Chapter 62 The Fair
The Fair
The fair was set up in a large paddock on the outskirts of town. It was a buzzing hive of activity. People of all ages wandered around, laughter and screams of delight echoed through the night. Teenagers walked hand in hand, eating doughnuts and hot dogs.
A breeze had lifted from the mountains and brought with it a chill, uncharacteristic for this time of year.
It explained the cold I felt earlier on the balcony.
I was glad I’d listened to Karson, and donned a jacket.
He had his arm linked through mine, which was both old-fashioned and charming.
We wandered aimlessly for an hour or more.
A few people greeted him enthusiastically, mainly females, and I was awarded a few sharp looks.
“No, do not even consider it,” Karson said, following my eyes as they honed in on a ride which shot up in the air and spun wildly, whipping people like rag dolls against the sides of the carriage. It looked like fun.
“Don’t tell me you’re you scared?” I mocked him.
“Do not push your luck.” He pulled his arm out and wrapped it around my shoulders. I leaned into his warmth, breathing in his scent, feeling blissfully happy.
“Okay, you pick one then,” I conceded.
He focused on the Ferris Wheel. “That one.”
“Oh, no.” I shook my head, suddenly feeling nervous. “Any ride but that one.”
“Are you scared of heights, Amelia?”
“No,” I lied.
He threw an eyebrow up.
“Technically, I’m scared of falling,” I muttered.
He smiled widely, his white teeth flashing in the night.
He directed me towards the yellow stall.
He handed over the money. The boy, who looked about the same age as the kid chaining people into the rickety ride, about sixteen, chomped loudly on gum.
He placed the tickets on the counter. Dirt stained the rivets in his fingers like etchings in a pharaoh’s tomb. He didn’t make eye contact.
We stepped into the carriage. It rocked and made a cracking sound as we sat down, like its bones had just snapped. The boy, who I deemed couldn’t possibly be highly trained, clicked a chain across us, it looked like it’d be more at home on the neck of a chihuahua. I felt my stomach tighten.
“You might enjoy the ride a little more if you breathe,” Karson said, as he wrapped his arm around my shoulders. I glared at him and sucked a breath in through my teeth. The carriage groaned as if protesting our weight and, with a jerk, it orbited upwards. My heart began to race.
“So, you’re scared of the dark and heights, but not vampires? Makes perfect sense.”
“Stop it,” I growled.
“I will not let you fall.”
We began to rise in the air, my stomach bunched up, twirled, and knotted.
“If the carriage falls, I’m not sure how you could stop it,” I said anxiously, as we rose even higher.
If we fell now I’d break a bone. Or ten.
I squeezed my eyes closed and took a few deeps breaths.
I heard him chuckle. I opened my eyes and stared at the denim of my jeans, like it was whispering some kind of universal secret to me.
If I didn’t look, I figured I could forget about the height.
“I’d leap out with you in my arms before we ever hit the ground,” he answered.
“Like this.” Before I knew what was happening, he had his arm under my legs and was lifting me up off the seat.
The carriage rocked and groaned. I let out a horrified squeal, clutching my fingernails into his waist as the carriage jolted to a stop to let someone else on.
We swayed precariously back and forth. He lowered me back down and laughed.
“You’re not funny,” I snapped, feeling a mixture of apprehension and nerves, and also a web of excitement in the pit of my stomach.
We lurched upwards again. My belly see-sawed, my fingers clasped so tightly to his thigh they were stark white.
My other hand tightened like a vice around the white steel frame.
When we rose to the top, the carriage halted and swayed back and forth, back and forth.
My heart pumped and my breath came out fast and shallow. I thought I might hyperventilate.
“Amelia, look over there.” His voice was silken and calm. I followed his gaze out to the treetops in the distance, the moon’s halo capturing the tops of their outline against the pitch of the night sky. A thousand tiny stars speckled in the background and expanded as far as the eye could see.
“It’s beautiful,” I said.
“I could not agree more.”
There was a huskiness to his voice that made me look at him.
He wasn’t looking at the stars. He was looking at me.
His eyes smoked in the dark, he was serene and devastatingly handsome.
Our lips caressed, and I forgot about the height we were at, the people below.
There was no noise but the pulse of my blood in my head.
The carriage churned forward and jolted me back to reality.
His lips left mine and I felt giddy, whether it was from the kiss or the height, I didn’t know.
It stopped again just a few metres forward.
Up there with the heaven-born diamonds that sparkled against black velvet like a perfectly designed background from Aphrodite, I almost told him I loved him.
The words formed in my mind, moved to my mouth and got stuck against the back of my teeth.
The cognitive part of my mind shunted away from revealing the truth.
The trepidation of an unfavorable response transcended the deepest of my desires.
Maybe one day soon, I’d tell him I loved him, and maybe, just maybe, he’d respond in like.
“It’s not so bad, is it?” he asked, as I relaxed a little under his hold.
“Not too bad at all.” I peered up at him, holding his hand rested on my shoulder. “The ride’s okay too,” I added.
He smiled and snuck in a kiss on my cheek as the boy opened the chain for us at the bottom with a crooked grin.