“Caleb, stop, I was trying to make a joke. I’m horrible at jokes.” She tucked her card in her pocket and ran after him. “I’m an idiot. Big, fat idiot. Bad Emery. Bad.”
He stopped short and turned to her. “I never said she hated me. But now, I don’t know, maybe she does.”
“I take it all back. What do I know? I’ve never even met her.” Emery mimed eating her words, then locking her lips and tossing away the key. “The piehole is officially closed.”
Caleb stared at her, then broke with one of his grins. “For the rest of the day?” He plopped his arm on her shoulders. “Who am I going to talk to, Em?”
“Me. Only if you forgive me.” She wanted to hug him, butthat’d be weird. What if he pushed her away? “I’m an only child who talks to adults most of the time, which makes me a bit of a smarty-pants.”
“You’re forgiven,” he said with a soft sigh, staring toward the carnival rides. She wasn’t sure, but she thought he blinked away tears. “Cass was my first best friend. We were a close family, though she always tested the boundaries. Especially with Mom. But now—” He glanced down at her. “Want to find a ride? Get some food?”
“Again, I am so sorry.”
“Forget it.” He pulled her in, holding her so close she could hear his heartbeat beneath his Nickle High Eagles Football T-shirt. She hugged him back, breathing in his clean scent.
They moved on to the fun—hot dogs and sodas, a funnel cake and ice cream. Bellies full, they hopped on the carousel, knocked each other around in bumper cars—her side still hurt from laughing—and took a turn on the mechanical bull. She got tossed the moment the machine started. But Caleb hung on for the full eight seconds.
Onlookers cheered when the event staffer—also known as the ride jockey—rang a bell, blew an airhorn, and handed Caleb a cheap, aluminum belt buckle that saidChampion.
“What next, Champ?” she said, leaning against him as she admired the buckle. “Ferris wheel?”
“How about the pony ride over there?”
“For a bull-riding champion? No way, it’s the Ferris wheel or nothing.” She grabbed his arm and tried to drag him toward the line, but he remained planted. “What gives?”
“If you must know, rusty bolts holding up big, circular wheel is not my idea of fun. Plus, I don’t do heights.”
“You just rode a bull.”
“Yeah, a mechanical one.”
“Come on, please.” She grabbed his hand and leaned back, tugging. “It’ll be fun, I promise.”
“Emery, I’m serious. I can’t.” He freed himself and wiped his hand down his shorts. “Just thinking about it makes me—”
“You’re really scared?” She pointed to the giant wheel. “They wouldn’t run the thing if it wasn’t safe. And it’s not that high.”
“How do you know it’s safe? ’Cause a couple of dudes say so? No, no way. If that thing fell apart, we’d drop, what? Three hundred feet?”
“So are you worried about safety or heights?”
“Both.”
“Nope. One or the other. Like when your mom took you to the store as a kid and said you could only get one treat, but the Skittles and the M&Ms both called to you.”
“Quinn, this is noteventhe same.”
“I’m making it the same, Ransom. Is it safety or heights?” She braced herself for his answer, ready to counter.
“Well, I guess ... safety.”
“Perfect. Let’s go. The ride is safe or else the carnival would be buried in lawsuits.” She shoved him from behind this time. “Fears are meant to be overcome.”
“No fair, I don’t know your fear.”
“Guys who hate the Ferris wheel. Keep walking, Ransom.”
Finally. She got him to the line, but he shifted from side to side, cracked his knuckles, ran over to talk to a passing friend.
