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.
One of my favorite songs.
This is the first time I’ve ever heard Linc sing. I know he loves to play guitar with his dad, and has even played for me a couple of times. He’s really good, especially for a beginner, but I had no idea he could sing, too.
Now here he is, singing to me, and it not only calms my uncertainty and makes me forget how high up we are but it also has me completely captivated.
“I didn’t know you could sing,” I say, in awe of him.
His voice is truly beautiful.
He shrugs, his cheeks flaming red. “Whoa… Linc Matthews, are you blushing?”
“I’ve never sang to anyone before,” he admits, and a surge of pride swells in my chest, grateful that I’m the first person he’s shared his talent with.
“You’re really good.”
“Nah.”
“No, I mean it.” I sigh. “You’re amazing.”
“Thanks. Worked, didn’t it?” He nods over my shoulder, and for the first time, I feel brave enough to look.
We’re stopped at the top again. I can see the entire county fair below. We are at least a hundred feet in the air, but there is no more fear. No more anxiety. He’s taken it all away with nothing more than his hand wrapped around mine and the sound of his extraordinary voice.
He presses his lips against my forehead. Something he started doing more often lately. Part of me wonders if he means more by it, but the other part knows crossing that line could ruin our friendship, and I would never be willing to take that risk.
“See, I knew you could do it,” he says.
I throw my arms around his neck, hugging him tight. “Thank you.”
I still can’t believe I did it. With him, I overcame one of my greatest fears, and he revealed to me a part of himself no one else knows about.
It goes down as one of the best nights of my life.
Past
