, replaced with sincerity. “I can tell you anything.”
My heart stirs, and I cup his face. “Same-same.” He leans down to connect our lips. I relax into the kiss, and the weight of the evening momentarily lifts.
He leans back, wearing an impish grin. Uh-oh.
I eye him suspiciously, and he laughs. He reaches into the front pocket on his leather jacket and brandishes a pad of purple sticky notes and a silver glitter pen.
I chuckle at the fact he left his fanny pack at the hotel but still brought emergency Post-it notes.
“Can we promise to always be here for each other?” he asks, hope shining in his eyes. I instantly nod. I can’t imagine not being here for my dazzling boy.
He starts writing, slow and arduously. “Want me to do it?” I ask.
“Thanks.”
I take the pad and transcribe as he speaks. When the note is written, I sign my name at the bottom and hand it to him. He signs below mine.
“You’re stuck with me now. This is super-duper airtight.”
I return his smile—reminded of our first Post-it note contract. As our basket starts lowering, I press a lingering kiss to his cheek. “You’re the only person I’d want to be stuck with, baby,” I whisper against his ear.
26/7
I promise to always be there for you. Rain or shine, up or down.
(Even when you’re annoying)
Natalie Nielsen
F.Song