Past
“Linc, I’m scared,” I whine as he drags me closer to the ominous contraption.
“It’ll be fine. I’ll be with you the whole time.”
“Yeah, I don’t think that’s gonna keep me from throwin’ my guts up.” I try to tug my hand from his, fear clawing at my chest, but he only grips it tighter.
Spinning to face me, he brings his free hand to my shoulder. “Listen to me, you can do this. It’s all in your head.”
“I’ve been afraid of heights since birth. Please, let’s go ride the tilt-a-whirl or something,” I beg, trying to reason with him, but I can see it in his eyes, he’s determined, and when Linc Matthews sets his mind to something…there is no stopping him.
“No, we’re doing this, and we’re doing it together. Now quit being a baby and c’mon.”
Linc’s firm voice conveys what I already knew. One way or another, I’m getting on this stupid thing. My heart races furiously in my chest as he hands the carnie our tickets.
He can be so freaking annoying sometimes.
In the three years we’ve been friends, he’s made me do a lot of things I didn’t want to do. He loves pushing me outside of my comfort zone. Like the time he talked me into riding on the back of his dirt bike even though they scared me to death. Or the time he made me go swimming in a pond even though he knew how much I hated not being able to see the bottom.
He knows my deep fear of heights. I can’t even ride an elevator to the third floor of our doctor’s office without hyperventilating.
But Linc has a way of talking me into just about anything. He brings adventure and fun to my simple world, and just like the scribbled words on the sheet of wide rule paper had promised, Linc and I had undoubtedly become friends.
Friends forever.
I trust him. Tell him things I don’t dare tell anyone else, not even Rachel.
But I’m not so sure about this.
As the controller closes the cage, locking us in, I begin to panic. My vision blurs as we move upward, only to stop a few feet above the ground so he can lock some other poor soul into the cage behind us.
“Relax, Syl.” The endearment rolls off his lips like a balm, soothing me instantly.
But then the damn thing starts moving again.
I hold my breath as he continues to talk, offering encouragement as we steadily climb. I try to listen to his voice, get lost in the gentle tone, but the further we climb, the more frightened I become. I close my eyes, refusing to look down or anywhere for that matter.
His hand squeezes mine.
He hasn’t let go of it since he told me we were doing this.
“Just breathe. You’re doin’ great.”
“I wanna get off, Linc. Please,” I whisper, my body trembling with fear. My belly dips as the Ferris wheel begins to fully rotate.
“Look at me.”
I shake my head. There’s no way I can open my eyes. If I do, I will hurl for sure.
“Sylvie, look at me,” he demands.
His fingers find my chin as he turns my face toward his. I keep my eyes mashed tight, terror crippling my mind and making me nauseous. All I can think about is falling or being flung off this thing and hurdling toward imminent death.
But then I hear his voice again, penetrating the haze of my anxiety and fear. It starts out low and builds. I have no choice but to pry my eyes open.
It’s the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.
Linc’s voice began to change earlier in the year. It’s always been deep with a unique rasp to it, but as more time passed, the inevitable awkwardness that came with puberty had started to wane. Now, his voice sounds more solid and deeper than I’ve ever heard before. The words coming from his mouth are all too familiar. I recognize them instantly.
