“Ugh.” She rolled her eyes and swatted me with the rooster. “Worst storyteller ever. How did the dare happen? Was it teenage boy shenanigans?” Her voice fell to a dramatic whisper. “Were you trying to impress a girl?”
I laughed and plucked at a blade of grass. “My friend Troy swiped a jar of moonshine from his old man’s stash and, like the bunch of idiots we all were, we took turns passing it around behind the Tilt-a-Whirl until we were halfway to being completely shitfaced. Not long after that, the shenanigans began, and there may or may not have been a girl who I may or may not have been trying to impress.”
“So, you climbed the Ferris wheel?” Her lips folded inward, trapping the laugh behind them.
I shrugged and tore off another blade of grass, tossing it at her playfully. “She likedThe Notebook.”
Thatsent her over the edge.
Laughter tore from her throat, completely unrestrained, as she tossed her head back and just…let loose. I liked seeing this side of her, and I liked knowing I could be the one to make her laugh like that—even if it was at my own expense.
“If you’re all done cackling at my romantic gestures,” I teased, sitting up to collect our trash. “The fireworks are about to start.” I stood up with our trash and walked it over to the nearby trash barrels.
Around us, the chaos started to settle. A large crowd was already drifting toward the wide-open field behind the rodeo arena, staking out prime viewing spots with blankets and lawn chairs. Food and craft vendors called out last-minute deals before pulling down the metal shutters over their serving windows. And, one by one, the neon lights of the rides blinked out until only the Ferris wheel remained lit, spinning slowly against the darkening sky.
After dumping our trash, I walked back to where Andi was still sitting in the grass. “Are we able to see them from here?” she asked.
I watched her take in the crowd, moving slowly like a herd of cattle with too much stuff and too much noise. Yeah, I was thinking the same thing.
“We’ll see them just fine,” I said, dropping back down beside her and stretching out again.
She shot me an appreciative smile before looking back at the darkening sky.
“I love fireworks,” she said after a moment, adjusting that ridiculous rooster in her lap and fluffing his lopsided hat before curling her arms around him like a pillow. “There’s just something about them that’s so…magical. And no matter how many times you see them, theystillsurprise you. Like the ones that pop in layers or—oooh!—the ones that crackle and fall really slow like glittering rain.” She gave a dreamy sigh. “Those are my favorite.”
I should’ve been looking up at the sky with her, tracking where the first burst might go off, but I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. I thought seeing her laugh with her whole heart was something, but this? This was so much better. Watching her throw her hands around as she talked, like she couldn’t keep all that energy bottled up. Hearing how her voice pitched up with excitement. Every now and then she’d glance my way, checking if I was still with her, and I’d nod because I was. I wasall insitting there next to her, watching her light up like a kid on Christmas…and she had no clue.
The first firework launched into the sky like a falling star in reverse, and Andi let out this soft, breathless sound that hooked right into my chest. It pulled me out of my head—out of that strange out of body place where I was watching myself fall for her in real time.
Boom.
It bloomed across the sky in a soft crackle of purple and gold, illuminating her face as she stared at it with childlike wonder.
She beamed and leaned forward slightly as the next firework shot into the air—one of those white-hot screamers that whistled on the way up before bursting in a loud, staccato crack overhead. I felt it in my chest, and she must have, too, because she flinched. Not much, just a tiny jolt in her shoulders, but enough that I saw it. Still, she kept smiling. Kept her eyes on the sky.
Another one followed, bigger and louder, this time. It exploded in a flash of green before two more cracks sounded in succession. She flinched again, and I caught the way her arms tightened around that stuffed bird—her fingers going white-knuckled in the dim light as she clutched him to her. She swallowed. Forced a smile. And I watched helplessly as that light that had burned so bright in her just minutes ago started to fade. Each crack of sound stole a little more of it as her spine curved inward and her shoulders curled like she was trying to shrink down.
“You okay?” I asked, keeping my voice soft enough that it wouldn’t startle her but loud enough so she could hear me.
She nodded too fast. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”
I wasn’t buying it.
Another firework screamed overhead and cracked like a gunshot, too loud and too close.
Andi’s entire body flinched this time, and when I instinctively moved to give her a reassuring touch, she jerked away from me and sucked in a breath.
I froze, throwing my hands up to show her I wasn’t a threat. “Hey, it’s okay,” I murmured. “You’re okay. It’s just me.”
She blinked fast as her gaze locked with mine, like she was trying not to cry, and shook her head. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“Do you want to get out of here?”
There was a second of hesitation, and then she nodded.
I was on my feet in a flash, careful not to rattle her any more than she already was, and held out my hand. She took it without a word, still clutching that rooster tight to her chest, as I helped her up and tucked her trembling frame against my side.
Feeling her body shake like that nearly killed me.
