Seven #2
Taking a breath, I head in the direction he indicates and hand over my coat and hat to someone waiting just inside the next set of doors as I look around.
It’s… incredible. There is an indoor carnival all themed with snow and maybe Valentine’s Day.
A little early, but that’s okay. Before I can walk away, I’m handed a thick envelope.
“Zak!”
Turning at my aunt’s voice, I grin widely.
It feels almost like a corny rom-com when we run to each other and hug as if we haven’t seen each other in years; even though it’s only been a month or so.
“Oh, my darling, look at you!” She sandwiches my face with her hands on my cheeks. “Thank you so much for coming.”
“Of course, Auntie.”
“Oh, good. You got the envelope. I wasn’t sure what the lines would be for tickets, so when I saw the option to pre-purchase tickets, I jumped on that.” She smiles widely and I’m pretty sure that’s not the entire truth. “The food is free. All the snacks. The rides and games and stuff cost tickets.”
I nod. “Thanks, Auntie. Just so I’m aware, what is this for? A charity or something?”
“Yes, yes. It’s something you’ll like. I forget the name of it because I think it’s had a couple names, but it’s to create safe spaces throughout the city for LGBTQIA+ youth.”
Warmth touches my chest and tears sting my eyes. “That’s a great one,” I say, my voice quiet.
She hugs me again and this time it lingers for a minute while I try to pull myself together.
I’ve been lucky in one sense. I didn’t have a bad childhood because of my sexuality.
There was no bullying, no being picked on, no isolation.
Since I never came out to my family before they vanished, I didn’t think it could be that which made them abandon me.
But since making it a known fact at sixteen to everyone in my life, my aunt has turned all of her charity work and giving to something having to do with LGBTQIA+ rights and safety. It means the world to me to have her support.
“Okay. Go mingle. Don’t you dare leave without saying goodbye.”
“Never,” I promise. And I mean it.
I glance down at what I’m wearing and then around the large space at everyone else. I’m in white leggings and a knitted sweater. Of course, it’s not something that I just bought. I can’t remember the last time I wore something simply off the rack. There are little bits of me improving these pieces.
It’s something I do to busy myself at my friends’ houses. They all have closets filled with clothes and boxes filled with fabric, lace, buttons, zippers, whatever. It’s how I tell myself I’m earning the roof over my head and the food they feed me.
Around the room, there are games and silly rides. Some of which I’m certain shouldn’t be indoors. I glance at the ceiling, amazed to see it’s so high. I wonder if this entire building is just this room. There’s even a carousel.
I stop first at a mirror maze and hand over a ticket. As soon as I’m inside and faced with dozens of reflections of myself, I regret my decision. I’m not just staring at my face. I see everything that I hate about myself.
Bowing my head, I watch the ground and find my way out by following the walls. Ugh. Mirrors.
Someone offers me a cookie from their tray as they pass.
I smile as I accept one. Seriously, is there anything better than a sugar cookie?
It’s in the shape of a heart with wonderful icing and a bit of the round sprinkles I love.
I’m used to them really crunching in my mouth, being hard to the point you think they’re going to crack your teeth.
But these are soft and practically melt.
They’re wonderful.
I’m so thoroughly enjoying it that I don’t see the body I slam into until I’m stumbling backwards. My cookie crumbles and falls to the ground as hands grab me and pull me upright, bringing my face into his chest.
I take a breath and everything inside me lights up. I know that smell. Holy fuck.
My head tilts up and I come face to face with Owen Vincent. My jaw drops.
“Zak,” he says. His voice sounds like a sigh of relief. It makes my stomach flutter.
“Let me get that for you,” someone else says and I practically jump backwards as a woman crouches down with a dustpan and little broom.
“No, I can clean it,” I say quietly. “I’m so sorry. I?—”
“It’s really okay,” she says.
“But I?—”
Owen pulls me a step away and smiles at the woman. “Thank you.”
She grins up and nods as Owen pulls me away. “It was an accident and she’s getting paid. Quite well, I assure you.”
“How do you know that?” I ask, glancing back at her.
“This is a family run event. I’m family, of sorts.”
My eyes widen as I stare at him and then look around again.
Owen chuckles. “My stepbrother’s father hosts this event.
Whenever there’s something close to where I’m located, I get the invitation.
They’re kind people. Very generous. They always give to causes I support and admire.
So if I’m in town and available, I attend. ”
“Oh,” I say. We stare at each other for a minute.
“You didn’t call me,” he says and I wince. “It’s okay if you’re not interested, Zak.”
“No,” I say quickly. “I am.” My cheeks heat. Fuck’s sake. “I just… I still don’t have a phone.” It’s lame, but it’s the truth. I do have his number tucked safely away with his hoodie and beanie.
“So you are interested,” Owen says, a smile making the corners of his lips quirk.
Yes. So fucking much. But that doesn’t really matter. I’m not like him. I’m not from this world. Except I’ve let him believe twice now that I am. Once by being at the New Year’s Eve party for the rich and famous. And now at a wealthy man’s charity carnival.
“My aunt invited me here,” I say quickly. “I’m her plus one. Or… something.”
Owen cocks his head to the side, a smile playing on his lips. “Okay, good. I’m glad you’re here.”
Sighing, I let my shoulders sag. “Me too,” I say, because that’s the truth. I’ve done everything I could not to think about Owen Vincent since leaving his condo that day, knowing that I’d never be in a place to run into him again. Yet here he is.
Yeah, I’m glad I’m here too.