“We could call it The Summer of Maisie and Henry, but this is your list.” I shrug. “I’m just lucky enough to be cheering you on from the sidelines.”
A giggle escapes her mouth. “You’re like my own personal cheerleader.”
“I’d be your personal cheerleader for life if you allowed me to, but I’ll take this summer fornow.”
She doesn’t say anything, just looks out the window, but I see her twirling with her fingers again.
“This drive really is so beautiful, you’re lucky you got to grow up here,” I say, eyes back on the road but wishing I could continue to look at her.
“It is.” She shifts her body and lays her head near the top of the seatbelt, continuing to gaze out the window. “My mom used to take me to the fair a lot as a child, I haven’t been in… years.”
“Yeah? Why’s that?”
“Life just got too busy as we got older. My grandma needed more help at the diner, and next thing you know, another year had flown by.”
“I find it funny how as kids, all we wanted was to grow up so fast,” I glance at her and the way the sun is hitting her face perfectly, “but now that we’re older, we all long for what we once had. For the time we had.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice she ducks her head and stares down at her legs.
“Maisie?” I want to hold her, to touch her, for her to know I’m here. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
Sighing, she picks up her head and leans against the headrest. “Honestly, I haven’t done anything for myself in a long time and I don’t know how to feel. Excited? Nervous? I’m not sure.”
“It’s okay to feel everything at once, it just means you’re alive.”
“Thank you for doing this.” I notice she still doesn’t look at me as she speaks. Her fingers anxiously playing with the hem of her dress now. “I’m still unsure why you said yes, but… thank you.”
“I will do anything you ask of me, Maisie. I’ll say yes every time.” I glance toward her at the same time as she looks out the window, looking ethereal. “How about some music to get you out of your head? My password is 0403 and Spotify should be on the home page.”
She grabs my phone from the cup holder I tossed it into and opens it, giggling to herself.
“I’m scared to know what you’re laughing at.”
“It’s nothing bad.” She laughs again and shows me the phone screen as we come to a stop sign. “It’s just that your last five liked songs are from the High School Musical soundtrack.”
“A guy can’t love a little nostalgia moment from time to time?” I laugh. “The second one is by far the best movie though.”
“Oh, no don’t get me wrong. I’m ahugeHigh School Musical fan, and I hate to stroke your—” she stops at the same time that I quirk a brow in her direction. “Ego, pervert. I wasagreeingwith you that High School Musical 2 is superior but didn’t want to stroke yourego.”
“I love messing with you, it’s fun seeing you squirm.”
As if this is a game of who can make the most sexual innuendos, she hits me back with, “I’m sure you’d like to make me squirm.”
“Maisie Winslow, I cannot confirm or deny that accusation.” I try to ignore my hardening cock, not wanting to make this whole situation more sexual than it already is.
She bites her lip in an attempt to hide a smile, knowing exactly what she’s doing.
We drive the last few minutes to the fair with only the High School Musical soundtrack playing in the background.
“Maisie, you’re about to be a kid again like you were when you’d come here with your mom. The child we both once were that wanted to grow up so bad.” We pull into the parking lot, kids and families walking to the entrance, teenagers on dates, laughter circling around us. “Today is about you, and about getting over your fear of the ferris wheel.”
“I almost forgot that’s why we were here.” She tenses up at the thought.
I look toward her and take the moment to touch her, moving a piece of hair that’s astray behind her ear. “I would never make you do something you don’t want to do. If we get there and you no longer want to get on it, we won’t. I promise.”
“Thank you,” she says quietly and I see her shoulders loosen up.
“Now, let’s go have a fun day. There’s no growing up happening today.”
