He narrows his eyes. "You’re lying."
"Probably." The machine rises slowly, the seats tilting back as it climbs. He tries so hard not to look terrified. The drop comes. Full speed. Upside down.
"I HOPE YOU CHOKE ON YOUR OWN FUCKING BLOOD, GIOVANNI!"
I’m crying from laughter. He’s gripping the seat like a man betrayed by God Himself, and I feel my stomach ache.
The wind smacks us so hard his perfectly styled hair explodes in every direction.
Mine too, obviously. I swear I can see his soul lifting out of his body and waving us goodbye.
I’m fucking howling. I’m laughing so loud I’m probably ruining the audio for the entire ride. This serious, judgey little prince lets go of the bar just to stick his middle finger in my face. Right in front of my eyes.
And then he grabs the bar again like the grim reaper taps his shoulder. I almost fall off from laughing.
"YOU LIAR—YOU SON OF A BITCH—"
Every time I look at him, he’s just trying to glare at me with whatever dignity he has left.
"Rava," I choke out mid-spin, "your face—"
"OH IF I DIE I’M HAUNTING YOU."
"Please do."
Another drop. Another scream.
I swear, I have never felt more alive. Or more lucky to drag him here. We stumble off the ride like survivors.
Best ride of my life.
Rava nearly trips over the exit ramp. His hair is a complete mess, his face is flushed, and he’s breathing heavily. He looks like he just came back from a bar fight, not a carnival ride.
I can’t stop laughing.
He turns to me, hands flailing. "That was actual torture—"
"I told you it wasn’t bad."
"You lied! I felt my brain slide down into my fucking spine! I saw my ancestors, Gio."
I wipe my eyes, still wheezing. "Your ancestors think you’re dramatic."
"My ancestors think I should murder you."
I grin, walking backwards as he follows, still fuming. "Admit it. You had fun."
"I blacked out for a second. That’s not fun."
"You screamed so loudly. The kid next to you almost cried." "Gio, I was the kid next to me."
I laugh again, and the impossible happens again. He cracks. Just for a second. A small sound, almost like a snort, escapes him. I stop walking, raise an eyebrow.
He tries to straighten up, regain control.
"Shut up."
"You laughed."
