Chapter Fourteen #2
My jaw slackens, and I look up at him with surprise. “No way!”
“Ugh, seriously?” Dylan complains, and to my surprise, Gareth doesn’t pull away.
Grinning down at me, he says, “Can’t wait to see which one you pick.”
The guy in charge of the booth steps in front of us. “Which fish do you want?” he asks, his voice flat.
Stepping closer so I can see the options, I look for the smallest, saddest-looking goldfish I can find and point at it. “That one, please.”
The guy rolls his eyes before picking up the plastic cup and handing it to me.
“You would pick the one that looks like it’ll be floating by morning.” Dylan scoffs as we walk away. He gave up on winning after missing an embarrassing amount of times.
“Whatever,” I mutter, holding the cup up so I can look at my new pet. Its little mouth opens and closes as if he or she has something to say.
“What’s next?” Gareth asks Dylan, and Dylan points at the Tilt-a-Whirl.
I shake my head as we approach the line queue. “I’ll sit this one out.”
I don’t do spinning rides like this—I don’t have the stomach for it. Plus, I can’t leave my fish unattended.
“Suit yourself!” Dylan calls over his shoulder as he and Gareth hop in line.
There’s a bench across from the ride's exit, so I go sit down while I wait for them. Pulling out my phone, I mindlessly scroll a bit, zoning out while I kill time.
About ten or fifteen minutes later, the guys rejoin me. My brother looks several shades paler than normal, his hand pressing to his stomach.
“Are you good?” I ask, trying to assess what’s happening.
Sweat lines his brow. “I think that hot dog was a mistake.”
“Shocker.” I scoff, but my eyes widen when Dylan’s cheeks inflate.
“Are you going to—” Gareth’s words are cut off when Dylan rushes past him and throws up in a nearby bush.
Sounds of his retching draw the attention of a few people passing by, whispering as they look over.
Handing Gareth my fish, I go rub my brother’s back while he upchucks everything in his system.
“You’re okay,” I coo. “Get it out, you’ll feel better.”
My words are an exact echo of what our mom has always said to us when we’ve gotten sick at home. Thankfully, I’m not one of those people who sympathy vomits, otherwise Gareth would have a real problem on his hands.
When my brother finally stops, he exhales a shaky breath and straightens, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “That was fucking nasty.”
“Learn your lesson about eating fair hot dogs?” Gareth asks, smacking Dylan against the shoulder.
“For now. I’m going to head home, though. My stomach isn’t right.” He glances over at Gareth, then at me. “Can you make sure Indy makes it back?”
His question hangs between the three of us. I’m surprised he suggested I stay since we obviously came together.
“Of course,” Gareth responds without hesitation.
“Alright, cool.” Dylan looks between us, wiping his forehead. He’s looking a little queasy again. “I’ll see you.”
He glances at Gareth again with a look that’s impenetrable—half-trusting, half-suspicious, like what happens tonight will tip the scales on how he looks at us both.
Like it’s a test.
Then he turns and disappears into the sea of people and neon lights.
His absence lingers, the air around us feeling different without him.
“I guess it’s just us,” I whisper, my heartbeat pounding in my ears.
“This feels like a test,” Gareth echoes my earlier thoughts. Our eyes meet, and I nod.
“It does,” I admit.
Now we just need to decide if we’re going to pass it.
“Well, let’s hang out for a while and have some fun. It’s barely eight.”
“Yeah, okay.” I look down at the ground, suddenly feeling shy now that Dylan isn’t here acting as a buffer.
For a while, we walk without a destination in mind, just soaking in the fair atmosphere, looking at the different rides and games.
Nearing the edge of the fairgrounds, the Ferris wheel looms ahead of us—the last ride before we’d have to turn around.
Gareth looks at it, then looks over at me. “Afraid of heights?”
I shake my head, then he grabs my wrist and tugs me toward the empty line queue.
Our timing is perfect, and the ride attendant holds the door open for us. I climb in first, and Gareth follows, pulling down our lap bar. Our knees knock together, and my cheeks heat at the brief contact.
As the Ferris wheel starts to rise, we get the full view of the fair. Twinkling lights, lively music, and laughter. The higher we go, the quieter it gets, until they stop us at the very top. It’s beautiful up here, but it takes mere seconds for the world to fade away.
I hold my breath as everything pauses.
Gareth turns to me, eyes slowly searching my face. “I feel like I’ve been waiting for this moment for years,” he says quietly.
“What moment?” My voice comes out throaty and unsteady.
“Us. Alone. Time together.”
I nod, and his hand comes up to my cheek. He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, the space between us slowly disappearing.
My eyes squeeze shut. Our foreheads press together, the car gently swaying us.
I want to live in this moment forever.
Gareth shifts closer, silently asking for permission. I don’t stop him. A current of electricity flares to life inside of me.
Our lips brush slightly, and he brings his hand to cup the back of my neck.
“We shouldn’t,” I breathe, wishing the words would have died on my tongue.
“I know,” he groans.
His lips brush mine again, catching them in the briefest of kisses.
“We’re failing his test,” I sigh against his lips.
“I know.”
Slanting his mouth over mine, he kisses me.
Gently at first, but as the Ferris wheel begins its descent, he deepens it. I lean into him, moving my mouth against his.
Gareth kisses me like he’s telling me a story, each movement meticulous and crafted into something uniquely designed for me.
He kisses me like he’s been waiting his whole life to.
The ride delivers us back to reality way too quickly, our car coming to a stop at the bottom, swaying lightly. Our foreheads rest together, breaths mingling.
I don’t want it to end.
I don’t have a choice.
My heart sinks.
“Welcome back,” the ride attendant greets with zero enthusiasm, grabbing the car so it stops rocking.
I’m not ready to go back to pretending like Gareth is just a friend—like he doesn’t hold my entire heart in the palm of his hand.
My hand finds his before he can lift the lap bar away from us. “Stay in this moment with me?” I plead. “For just a while longer?”
“Forever,” he promises softly, then glances at the ride attendant. “One more time around.”
There’s no line—no one interested in the most docile ride at the fair. The attendant nods.
And as the Ferris wheel starts its slow ascent, Gareth kisses me again.