It’s weird being in the place where we used to be happy. Where Knox used to dare me onto rides and Owen used to win me stuffed animals and our parents used to pack lunches we’d eat on the benches overlooking the lake.
Where everything used to be simple.
“I don’t know all the details,” she says. “But I know it’s been…strained.”
If she’s fishing for information, she won’t catch any from me. I shrug and give her a small, “It’s fine,” in response, and thankfully she drops it.
We end up at the Tilt-O-Whirl because Owen insists it’s tradition.
“We always ride this one first,” he says, adjusting his hat backwards as he rushes to the entrance. “Remember how Dad used to make us ride it to ‘warm up our stomachs?’”
Knox groans. “I might sit this one out.”
I find myself staring at him, and when he meets my gaze, the words slip out. “What’s wrong? Too scared you’ll barf?”
Wow, Sawyer. Childish much?
I can just picture his eyes narrowing behind his glasses but the only sign of his annoyance is a slight jaw tic. Instead of taking my bait, he shakes his head and follows Owen into line.
“Loving the back and forth with you two,” Ella says so only I can hear. “I can feel the sibling love.”
Her tone is amused but at the mention of Knox being my brother, I hold in a scowl.
“He started it,” I mutter, knowing I’m full of shit. The only thing he’s done is ignore my existence and I guess that’s making me want to get a rise out of him even more. It’s better than me anxiously trying to pretend he’s not here. I guess?
The line moves quickly since it’s still early and most families hurried to the big coasters first. We shuffle forward past faded safety signs and height markers, breathing in the scent of popcorn from a nearby cart.
I forgot all about this tradition until Owen brought it up, but now that I’m in line, I can just picture Richard parked at the exit with his fancy camera, waiting to catch us stumbling off the ride, dizzy and uncoordinated. He thought it was hilarious and I’ll admit the photos were always gold.
The three of us would fit in one car then, and Knox would always use his body weight to try to spin it harder, making Owen yell at him to stop while I screamed with laughter.
Such a stark difference to the way we file into the cars now. Me and Owen in one, and Knox and Ella in the one directly behind us. Owen adjusts the lap bar just as the bored teenager in a Wonder World visor comes over to double-check with a one second glance.
“Ready?” Owen’s already smiling as he lays his hand over mine on the safety bar.
Not really.
“Always,” I say.
The ride starts with a lurch and the platform begins to rotate slowly, while the individual cars begin their own spinning. Owen shoots me a devilish look and leans to the side making our car whip around. A laugh escapes my lips, even if I’m not exactly in the laughing mood. With Owen, it’s too difficult not to.
Behind us, Ella shrieks over the creepy calliope music and Knox says something I can’t make out.
Our car speeds up and the world around me becomes a blur of color. Owen spins us faster, harder, and suddenly I’m eight years old again. The sun is bright and hot, the breeze is whipping my hair across my face, and for the smallest moment, it feels like life is simple again.
Until the ride slows and the cars gradually lose momentum. Reality settles back in like an unwanted guest.
We stumble off. More likeIstumble off. Owen, thankfully, grabs my hand to steady me and my jelly legs.
Ella hops down with one hand pressed to her stomach. Her skin is a lovely shade of pea green. “Oh my God. Why did I agree to this?”
“Because it’s tradition.” Owen drops my hand to help steady her since Knox is too busy running a hand through his perfectly messy hair.
“You okay?” I ask, thinking she’s being a tad dramatic, but who am I to talk?
“Yeah, just…give me a second.” She takes deep breaths, fanning her face with her hand, leaning on Owen like she’s helpless.
He doesn’t seem to mind, hand wrapped around her shoulder as he leads her to the nearest bench, leaving Knox and me to follow.
