“I am keeping my feet on the ground where they belong.” Jenna argues.
“I would never take that baby on a ride that has scared us our entire lives. That little peanut is going to be well taken care of, babes.”
Grinning at her, I turn to rush towards the line. This is one of the reasons I agreed to a day at the fair. I had a fear I wanted to face down. My classes begin in just a few weeks. Before I go back to the grind, I want to have the best last summer of my young life—including facing some fears.
Standing in line, I bounce from foot to foot, my neon laces on my Reebok’s bouncing. I am terrified that I cannot cut it as a grown up. That all of my best days might be behind me. Jenna became an adult with ease—but she handles most things with ease. It inspired me to grow up a little myself.
“Debi! Oh my God it istotallyyou! Debi Hollis!”
Flushing, I turn to the young girl who stopped her friends to single me out. It does happen from time to time. I would not say we have fans, but I guess that is what you would call this girl. It’s blistering hot out and she has on leather biker shorts and a Purple Heart’s shirt tied at her hip, my face staring back at me.
“Hey, doll face. It is me. I am me. I love that shirt,” I gush, taking her hands as she shakes them at me, her feet bouncing as she loses it.
“Me too! Oh my...can you...can you sign it? I would die if you signed my shirt, Debi!”
“I mean, how about I sign it, and youdo notdie? How about that?”
“Yes!” Yanking at the fanny pack on her hip, her hand jangles with tons of metal bracelets as she fishes out a thick marker.
Grinning at her as I take it, even as my breathing accelerates as others watch us in confusion, I sign my name over my own face. That never gets old, I can’t lie. She thrusts her arm out, pleading with me to sign it too, so she can maybe get it tattooed. Never heard of someone doing that. I do it without hesitation, laughing with her as she gushes about my band.
“Will you be on tour this summer? I went to, like, seven shows last spring!”
“We might. We’re still figuring it out. I hope to see you, if we do!”
“Dude totally! Oh my God! You’re even prettier up close! I love you and I love Purple Hearts.”
“Well, you are a sweet face and that means absolutely everything!”
Rushing off with her friends, they’re talking excitedly about meeting me, about the band, and about our shows. It makes me feel good for a few moments. Until I see people still staring at me, wondering who I am. That is always a wakeup call. We might have fans or followers, but most of the world has no idea who Debi Hollis is or that Purple Hearts even exists.
“Not every day a girl meets her hero. That was very kind of you.”
Turning at the voice, I am prepared to be heckled or laughed at. I bite back a gasp as I face the handsome man smiling down at me. Glasses sit perched on a perfect nose, doing nothing to hide the beautiful crystal blue eyes behind them. A crooked smile tilts his perfect mouth and I just stare.
This guy is the total opposite of the sort of guy I date. Tall, big, skin golden from time in the sunshine, his thick, blonde hair shining and silky. In Polo and slacks, he stands out amongst the crowd in tank tops and shorts.
“Oh...well, you know...probably means more to me than it did to her.”
“No, that was pure adulation on her face.Whydoes she adore you?”
“Uh...what? Oh. Why does she...I am in a band. Just a local band, we do not have a lot to be excited about in Pine Grove,” I mutter, brushing it off.
“Don’t do that,” his voice is soft, patient, speaking just to me. “That was a special moment for her. We all saw that. Be kind to yourself, Debi.”
His soft voice, with a lilt I do not recognize, whispering my name feels very intimate. He even moves close, bending his head to catch my gaze. I cannot look away from his pretty eyes. It feels impossible. I move closer too, forgetting the hot sun beating down on us, the long line, and the loud crowds. For just a moment, it is just the two of us standing here.
“Even the score, handsome,” I pull some bravado out of nowhere. “You know my name...tell me yours.”
“Devin. Pleasure to meet you, Debi,” he murmurs, smiling softly.
“Want to ride with me, Devin?”
Devin’s face flushes as I turn it on high, grinning up at him as I flirt just a little. His head nods as he takes a step closer, eyes darting past me to the line. His hand touches the bare skin beneath my midriff top, and I bite back a little gasp. It feels as if I’ve been burned where he touched me.
“Yeah, Debi. I would love to ride with you. I am a little scared, never got the nerve to go on one of these before. Think you can hold my hand?”
“Only if you hold mine back.”
