“For you,” he says, handing me the knife, the blade tucked safely away in the handle.
“Wow. Every girl’s dream. There’s nothing more romantic than a boy winning you a knife,” I joke, taking it from him. But my cheeks turn red when I realize I’ve just mentionedromance. “Thanks,” I add with a smile, and tuck it into my pocket.
Luckily my mention of romance doesn’t make things weird.After our first win there’s no stopping us, and we make our way to each of the booths. Darts, we win a wonky Minion fromDespicable Methat looks a little different than I remember from the movie, and Ryan gives it to a little girl playing beside us, which is adorable. Basketball, neither of us has any luck at. Then we find our way to the Rope Ladder, four rotating, wobbly ladders hanging over a sloped, inflatable base. The goal: to hold on for dear life as you climb up to the buzzer at the very top.
“Aww man. Igottatry this,” Ryan says, already pulling ahead of me with excitement. I watch as he hands the attendant ticket after ticket, falling time and time again.
He bounces down with a grunt for the tenth time and slides back down to the ground. “Okay. This is the last time,” he says to me, completely out of breath but still excited. As he hands over another ticket and takes a second to formulate a game plan, the attendant eggs him on by bunny-hopping up onto a middle rung right in front of him and then somehow manages to walk right up to the top, pressing the buzzer without his hands ever touching the ladder.
“Yeah, real nice, buddy,” Ryan says as he steps up again. His legs are already shaking like a leaf before he even makes it to the second rung, but to my surprise, he steadies himself and manages to go farther than he ever has before. I take a step forward, holding my breath as he lowers himself to the ladder, as close as he can get.What is he…
All at once he makes a full-body lunge toward the button at the top but misses by about seven feet and slams down onto the base with a thud. I bust out laughing as he rolls his way back down and onto his feet.
“Did you see how close I was that time?!” He holds his thumb and pointer finger about an inch apart. “This close.I wasthis closeto that buzzer,” he says.
“Sure, ‘this close.’?” I laugh.
Now I can’t remember what I was so nervous about. This is just like hanging out with a friend. Maybe I’ve been making too big a deal out of it.
“You want to get something to eat?” he asks.
“Yeah, I’ve been dying for a caramel apple all year. So for like three years, I guess. Which iswaytoo long to be wanting a caramel apple,” I reply.
“You know, you can get those at the grocery store.”
“It’s not the same. I need the full experience,” I tell him as we head out of the games section.
“The exorbitant prices, the hundreds of sweaty people around you, the smell of mud and porta-potties,” he jokes.
“Exactly,”I say as we pass a gun raffle right next to a couple of people handing out free Bibles.
We take our time walking through the food stands, neither of us attempting to overtake the group of older ladies ahead of us. We slow our pace, listening to them bicker about whether or not the malt vinegar on their fresh-cut fries was watered down this year, as the smell of greasy funnel cakes swirls all around us.
“So why did you and your family move here?” I ask, looking up at him, about half a head taller than me.
“My dad got a job a couple of towns over and my mom really liked the house they found here.” He shrugs. “Although they’re gone more than they’re home.”
“I’m sorry, that sucks. How do you like Wyatt so far?” I ask.
“It’s… nice.” I meet eyes with him. I can see his face starting to break, and soon we’re both laughing.Wyatt. Nice. HA.“I don’t know. The people here all seem kinda… the same, I guess. It sorta felt like I would never really belong. I mean, until I met you, of course.”
“No, I know what you mean. I feel like that sometimes and I was born and raised here, so you’re not alone,” I reply.
“It’s been okay, but I’ll be more than ready to get out of here in the fall,” he says.
“Oh, where are you going?” I ask.
“I’m doing my first semester in Rome.”
“Noway!” I say, excited for him, but also a little bummed that he’ll be leaving at the end of summer too and I’ll be staying right here.
“How about you? What are you doing?” he asks.
“Staying here. Going to Bower, the community college,” I reply, feeling a little crushed again just saying it.
“You don’t seem too thrilled.”
“It’s fine, I guess. My dad thinks it’ll be good for me to stay close to home after… you know.” I point vaguely to my head, and suddenly, I realize for the first time that I haven’t thought about any of that all night, partially thanks to Ryan not bringing it up. “Bower just isn’t exactly what I had in mind for myself,” I add.
