32. Fairgrounds
FAIRGROUNDS
“Your turn,” I grinned as I reached for my backpack. “I got you something too.”
Charlie’s eyes flickered with curiosity, a teasing smile curling on her lips. “A costume?” she asked, voice tinged with playful skepticism.
“Well…” I pulled out a sleek black shopping bag, my heart pounding. “It’s more of an outfit.”
My hands steady slightly as I revealed the pieces: a fitted black off-the-shoulder top, skin-tight black pants that hugged every curve, a bold wide cinch belt, and a pair of fiery red heels that screamed confidence. Her gaze lingered on the clothes, then shifted back to me, wide-eyed and unsure.
“Seriously?” she asked, voice thick with disbelief.
I chuckled, warmth flooding my chest. “Trust me.”
“You want me dressed like…” she hesitated, voice uncertain, anticipation almost tangible.
“The end of Grease,” I finished for her, my eyes shining with hope. “Tell me you wouldn’t absolutely own it.”
A soft, fleeting smile played on her lips, like she was lost in a dream—maybe recalling that iconic scene, or maybe imagining herself in that fierce moment. She clutched the outfit to her chest with a tender vulnerability.
“You’ve got the attitude for it,” I teased, laughter bubbling up. “Besides, everyone always remembers Sandy at the end.”
Charlie disappeared down the hallway, and I stood there, cheeks heating with nervous anticipation, waiting for her return. Did she hate it? My mind raced as I wandered around the kitchen and moved into the living room, every second feeling like eternity.
And then she reappeared. My jaw nearly hit the floor.
She adjusted the off-shoulder top to sit perfectly, her makeup meticulously crafted to mirror Sandy’s iconic look.
But the real magic? The tattoos winding around her neck, giving her an astonishingly gorgeous badass vibe that made her even more mesmerizing.
My sunflower necklace, hidden gently beneath her shirt so only the tiniest glimpse of it peered out, held a world of meaning.
My fingers, almost involuntarily, reached toward her lighter, nestled safely in my pocket—an unyielding reminder of everything I couldn’t always find the words to say, yet everything I held close to my heart.
“Say something,” she teased, flashing me a playful, confident smile.
And I couldn’t help myself—I grinned behind the mask, heart pounding. “You look absolutely stunning,” I declared, everything else fading away in awe of her.
I grabbed my keys and Charlie turned off the lights in the rest of the house. She silently cursed when she noticed the lack of pockets in her pants and I grabbed her things, stuffing them in mine.
“Wait,” I stopped her before she could open the door. “One picture.”
Charlie rolled her eyes but wrapped a hand around my waist. We smiled as I snapped the photo and immediately made it my lock screen.
Charlie laughed, swatting me on the butt as I walked towards my car. She locked up and joined me in the passenger seat as I pulled the mask off, setting it between us.
“The fair grounds aren’t far, just on the edge of town,” I smiled, pulling out of the driveway.
Bright orange and black lights stretched across the fairgrounds, reflecting off my mask every time I turned my head. Behind the lenses, the world felt strangely quieter, like I could disappear into the costume while Charlie's hand remained wrapped tightly around mine.
Suddenly, a swarm of tiny kids rushed up, their eyes sparkling with admiration, asking for photos because my mask was “so cool.” I couldn’t help but chuckle, feeling a rush of warmth at their innocence.
Charlie, ever so gentle, leaned down and snapped photos of us, their faces lit with delight.
The kids ran off towards the cotton candy stand, leaving behind whispers of sugar and innocence as scare workers leapt out unexpectedly, igniting jumpscares that made us both jump and laugh wildly.
Then, Charlie’s eyes lit up at the sight of a shoot-the-duck game, and she took my hand pulling us toward it with an unstoppable energy.
She must have spent a fortune on it, her determination unwavering.
Finally, victorious, she handed me a massive, fluffy bear that seemed to carry the weight of her love.
I shook my head, laughter spilling out, as I tucked the giant between my arms, feeling its fluff against my heart.
We drifted from stall to stall, our senses alive with the scent of sweet funnel cake, our eyes alight with the promise of thrill.
That’s when I saw it — a spinning alien ride, wild and vibrant, calling to the reckless in us.
I reached out, grabbing Charlie’s hand with a sparkle of mischief in my eye.
“Come on, it’ll be fun,” I smiled excitedly pulling my mask back over my face.
She laughed, a mixture of dread and thrill, “I hate spinning rides,” but her voice was infused with trust. With a grin, I dragged her into a standing stall, igniting a wave of adrenaline.
The crazy loop of colors and lights blurred around us as the ride spun faster, faster, until our bodies pressed against the walls beneath the centrifugal force.
We howled with laughter, our bodies vibrating in a wild, joyous chaos.
When the ride finally creaked to a halt, Charlie, dizzy and breathless, clung to me as if holding onto the moment.
Laughter burst from us like a dam breaking, pure and unrestrained, as we staggered off the ride, our bodies still rewired from the dizzying spectacle.
Until at last, our senses recalibrated, and we found ourselves standing on solid ground, hearts racing and spirits soaring, united by the wild, unforgettable magic of the fair.
A young kid from high school sprinted toward us, his arms splattered with vivid streaks of red and blue paint, his fingers clutching another colorful arm band.
My heart pounded as I turned to Charlie, a mix of curiosity and anticipation pounding through me.
“Did you sign us up for the games?” I asked with a rush of adrenaline.
She shrugged playfully, her laughter ringing in the air. “Thought it would be interesting,” she said, eyes sparkling with mischief, “and it looks like I was right.” A thrill shot through me at her daring smile.
“Do you even know the rules?” I teased, reaching out to gently grab the kid before he could dart away into the chaos. My mind raced with excitement, pulse quickening. “Where’s the starting point?”
He looked around frantically before pointing toward a cluster of warehouses, “Behind the Ferris wheel,” he whispered, eyes wide with innocence and adventure. In that fleeting moment, he vanished into the shadows, leaving Charlie and I to press forward toward the unknown.
“So, what are the rules?” Charlie practically bounced, her energy contagious as we moved.
“Blue means prey, red means predator,” I explained softly, a grin spreading across my face as I looked at the blue streak across her arm, glowing fiercely under the neon lights as we ventured deeper into the maze of the night.
“Oh, and what happens if you catch me?” she asked, her voice playful but filled with daring excitement, eyes gleaming with challenge.
“Hunter’s choice,” I purred, my breath catching as echoes of last year’s chaos flooded my mind—playing in a maze of corn, no corner safe, the wild thumping of music drowning out the sounds of the chase.
The thrill of the hunt, the rush of possibility, pulsing through every heartbeat—the game was alive, and I was ready to dive into it all again.