He stops walking and looks back at me, the low-glow path lights catching the ghost of a smirk on his face. “Is that what we’re calling it now? A flex?”
“In my world? Yes.” I step up beside him, our shadows stretching long across the empty plaza. I almost feel like I should have asked for an autograph before I disinvited him to trivia.
He lets out a genuine laugh that echoes off the glass walls of the nearby exhibits. It’s a deep, rich sound. It makes my stomach do a slow, fluttering roll.
As we round the corner and Trident’s Run comes into view, I gasp. This ride isn’t just impressive. It’s audacious.
The gleaming steel track coils in and out of the massive aquarium walls like a silver serpent. Each curve and drop is meticulously sculpted. Floodlights spill over the glass tunnel where the cars dive beneath the tank, and in theglowing blue depths above, shadowy silhouettes of sharks drift silently past.
“If you want to brag about your portfolio, I’ll gladly listen. This is the most beautiful thing I think I’ve ever seen.”
“Seeing is one thing. But you need to experience it,” he scoffs.
Marco stops beside a small control booth at the edge of the platform. “We’re running a few maintenance checks overnight,” he explains, tapping the screen. “You called at the right time. We have a train staged and ready for you.”
Theo glances at me, the corner of his mouth lifting just slightly. “Well... care to take a ride?”
“Obviously,” I say, attempting to imitate his posh British accent.
Marco chuckles and keys in a few commands. “That’s pretty good.”
“Thanks.” I grin.
Theo shakes his head.
With a mechanical hiss, the gates glide open. I follow Theo up the empty loading platform and slide into the front row. The restraints settle over my shoulders and lock into place with a solidthunk. Anticipation blooms sharp and electric in my chest. “I think you’ve just secured yourself the boss of the year award,” I half shout.
“Remember tonight if I’m ever up against Sharma.”
The train glides forward, inching into position on the launch track. Marco’s voice booms over the loudspeaker. “Stand clear of the track. Trident’s Run test train number one is in position.”
The lights dim, replaced by a wash of cool-blue from the tank above. Silvery shapes drift overhead, smooth and silent, and for a split second I forget I’m not underwater.
“Ready?” Theo asks, his voice low beside me.
“Born ready,” I whisper.
The countdown hits—three, two, one—and then the world snaps into motion. The launch slams me back into my seat as the coaster rockets forward and wind tears past my face. We shoot toward the first drop, the track banking hard, and laughter bursts out of me before I can stop it.
The acceleration is smooth and relentless. I close my eyes for a heartbeat, letting myself feel the press of g-forces, the weightlessness before the drop. This is what I love about coasters. The adrenaline, and the fact that this is living, breathing science.
The tunnel swallows us whole, a kaleidoscope of light and water dancing above our heads. Sharks and rays drift just feet away, their shadows slicing through the shimmering blue. The train twists, climbs, and plunges again.
I steal a glance sideways and almost miss the next breath. Theo is grinning. For a fleeting second, I see the boy who must have fallen in love with rides long before he ever learned how to build them. The sight sends an unexpected ache through my chest.
When the brakes engage and we roll back into the station, I’m breathless, adrenaline buzzing under my skin. “That,” I say, clapping once, unable to help myself, “was epic.”
As Theo unfastens his harness, he asks, “How would you rank it out of ten? Did you notice any weaknesses? Areas for improvement?”
I laugh, still a little breathless, and push myself up from the seat. “You’re asking me this while my legs are still vibrating?”
“Best time to ask,” he replies mildly. “Your nervous system hasn’t had time to lie to you yet.”
I hop down onto the platform and take a second to orient myself. “Nine-point-five,” I say. “The launch is clean, the pacing’s excellent, and the underwater section feels seamless. There aren’t any dead spots.”
He nods once, as if ticking boxes in his head. “And the missing half point?”
I glance back at the track, thinking. “It could use maybe a touch more airtime after the second rise. Not much. Just enough to make people forget which way is up before the tunnel.”
