"No, no, no." I spin on my heels and scurry away from the creepy game stall, shaking my head ferociously. "I can't. I can't do this."

"Yes, you can." Ollie puts his hands on my shoulders, turns me around, and gently pushes me back to face my greatest fear.

Four rows of similar clown dolls are staring back at me with their fuzzy yellow hair, big red noses, and sinister mouths wide open as if they want to swallow me as a whole. Cold chills of fear creep down my spine at the sight. I'm about to spin around and run away again when Ollie squeezes my shoulders, offering some comfort.

"Come on, Ness. They're not even real clowns." His voice soothes my jagged nerves a little, but my hands still tremble with fear.

For as long as I can remember, I've always been afraid of clowns in any form. Even pictures of them give me chills. I don't understand why, but there's something about their bizarre makeup and uncanny smiles that terrify me to the bone. And watching It only worsened my coulrophobia.

"B-but they're looking at me like they're gonna eat me, Ol." A shudder runs through me the longer I stare at the clown dolls' gaping mouths. "What if one of them morphs into Pennywise and attacks me?"

"If that happens, then Mr. Dumpy will stab his golden chopsticks into Pennywise's eyes"—he makes a stabbing gesture in the air—"sticks them down his throat"—he slams his fists into one another—"and devour him like a very, very, delicious salmon omelet."

As the little boy standing next to me gapes at Ollie in fear, I snort a laugh. "No kidding?"

"Trust me. Pennywise has nothing on Mr. Dumpy." With a confident smirk, he offers me the balls to toss at the dolls.

A shred of hesitation lingers in me, but I bring myself to take the balls from Ollie's hands. After all, if I don't comply with his request, then I'll end up growing old alone, losing all of my teeth, and living next door to a clown.

You can do this, Vanessa. They're just dolls. They're not real clowns. They're not gonna eat you . . . right?

"Just pretend they're your haters."

I tilt my head up at Ollie, confused. "Huh?"

"Well, it's not exactly healthy, but instead of punching them in their faces and breaking their noses like you did last time, just pretend those clowns are your haters and throw the balls at them." Ollie massages my shoulders. Although he's not as good of a masseuse as Ryan, his touch drains the tension from my body. "Okay?"

"Okay," I answer with a hesitant nod.

Sweat covers my palms as I redirect my attention to the clowns. Inhaling a deep breath, I close my eyes and imagine the faces of those people who have said plenty of awful things about me behind my back. The first face that pops into my head is Jules, my backstabbing former protégé.

"Can you believe she's covering up for a cheating boyfriend and a backstabbing bitch like that yellow Voldemort for the hundred-and-third time?" Jules' voice reverberates in my mind, igniting flames of anger deep inside my chest.

As I open my eyes, one of the clown dolls morphs into Jules' beautiful but highly punchable face. She puckers up her crimson lips to show off her enviable cheekbones and gives me her infuriating fake smile. What have I ever done to you, Jules? I taught you everything I knew, and you repaid me by bad-mouthing me behind my back?

My nostrils flare with brewing anger at the thought of her betrayal. Gritting my teeth, I squeeze the ball in my hand and get ready to throw it at Jules' face. The rest of the clown dolls vanish one by one, leaving me face-to-face with my former friend.

"Her lips are just so . . . unsexy."

As anger burns hotter inside me, I take aim and hurl the ball with all my might. The ball hits Jules right square in her pouty little mouth, and she tumbles down to the ground with a loud, pathetic cry.

Ding, ding, ding!

A loud bell rings in my head, signaling the end of the battle. Thunderous applause and whistles congratulate me for beating my enemy. Overwhelming joy spreads throughout my system, and I feel as if a great weight has been lifted off my shoulders.

As a burst of pride rushes through me, I wave at my invisible supporters and get ready to deliver a victory speech. "Thank you, thank—"

"Ness, wake up!"

Ollie's voice snaps me back to reality, and I find myself grinning and waving at the rows of clowns. The little boy standing next to me gapes at me, his limbs trembling with horror.

A nervous laugh erupts from my throat. "Sorry."

Ollie chokes back a chortle and gestures at the clowns. "Please, continue."

As I redirect my gaze to the doll rack, the clowns morph into my haters. That long-suppressed desire to fight back against the bullies awakens inside me. And this time, I won't be holding anything back.

A wicked grin crawls across my face. "Oh, this is gonna be fun."

"Say hello to your new sleeping buddy." I stretch out my arms toward Ollie, offering him the 17-inch stuffed bunny I just won at Cat Rack.

After thirteen rounds of throwing balls at my haters' faces—ahem, the clowns, I managed to knock them down three times in a row and win a prize. All of the toys available are adorable, but I choose this super-soft, floppy-eared bunny because it's perfect for cuddling.

In other words, it's perfect for my very own life-sized chubby dumpling.

Judging from the dark circles around his eyes, Ollie has been having trouble sleeping. Since I refuse to be his sleeping buddy, I decide to give him the next best thing—a replica of yours truly.

Ollie clicks his tongue and sneers at me. "What am I? Five?"

"Oh, come on, Ol. Look at cute Little Miss Mochi over here." I pinch the stuffed bunny's fluffy cheeks and tilt my head to the side, fluttering my lashes. "You know you want her."

His mouth twitches in a suppressed smile, yet he replies, "No, I don't."

"Yes, you do."

Ollie averts his gaze and scurries away from me. "No, I don't."

I try to chase him, having a hard time keeping up with him because of my stilettos. "Yes, you do."

"No, I don't." He slows down his steps.

"Yes, you—ooh." I stop in my tracks when I see a photo booth on my right. When Ollie and I last visited this place, our date was forced to end before we had a chance to snap a picture as a memento. I was devastated about it, but there was nothing I could do.

"Hey." Ollie stops before me, confused. "What's—"

"Let's take a photo." A bubble of excitement bursts inside me as I grab his hand and drag him to the photo booth.

The rest of the night goes by so fast. We spend hours playing dozens of fun games, eating the street food, and trying out the rides, from the Ferris wheel to the roller coaster—and no, Ollie doesn't vomit this time.

Before we know it, the crowd thins out, the park starts closing its rides, and most of the restaurants are already locked up. Right before the ice cream parlor closes, we buy two cones of the delectable dessert to end the night—cookie monster with extra chocolate syrup for Ollie and strawberry with rainbow sprinkles for me.

My cheeks hurt from all the smiling and laughing, my teeth are aching because of the amount of sweet food I've eaten tonight—especially those cotton candies—and my stilettos are killing me. But that doesn't stop me from strolling along the boardwalk with Ollie and stealing bites of each other's ice cream along the way. The gentle breeze of the night air, the sound of ocean waves crashing on the beach, and the warmth of Ollie's hand against mine draw a huge grin across my face.

Tonight is perfect.

What started as one of the worst nights of my life has become the best. And it wouldn't have happened if it wasn't for my best friend.

I gaze up at Ollie, who's doing his best to eat his ice cream cone while holding Little Miss Mochi in his arms. "Hey, Ol?"

"Hmm?" He glances at me, his cheeks puffed out with food.

I chuckle. "Thanks for tonight. I had fun."

His kind eyes crinkle with delight as he swallows the food in his mouth. "You're very welcome."

He gobbles up the last of his ice cream before excusing himself to throw the cone wrapper into the trash not far from us. As I continue eating my dessert, I pull out the photos we took earlier at the photo booth.

We tried out different silly poses and ended up taking five sets of photos. Each of the strips has the Pacific Park logo at the top and three shots of us.

Ollie has always been a photogenic person, but my mom and her gossip gang were right. He glows like sunshine when he's photographed next to me. And to my utter surprise, the same applies to me.

I usually look awful in pictures—especially the ones the paparazzi or Celia took. But not tonight. Maybe it's the magic of this place. Or maybe it's because I'm having the time of my life. Or maybe it's simply because Ollie's here with me, and his presence makes any picture a thousand times better. Whatever the reason is, I manage to look pretty in every single one of the photos tonight.

My cheeks grow warm when I see the picture where Ollie steals a kiss from me, and I bury my mouth in my strawberry ice cream. Yet my smile soon dies when I hear an amused chortle from Ollie.

I push the photos back into my clutch and guzzle down the rest of my dessert. "What?"

"You got a little something around . . ." Ollie gestures at my mouth, pressing his lips together to stifle a laugh.

"Shoot." I wipe my mouth using the back of my hand. "Is it gone?"

My pulse picks up its pace as he narrows his eyes and steps closer to me, scrunching his nose up. "There's still a little . . ."

His warm breath fans my face, sending a buzz of heat through my body. No, no, no. You're in public, Vanessa. It's one thing to be photographed having a 'date' date with Ollie. But to be photographed kissing him for the second time in one night is something else entirely.

A glance around the boardwalk tells me there's nobody here but us and some vendors closing their shops. Well . . .

As Ollie leans forward and brushes his thumb over my cheek, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes tells me I've already fallen into another one of his traps.

"There's nothing on my face, is t—"

He silences me by lowering his mouth onto mine in a slow and tender kiss. The sweet, rich taste of the blue vanilla ice cream he just ate blends with the unpretentious, fruity remnants of the strawberry ice cream in my mouth, creating a delicious combination that makes me hungry for more. Closing my eyes, I wind my arms around his neck.

His lips embrace mine with an out-of-this-world tenderness, and it feels as if he's trying to tell me I have the most luscious lips in the world. His strong hand cups the side of my face, his thumb caressing my chubby cheek as if it belongs to the most beautiful Disney princess in the multiverse. Just when I think things can't get any better, he proves me wrong by nuzzling his nose against mine. A simple but affectionate gesture that melts my heart.

Ollie has never been good with words, but his action always speaks louder than any words can ever express. The way he kisses me screams that he adores every part of my face that I always hate—or used to hate.

Warmth travels from my chest to my fingertips. There's nothing I want more than to tell him how much I love him right now. But I know he's not ready to hear those three magical words yet. The last thing I want is for him to feel forced to say things he doesn't want to.

So, I just kiss him with all my heart and soul.

Smiling against my lips, he tries to turn up the heat by running his left hand down my spine. But fluffy Little Miss Mochi—who is trapped between Ollie's arm and my back—tingles me through the fabric of my dress, causing a giggle to bubble up from within my belly instead.

Unamused by my reaction, Ollie drops Little Miss Mochi to the ground and sets his hand on the small of my back.

"Hey!" I protest. "You dropped Little Miss Mo—"

He shuts me up by pulling me closer to him and crashing his mouth onto mine, chuckling darkly. How rude, Mr. Dumpy.

The butterflies in my belly flap their wings like crazy as he crushes my body against his in a tight embrace. A pleasant shudder runs across my skin when his hand travels up my back and gently squeezes the nape of my neck. He brushes his tongue across my lips—sweet yet tantalizing—and I can't help but moan with pleasure. Gripping his shirt, I suck his lower lip into my mouth and nibble a little. His soft groan shoots shivers down my spine, heat gathering deep in my core.

"Hey," I pant, breaking the kiss before it gets too heated for the public eye. "Wanna know a secret?"

Curiosity twinkles in Ollie's eyes. "What secret?"

I stand on my toes and whisper in his ear, "This is the best date ever."

"Yeah?"

"Mm-hmm. And the dessert?" I gesture a chef's kiss that brings forth a hearty laugh from Ollie.

The sound of his delighted chuckle warms up my heart even more, and the beam of joy on his face convinces me I'm officially out of The Sister Zone.

Author's Note:

This chapter is dedicated to Bud_and_Blossom. Thanks for the wonderful fanart! xD It's in her random book, in case any of you are wondering. Do check her works out! :)

Well, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and if you do, please show some support by tapping that little star button and/or leaving comments. Thanks for reading! :)