Chapter Nineteen

        Where We Play

        I yelp as the white Mustang Fastback lurches forward, threatening to drag out everything in the shed with it. Taking a deep breath, I push down on the break and it stops abruptly, throwing Jacoby and I in our seatbelts for the second time.

            “I told you that she’s sensitive,” Jacoby mutters, rubbing the dashboard as if my car isn’t an inanimate object.

            Rolling my eyes, I let my fingers uncurl themselves from the steering wheel. “First of all, she’s a car. Second,” I explain, holding up my hand in a peace sign, “I didn’t think it would freak out the second I touched the gas.”

            Jacoby stares at me like I have two heads. “Did you honestly think that it would drive the same as the Camaro?”

            “Did you honestly think I would agree to enter a race with a car I’ve never driven before?”

            His shoulders slump in defeat and he sinks into the passenger seat, frowning. “Do you want to try a practice run at the track before we go to the fair?”

            This time I shoot him a shocked look. “Well yeah.”

            The Mustang turns my brain to mush from all the jerky movements on the very slow, very cautious and very irregular drive to the front of the house. To make matters worse as I’m trying to drive like an old lady with poor vision, Belle comes running around the corner, waving her hands in front of me like she thinks I’ll stop in time to not hit her.

            “Brakes,” Jacoby hisses. “Brakes!”

            My foot presses down as Belle squeals. The back of my head smacks against the ripping headrest and I blink a few times, attempting to see clearly. When my vision goes back to normal, Belle is glaring at me directly in front of the Fastback, yelling even though I can’t make out her words.

            “She’s just learning, so be easy on her,” Jacoby tells my sister as she storms towards my side of the door.

            “You’re taking me to the fair,” she growls. “Now.”

            I groan and drop my hands from the steering wheel. “We need to practice.”

            “She can come.” Jacoby shrugs beside me and I throw my hands in front of his face, as if it will clear an imaginary fog of air that’s making him an idiot.

            “I’m not going to kill my sister, thank you very much.”

            “Says the girl who almost ran me over,” Belle mutters, climbing into the backseat despite my protests. “Now drive!”

©

            I think that showing up with Jacoby to the county fair is something like a death wish. Of course the town is going to be there. Of course everyone knows who I am. Of course everyone knows Jacoby and Dove have a child. Of course this is going to get back to her.

            “I’m so dead,” I mutter, turning the Mustang shakily into the fairgrounds. It turns out that it’s just a farmer’s field used for the events.

            “Turn up on the left instead of going to the parking field.” Jacoby points across the car to show me. “Because this is the car you’re entering, you get special parking.”

            “Ou,” Belle says in my right ear. She took off her seatbelt and is now leaning on the center console to stare out of the windshield. “Special.”

            I shush her and follow a man who waves us over to my designated spot. As soon as I start to drive past the other contestants, I feel their stares. Almost all of them are loitering around their cars, some which have painted on numbers. Every one of them is a guy.

            “They’re just sizing you up because you’re a girl,” Jacoby explains as if it’s nothing. “Ignore them.”

            “You never told me why you aren’t racing too,” I note, trying to talk to distract myself from how awkward I feel.

            Jacoby shrugs. “You never asked. But I’m not because I want to give you a fair chance. We both know that I’d win.” He nudges me in the arm as I pull to a stop in a bare part of grass. “I am entered in an event, though.”

            I raise my eyebrows as I kill the engine. “What event?”

            “The demolition derby.”

            “You’re going to wreck the Camaro?” Belle’s eyes grow wide and I’m shocked by the fact that she knows what Jacoby’s car is called.

            He turns to her, putting his hand over his lips as if he just saw something shocking. “Belle! How dare you say such a thing!”

            I tilt my head to the left and narrow my eyes. “Jacoby, get to the point.”

            “I actually have a car that’s been rotting behind my garage. I thought ‘why not?’” He smiles but it fades when he sees my expression. “Don’t give me that look. Why are you giving me that look?”

            “Aren’t demolition derby’s dangerous?”

            Jacoby groans and starts to try to convince me about how safe they are. He’s only halfway done his argument when he climbs out of the Mustang, purposely shutting the door to end our conversation early.

            Belle is already running across the special parking lot to a girl with her mother that she apparently knows. She doesn’t look back as she joins up with them as they head into the fairgrounds and I wonder why I haven’t noticed Belle’s social life before.

            “We need to get our hands stamped.” Jacoby appears beside me and links our fingers together. I start to dig in my shorts pockets for money when he raises his free hand, stopping me. “What kind of person would I be if I let you pay for yourself?”

            “You would be Jacoby Grey, the boy who never paid for me when we were kids.” I laugh and playfully smack his chest as he mocks hurt. By the time we have our hands stamped with silly little race car ink prints, all my nerves have faded away to the back of my mind.

            “We have a few hours to kill before the race starts. What do you want to do first?” He gestures to the wide field around us filled with laughing kids, screaming rides and enough funnel cake to feed a town.

            “Ferris Wheel,” I decide, pulling him towards the giant wheel. “Definitely the Ferris Wheel.”

            “Recreating the old tradition?” We’re now standing in the line, waiting until the ride lets a few more people out.

            “Tradition?” I say slowly, unsure if I should feel bad that I don’t remember what he’s talking about.

            “Stevie Greenwood, do you not remember the Ferris Wheel tradition that you, Lark and I had for all of our childhoods?” He looks at me with amusement, but also a small amount of hurt. I notice that he leaves Dove out of his sentence, though she was a part of it, but I’m in no way going to bring that up.

            “I didn’t know that was a tradition,” I laugh as I show the ride operator my stamped hand.

            Jacoby nudges me with his shoulder as we walk through the gates and climb into a small, gated bench. “Well, it kind of was. Maybe this will remind you.”

            As soon as we’re seated Jacoby throws his arm around my shoulders and the operator straps us in safely. In a moment we rock forward and I can’t help but tense, causing Jacoby to laugh beside me.

            “Now do you remember?” he asks with a smirk. His arm tightens around me and I give him a pained expression.

            “Yes, now I remember my fear of how creaky this old thing is,” I mutter. In all honestly now I do remember the tradition, but I’m not about to tell Jacoby that part of it was pretending I was scared so that he would sit a little closer to me.

            “It’s okay,” he smiles as we near the top. Before I can pretend to disagree with him he moves closer to me while also pulling me to him. Once we reach the very top of the Ferris Wheel he kisses me.

            It’s a quick kiss, but once he pulls away he’s only inches from my face, teasing me. I steal another one before we’re on the way down, getting a good view of the whole fair. I’m grinning as wide as I can as I lean into Jacoby when the most unexpected thing happens. We’re almost at the bottom when in front of us on the grass stands the last person either of us want to see.

            “Oh my God,” Jacoby mutters, groaning as he leans his head back. “Why can’t she just leave us alone?” He briefly looks at Dove and gives her a face of disgust but she doesn’t look phased. With her hands on her hips and her eyes narrowed, I don’t think anything can change how angry she is right now.

            I don’t say anything back. The next five minutes are actually torture. We’re just going round and round on a ride, coming face to face with evil Dove Miller who’s waiting for the second we get off. As soon as our last spin around comes, Jacoby turns to me with apologetic eyes.

            “You wait by the exit, okay? I’m going to talk to her and see what’s going on. She’s probably just overreacting and honestly, it’s not fair for you to be dragged into this.” He climbs out and turns around, giving me his hand to help me up. He doesn’t let go as we head away from the ride and I can’t tell if I like that he’s holding my hand because it’s comforting me, or if I hate it because it’s going to drive Dove crazy.

            “That’s fine,” I mumble, moving my gaze to the grass as we stop.

            “I’ll be right back.” He kisses my forehead and squeezes my hand before disconnecting himself from me.

            As soon as he reaches Dove I turn around and face the entrance, not wanting to see how things are going to play out. I get bored and impatient quick so not wanting to stray too far, I move to a pile of semi-empty picnic tables lined with red and white tablecloths. I’m only sitting down for a minute when someone plops down on the table top in front of me.

            “Well, don’t you look like you’re having loads of fun?” I look up and Lark smiles. “I didn’t expect to find you so quick since I just got here and you didn’t tell me you were coming.”

            “Sorry,” I reply, leaning my cheek lazily on my hand. “I didn’t exactly know until a little while before I had to leave. And as for the loads of fun, look over there.” I throw my thumb over my shoulder and point towards what I hope is the direction of Dove and Jacoby having a mature conversation.

            “Oh God,” Lark groans.

            “Please tell me they’re not fighting.”

            Lark’s face looks strained as she looks at me. “No… Of course not. They’re just discussing something loudly….with wild hand gestures.”

            This time I’m the one to groan. “Great. This is fantastic.”

            “Not as fantastic as Jacoby’s dad bringing over the love-child.”

            My eyes grow wide and I practically shoot up into a proper sitting position. “You’re kidding.”

            Lark shakes her head and gives me an apologetic smile. “I think you’re going to be helping babysit today, Stevie.”

            I watch my best friend cautiously and debate whether to look over my shoulder or not. “Why do you say that?” I ask slowly.

            “Because Jacoby and his little girl are heading this way.”