Chapter 29 Are You A Sailor?
TANNER
Iwas so close to telling Wren how I felt about her when she grabbed my hands and looked me in the eyes, but I was so afraid that she’d reject me just like my dad did, so like a coward, I didn’t say a word.
Instead, I told her she was a good friend, and while she is, I want to be so much more than that with her.
The minute she left the apartment, I knew I had made a mistake because she’s right. I might think I’m not worth a shit because of my dad, but I think I might mean something to her.
I pull into the fairground parking lot, and it’s packed with people there for the event. I almost didn’t come because I wasn’t sure how I’d push away the feelings my dad left me with, but I know Wren will be here, and I want to be where she is.
Are you here
Wren :
Almost!
S.H.I.E.L.D.
Here
Logan:
We’re by the funnel cake stand.
I slide out of my car and head towards the front gate.
“Oh, and a man in uniform,” the middle-aged woman running the admission booth says when I walk up to her window. “Are you a sailor?”
“A seaman.” I smile, handing her my card and taking my wrist band.
She chuckles. “The wristband gives you unlimited rides all night and admission into the haunted house,” she explains, handing back my card.
“Thanks.” I scan the crowd, finding the bright yellow funnel cake stand about a hundred yards to my right.
Pushing through groups of people dressed in costumes, I quickly move over to where my friends are.
Logan is dressed like Clark Kent and is standing next to Poppy, who is dressed like Lois Lane.
His shirt is unbuttoned halfway, revealing the Superman logo on his T-shirt.
Jacks and Lacey are dressed like Bixito parrots, the bird Jacks re-discovered earlier this year.
Their costumes are bright purple and covered in feathers.
They look like they’re going to Carnival in Brazil.
Donovan and Enzo are both dressed in neon roller skating get-ups minus the roller skates.
“I see everyone did a couple’s costume,” I say, walking up to where they stand. “Who are you two supposed to be?” I ask Enzo.
“We’re Ken and Ken,” he laughs. “I wanted to wear roller skates, but my husband didn’t think they’d let us in.”
“Are you a sailor?” Lacey asks, eyeing my costume.
“I’m a seaman. Get it?” I smirk. “Like semen.”
“Oh, I get it,” she deadpans.
“Did you and Wren coordinate costumes?” Poppy asks.
“No, we kept our costumes a secret from one another,” I say. “Why?”
“Oh, I’m not giving away the surprise,” she giggles. “She should be here any minute and you can see for yourself.”
I nod, looking around the colorful fair. There’s a ferris wheel with multi-colored bucket-seats, a tilt-o-whirl, a swing ride, bumper cars, and half a dozen other attractions all adorned with bright lights and colors.
The air smells like fried food and sugar. Music being fed through a speaker competes with screams from the fair goers as the rides flip and drop.
The crowd parts, and Wren appears, dressed like a mermaid.
Time seems to still. Her red hair is wavy and falls around her shoulders.
She’s wearing a shiny green, flowy skirt that looks like a fin, and a purple corset top hugs her figure.
The light catches on blue and green jewels on either side of her eyes. She looks stunning.
Any remaining negativity I had from earlier melts away, and as far as I’m concerned, it’s just me and her in the world.
She smiles when our eyes meet, and I lift my hand in a wave. Time speeds up again, and she begins to move towards us. She greets the girls first and then stops in front of me.
“You okay?” she asks.
“Much better now,” I say. “Ready to have some fun.”
A wide grin spreads across her face. She wraps her arms around me, and I pull her close, breathing in the scent of her hair. Her body fits perfectly against mine, just like it did earlier tonight. We stay wrapped up in each other for a few long moments.
Logan clears his throat, causing Wren to pull away. I cut my eyes in his direction, and he gives me a questioning look that says, “What the fuck was that?”
“What do y’all want to do first?” Wren asks, turning to face the group.
“Logan said he was gonna win me one of those big stuffed animals,” Poppy says, leaning into her boyfriend. “Y’all want to go play some games?”
“We’re in,” Jacks says, grabbing Lacey’s hand.
“Y’all want to make it more interesting?” I ask.
“What did you have in mind, T?” Donovan asks.
“First person to win a stuffed animal gets to pick what we do next.”
“That sounds like fun,” Wren says, giggling. “I’m in.”
“You know I’m always up for a little friendly competition,” Logan says.
“Are there rules?” Lacey asks.
“Let’s keep it simple. First one to win a stuffed animal wins. Time starts now,” I yell, turning and running toward the row of brightly colored game booths.
“Tanner!” all three girls shout. I look over my shoulder and see all of my friends start sprinting after me. Wren catches up with me first.
“You’re going down, roomie,” she says. I slow my pace, and she shoots by me, heading straight for the milk jug ring toss.
Poppy, Logan, Jace, and Lacey stop at the water gun run.
Donovan and Enzo opt to pop balloons with darts at the balloon-a-rama booth.
Wren is collecting her rings when I run up next to her.
“You playing?” the carnival game worker asks.
“Yep,” I say. He hands me a stack of rings, and Wren cuts her eyes in my direction.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
“Thought you could use some friendly competition.”
“Don’t you dare distract me,” she warns, taking her time setting up her aim for one of the glass milk jugs. “I really want to ride the bumper cars next, and I’m not going to let you keep me from winning.”
“Can’t perform with an audience?” I ask, right as the ring leaves her hand. It bounces off a bottle and clatters to the ground.
“Stop it,” she says, flipping toward me, placing her hands on her hips.
“You see, I really want to ride the pirate ship, so I think I’m going to have to show you how it’s done.” I confidently throw a ring towards the bottles, and it ricochets off the glass and bounces back towards where we stand.
“Is that how it’s done?” she asks, giggling. “Because I thought the point was to get the ring on the bottle.”
“Ha! It’s harder than it looks,” I say, throwing another ring, but I miss again. “I’m just warming up. I’ll get it.”
“Oh, right. I was just warming up too,” she says, trying to toss another ring. She comes close, but doesn’t make it. “Shit, maybe we should have picked a different game.”
“Quitting already,” I tease.
“Never,” she says.
Ring after ring, we both attempt to hit our target and fail. I’m down to three rings, and it looks like Wren only has two left. I glance toward our friends, and it doesn’t look like anyone has lucked into a prize, so there’s still time. We both toss a ring at the same time, and they bounce off.
“Dammit,” she curses. I watch as she moves her feet and attempts to get into the perfect ring tossing stance. She carefully aims for a bottle in the front and misses.
“Better luck next time,” the booth worker says. “Want to play again?”
“No,” she says, disappointed. “I think I’m gonna go try the balloon-a-rama game with Donovan and Enzo. Want to come?” She looks at me.
“You aren’t gonna watch me win?” I ask. “I have two more rings.”
“You could have fifty more rings, and there is no way you’d win,” she taunts. “I’m pretty sure it’s rigged so that no one wins.”
The worker behind the booth snickers at her statement.
“Come on, have a little faith ,” I say, throwing a ring. It circles the rim of the jug, and then bounces off.
“See. It’s impossible,” she says. “Let’s go play something else.”
“Which one is your favorite?” I ask as she turns to walk away.
“What?” she asks, looking over her shoulder.
“Which stuffed animal is your favorite?” I glance up at the rows of stuffed animals and toys lining the ceiling of the booth.
“What does that matter?” she asks.
“I’m just wondering. Indulge me.”
“Um…” She looks up at the display of prizes. “I guess the unicorn or, no, the cheetah,” she says, pointing to a little yellow cheetah hanging from the top of the booth. “Yeah, I like her.”
Rocking back and forth, I extend my arm in a practicing motion, lining up my aim. I toss the ring, and it connects with the bottle, slipping around the neck.
“No way!” she exclaims. “You won!”
“Winner!” the operator yells, ringing a loud bell.
“I’ll take the cheetah,” I say, pointing to the one Wren liked. He grabs it down with a long hook and hands it to me.
“Here you go,” I say, putting my arm out to hand it to her.
“You won me the cheetah?” she smiles. “Now I feel like I should win you a dog.”
“Well, you did say you liked it.” I flash her grin, and she takes it from me.
“Thank you.”
“What are you going to name her?”
“Goldie.”
“Perfect.” I smile, slinging my arm around her shoulders. “Come on, I need to gloat that I won the bet, and we have bumper cars to ride.”