Chapter 27
Ava
Seizures definitely sucked.
My headache eased as we waited in line for the Ferris wheel. The blinking lights set at intervals on the giant circle made my heart race with anxiety, but these were obviously something my broken brain could handle.
Unlike that strobe.
Now I knew what Superman felt like. Strobes were my Kryptonite. Anybody could bring me down with them. Tucker had covered my eyes, but what if I got a good hard dose? Would the medicine still help?
I’d have to ask the doctor.
By the time we loaded into a seat that rocked back and forth, a long belt buckled over our laps, my head felt better. The night was crisp, and as we rose in steady increments into the sky, I snuggled closer to Tucker.
He liked this and put his arm around me to pull me tight.
My chest loosened, and my shoulders relaxed. I had no idea I’d been holding myself so stiffly until this moment. Had I been this way since my escape?
Probably so.
We made it to the tippy top, and the wheel stopped again to load another couple.
Up here, the air felt clear, and despite the garish lights below, a star or two peeped between the clouds. We leaned back, and the seat rocked gently as we stared into the night.
“I hear the stars have names,” I said. “If I ever knew them, they’ve long been erased.”
Tucker extended an arm to point above us. “The star most people talk about is the North Star. It’s used for navigation. It’s bright enough to see even in tough conditions.”
“Like sitting on top of a carnival?”
“Like that.”
One other bright ball stood out. I pointed to it. “What’s that star?”
“It’s actually not a star at all. It’s a planet. Venus.”
“So planets glow too?”
“No, we’re seeing a reflection of our sun’s light on its atmosphere.”
“You’re speaking Greek.”
“The atmosphere is made of the gases surrounding a planet.”
I sighed. “I don’t even know what I don’t know.”
Tucker turned to me, his eyes reflecting the shifting colors of the neon bar attached to the wheel. “You don’t have to know everything to enjoy the stars.”
I wiggled down in the seat to make it easier to stare up. The Ferris wheel moved another slot, and now we were one position past the top. “I don’t feel anything when I look at the stars, so maybe I never learned much about them.”
“I can’t imagine your mother pointing them out.”
“You met her?”
“Sure. In the hospital. She tried to get me kicked out. Then the night she had me arrested.”
“Oh, right. She definitely doesn’t love you.”
“Now that’s an understatement.”
I pulled the bear closer to me. “Do you know anything else about my dad? I didn’t read about the bear in any of my notes. Not even in yours.”
“I’m sorry I left it out. But you used to have a note about him. His name was Marcus, I think.”
“Yes, Marcus Anthony Roberts. He’s on my birth certificate.”
“You only mentioned the bear. Sometimes when you’d hear a sad song, you’d say that maybe you sensed how it felt when he left.”
I squeezed the bear more tightly. “Do you think he sent other things that Mother kept from me?”
“Probably. That was the only thing you caught, or at least the only one you wrote a note to yourself about.”
“Or at least a note she didn’t destroy.”
“That, too.” He shook his head. “She’s a piece of work.”
“She doesn’t have a job. How does she get money to rent the house or buy food?”
“Sounds like your dad paid child support.”
I sat up suddenly, causing the chair to rock. “You mean my dad has been involved all along?”
“Unless your mom was independently wealthy. Did she ever go to the bank?”
“No. We passed one on the way to the store, but we never stopped.”
“Did you see where her money came from?”
I thought for a moment. “We sometimes went to the counter at the grocery store and she passed the man a piece of paper. He gave her cash. I guess that was a check. It wasn’t a paycheck, like I get now, with typed numbers. It was handwritten. So I guess it was a check from Dad?”
“Sounds like it.”
“So, he didn’t abandon me.”
Tucker reached for my hand and squeezed it. “Have you searched for him?”
His hand was warm on mine, so I kept it there. “Sure. He lives in Houston.”
“Are you going to contact him?”
“Why? He ditched me.”
“Maybe your mother lied to him, too.”
Had she? Could he have wanted me all this time?
The wheel moved again, but this time it did not stop, picking up speed. We reached the bottom, and it began another ascent. I clutched Tucker’s hand. “Is it supposed to do this?”
He squeezed my fingers. “Yes, once it’s loaded all the passengers.”
The breeze from our movement ruffled Tucker’s hair and sent wispy bits of my own into my face. I pushed them back and caught Tucker watching me. “You okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine. It’s kind of a rush. Not wild like the other rides. But still a rush.”
“We’re up pretty high. You feel exposed sitting in a seat like this.”
He lifted our joined hands to his lips and pressed a soft kiss onto my knuckles. “Headache gone?”
I nodded. “You get them a lot, right?”
“Not at the moment. My life is about as perfect as it gets.”
Our eyes held. The wind rushed against us, the seat shifting forward and back as we made the circle again. The noise of the crowd grew as we reached the bottom, then faded as we rose into the sky.
I didn’t know where to look, what to think, how to feel. The night was perfect and beautiful. Tucker was warm and close. He’d protected me. But my life was no different from what it had been when I first turned him down.
I was a walking disaster. He’d seen it first-hand when we met, and again tonight.
The Ferris wheel slowed down and soon it stopped, beginning the process of letting riders off and loading the next.
Tucker squeezed my hand. “Ava, I’m so glad you came here with me. I’m sorry I didn’t think about the strobe.”
I leaned my head on his shoulder. “No, no. It’s fine. You helped me. I hadn’t even known strobes existed. Now I know to avoid them.”
“I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you again.”
“You saw me seize. But… doesn’t it happen to you?”
“It’s different. I don’t lose my memory. But also, it’s only minor ones. They add up to the headaches, though.”
“You can’t take medicine like I do?”
He huffed out a breath. “I’ve taken most of them. My version of epilepsy isn’t as treatable as yours.”
“I guess they both suck in their own way.”
He brought my hand to his lips again. “But we’re here.”
The wheel shifted to another slot. Soon we’d be escorted off. I didn’t want this part of the night to end.
“Tucker…” But as soon as I said it, my confidence fled. I had to glance away.
He held my hand to his lips. “You okay?”
“I’m sorry I was so harsh when you first started coming around. I didn’t know.” Well, I had. But I’d wanted to avoid the messy feelings.
“I knew there was a risk that you would have forgotten me. I was willing to work hard to get you back.”
We dropped another slot. Only three now until we would get off.
“Why? What’s so special about me?”
“Everything. I’ve known it since the day in the disco room.”
“But what is it about us?”
He sat back against the wooden seat. “I’m braver and stronger when I’m near you. I plan ahead. I dream again. My condition becomes just a part of me. I think—nothing can be all bad when I’m with Ava.”
Wow. “I guess you’re going to kiss me, then?”
Tucker grinned. “It’s been a long time since I’ve gotten to do that.”
“I’m not sure I know what I’m doing. Obviously, we’ve kissed before. But I don’t exactly remember how.”
“I like getting to be your first kiss all over again.”
“Well, get it over with. I want to catch up.” I’d seen movies. I knew what to do. I closed my eyes and tilted up my chin, waiting.
For a moment, nothing happened. I was about to open my eyes when Tucker released my hand and drew me closer to him.
When his lips met mine, I almost gasped at the rush of emotion that poured forth. Tears sprung to the corners of my eyes. My belly warmed over. And a deep sense of contentment washed over my entire body.
I relaxed against him, and my lips parted. Our kiss went deeper, our mouths remembering each other in ways I couldn’t have predicted. I clutched the collar of his shirt, wanting him closer. A new, unexpected need shot through me like stars bursting into shimmering sparks.
The wheel lurched forward, and a low voice said, “Step to your right!”
We were at the bottom. Tucker’s eyes met mine. “We’re back,” he said.
I didn’t know if he meant back to the bottom, or back together, or back to where we should have been.
I could only say, “Yes, we are.”