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The Whole Package

Page 57

by Sophie Gravia

He pulled his hand back like it hadn’t meant anything at all.

‘Why are you acting weird?’ he asked. ‘You’re staring at me.’

Shit. ‘What? No, I’m not,’ I said immediately.

He didn’t look convinced. He started walking again, and I followed, trying to ignore the sudden something pounding in my chest.

‘What’s next?’ I asked quickly.

He jerked his head towards the Ferris wheel. ‘That!’

‘No,’ I said instantly. ‘Absolutely not.’

He was already walking.

‘Jamie.’

‘Two, please,’ he said to the girl at the ticket booth.

‘Jamie, I’m serious – I hate heights.’ I stomped my foot like a child.

He didn’t even look at me. Just reached back, grabbed my hand and pulled me forward. And then I was inside. The door slammed shut.

‘Nope. I hate this already!’ The pod lurched upward. ‘Press stop! I actually hate this—’ But we were moving. Fuck. I squeezed my eyes shut.

‘Tell me you don’t have your eyes shut behind those glasses,’ he said, laughing.

‘Ssshh!’ I murmured. OK, think of something positive, I thought, feeling the wind blow through my hair. Imagine you’re on a beach, Harri.

‘You have them shut!’ He giggled.

‘Leave me alone,’ I said back, thinking of Mum and Dad, and the public statement that would be issued if I died on this fucking deathtrap.

‘Harri, please look,’ Jamie said. ‘It’s class.’

‘Nope.’ I began humming. Distract yourself.

The pod creaked and moved higher.

I gripped the seat. ‘I can feel the air getting thinner,’ I muttered.

Then it jolted. I grabbed his hand instantly.

‘It’s stopped!’ I screamed.

‘It’s fine,’ he said calmly. ‘It’s letting people on and off. Just look. Please. Trust me.’

Slowly, I opened my eyes. The lights stretched out below us. The market glowed. The city sparkled. And the castle sat there, solid and steady in the distance.

‘Wow.’ I gasped. ‘It’s beautiful,’ I admitted, turning to him. I was still gripping his hand. I could feel the heat of his body radiating through my coat.

‘Not as beautiful as—’

‘Don’t,’ I said quickly, heat rushing into my face.

He stopped. But he didn’t move away. And neither did I. That was the problem. His free hand lifted – hesitating – then gently pushed a strand of hair back from my face. My breath caught.

‘Jamie . . .’ I said, softer now.