Chapter Thirty-Six – A.J. #2
We reach our second last stop before lunch, the Seven Dwarfs Mine Train, and Alexandra walks in front of me, reading signs as if she’s deciphering a treasure map.
It seems like nothing can pull her out of this state of euphoria.
But as we sit down on the ride, she points to two girls, no older than ten, still in line, looking at us in awe with their phones in hand, and kisses my cheek, posing for their photo.
And that’s the one ache I can’t shake today, because every couple that walks past us feels like a mirror held up to what we almost are.
We’re smiling, we’re laughing, we’re even holding hands…
but what I want with Alexandra is something I’ll never be able to reach.
And knowing that hurts more than I ever expected.
“Our next stop is the Pirates of the Caribbean restaurant!” Her excited voice reaches my ears, and I realize the ride has already stopped. “What’s up? Were you scared of that?” Alex teases, eyeing the cart of this totally non-scary, super kid-friendly roller coaster.
“Of course not, girl,” I say dismissively while helping her out of the ride. “And you, miss, better eat something real now, okay? I saw you barely ate anything at breakfast.”
I drape my arm around her shoulders, supporting her as she grumbles while I kiss her hair, remembering that if her friendship is all I have, it should also be everything I ever need.
***
“How can you have never seen The Little Mermaid?” Alexandra glares at me, outraged, as we enter our first ride of the afternoon. “I hope after today, you get some shame,” she reprimands me before we get into the shell.
I’ve never seen The Little Mermaid, so nothing about this ride should be that exciting, but Alexandra knows every scene by heart.
As soon as the attraction starts, she whispers that the red-haired girl is Ariel, which is a little insulting because I already know that.
The soundtrack changes, and Alex, excited, says the regent crab’s name is Sebastian, and he’s singing “Under the Sea” with the other fish.
Then we pass the statue of a guy — apparently the prince — and she explains that it’s Eric, and that King Triton, Ariel’s father, destroys that statue out of anger.
Finally, we face Ursula, and I know who she is too, and the scene shifts again, showing Ariel with human legs, smiling.
Alexandra lets out a quiet sigh, as if that’s the best part.
“Look at her legs!” Alexandra practically yells, surprised.
“They’re very nice legs.”
“Stop checking out the doll, Anthony.” Alexandra gives me a slap.
“It was just a compliment. But we can add this to the list of animations we still need to watch.”
“Along with Beauty and the Beast and Aladdin…” she counts on her fingers with a concentrated expression as we exit the ride.
Holding her hand, we walk away from the attraction, giving way to an excited and smiling couple.
Our next stop is the Town Square Theater. No matter your age, or how many times you’ve been here: seeing Mickey is the biggest event. My heart skips a beat, and Alex grips my hand so tightly my fingers hurt — but I don’t even think about letting go.
It’s as if the children we once were, raised in completely different worlds, meet in the same place. We strike silly poses, laugh like two teenagers, and I feel my heart race with the same childish excitement you get when you experience something for the first time.
It’s strange. It’s perfect. And it’s so us.
As we leave, I see the Walt Disney World Railroad train passing slowly, and I just point.
She understands immediately, smiling as if the ride were the cherry on top.
We sit side by side, our shoulders brushing, and let the world pass by around us.
The cold wind hits our faces, the sky begins to turn shades of purple and orange.
And here, in the comfortable silence between one station and another, I have one certainty: what makes this place magical isn’t the castles or the characters , it’s her.
***
Alexandra gave up visiting two rides to get here earlier and secure a spot right by the fence in front of the castle. She’s silent, not from exhaustion, but from anticipation. I pull my phone out of my pocket and finally read Victor’s reply to my email. I can’t help but smile.
He can be a jerk when he wants to — and most of the time, he does. But he’s also smart enough to recognize talent when he sees it. So reading that he can’t do anything but knows who can is a sign that things are moving in the right direction.
Rick: I’m loving watching the couple… Every photo I see, you guys are holding hands.
Sent just before lunch.
Guilherme: I can’t believe you chipped away at Alexandra ’s stone heart.
Guilherme: Am I the only one who didn’t see that coming?
Thomas: Yes, Gui, just you.
I chuckle, drawing Alexandra ’s attention, and tell her it’s just the boys being silly. I almost consider replying with something witty, but there’s nothing going on. Not really.
Rick: We can see when messages are read, A.J.
Me: If there was something to tell, I would’ve told you already.
I hit send, locking the phone screen.
The sky starts to darken, painted in shades of pink, purple, and gold.
The late afternoon light reflects off the metallic balloons that dance above the families scattered along Main Street — blankets on the ground, kids on their parents’ shoulders, blinking lights on Disney tiaras and T-shirts.
It feels like, just like Alexandra, the whole park is holding its breath.
The castle starts to transform before our eyes: first with soft glows, then with dancing lights.
A voice in the background announces the beginning of the night, and the projection takes over the facade.
The castle becomes a canvas for stories: Simba running through the savannah, Moana defying the ocean, Rapunzel spinning with her hair lit by the lantern rising, and Alexandra squeezes my hand, as if every character is a piece of her childhood lighting up right there again.
Standing beside me, she doesn’t blink. Her face lit by the lights of the show, her chin slightly lifted, her eyes wide, full of expectation…
The wind picks up, and I adjust her coat over her shoulders, knowing she hasn’t even noticed the cold.
Because everything here — the sound, the light, the smells, the details — feels like it’s been made to touch something deep within us.
And I get it. I get what she’s always tried to show me with every movie, every song, and every silly animation theory.
When the first fireworks crack through the sky, sharp, loud, and full of color, she leans into me, gently tugging my arms around her waist. She holds me close without looking away from the spectacle in front of us.
I hold her tighter, suddenly aware that I’m holding the most precious thing I’ve ever touched. And I don’t ever want to let her go.
She stays pressed against me, her body soft and steady, but alive with emotion.
Above the castle, bursts of color light up the sky, shades I don’t even have names for, each one dancing in sync with the music.
A Whole New World, Let It Go, Circle of Life…
songs that shaped who she is, now wrapping around us like a lullaby written for this exact moment.
She only steps back when the last spark fades from the sky. I wipe the tear slipping down her right cheek. Her eyes are red, like she spent the entire show quietly falling apart in the best way.
“That was so precious, A.J…” she says, her voice quiet. “I felt my chest tightening with every note, like part of me was being rewritten in that moment. A lighter, more whole, happier version.”
“Thank you for letting me watch this from the best seat in the house.”
I swallow hard, trying not to cry.
I swallow her words and fight the sting in my eyes. This place, the light in her face, and the quiet truth that she’s willing to dream again... It all scrapes against my throat.
“When I asked what you wanted to do today, my only goal was to give you a nice time,” I say, brushing my hand over her cheek. “But I think we got way more than that.”
“It’s the best day of my life, Anthony Fortin,” Alexandra shouts, throwing herself into my arms, making me blush. “What can I do to make you as happy as I am right now? Tell me, I’d do anything.” She smiles, happy and unaware of the effect those words have on me.
My heart stumbles, because there isn’t much to say.
I hold her face in both hands, her skin cool and soft under my fingers.
She tilts her chin up slowly, lips parted, her eyes carrying the same spark of longing they did that first time.
I lean in, and she rises on tiptoe, just as breathless as I am.
Her fingers graze the back of my neck, pulling me closer, telling me she knows the answer, and she wants this too.
Her breath mingles with mine, lips just a breath apart. But the crowd around us reminds me that, even if it feels like we’re the only two people on Earth, we’re not. And one photo – just one – could turn this entire day into a nightmare that I can’t protect her from.
So I lower her head and press my lips to her forehead.
“You’ve already done everything,” I murmur, holding her close. “You already make me happy enough.”
Alexandra looks around, slowly realizing why I didn’t kiss her.
“Anthony.” My name leaves her lips like a flame, setting me on fire from head to toe.
“What is it?”
“I’m sleeping in your room tonight,” she says, eyes darker, sultrier than I’ve ever seen them. And that’s when it hits me: Disney is truly magical.