"Carlie, don't be like that. I want to have a fun day with you. It'll get better. Promise."
I tried to smile but the shine of the day disappeared. I wasn't sure if I could get that back. He put his arm around me, though.
We paid to go into the carnival and headed for the rides. At least we'd be safe once we got on a ride. No one could interrupt us or take photos.
“Rollercoaster?” Holden grinned extra bright as though that could fix things.
We got into the carriage and the attendant came over to check the fastenings.
"Are you Holden King?" she asked. "I love you."
Luckily, the ride started before she could gush any more. I just hope she wasn't too star-struck to do her job probably because it'd sure be bad for Holden's image if we got flung to our deaths at a carnival.
The carriage clacked its way up the tracks and my stomach clenched. As we paused at the top, I grabbed Holden's hand. He squeezed tight. Really tight. Scared as fuck.
As we flew down, his face turned white as chalk. Ha, that wasn't even a big drop.
"Scared?" I asked.
"Nope."
"Liar."
We climbed for the next drop and he gripped me so tight, I thought he'd cut off the blood supply to my fingers. I screamed on the way down, the fun coming back to me.
When the ride finished, Holden put his arm around me again. I think it was more to support his trembling legs than to be near me.
"That was fun," I said. "Let's go again."
"Or not."
"Party pooper."
We looked for something tamer for Holden to enjoy.
"Shooting gallery. I'll win you a big stuffed toy."
Even with the dodgy way they set those things up, Holden would win. He always won. It'd been his special skill before he ever started singing.
"And what the hell would I do with it? We'd have to carry it around all day then it'd sit in the corner of my room gathering dust. I'd feel like I couldn't throw it out but I'd resent the fuck out of it. Why don't they have useful shit on those things instead of crappy stuffed teddy bears?"
Holden laughed. "You never change, do you?"
No, but you do. That's what I thought but I didn't say it. This Holden who was nice to annoying freaks and thought too much about his image, he wasn't the guy I'd known.
Since we were near the shooting, I looked at the prizes, meaning to make fun of them. I noticed a tacky plastic ring on the stands. The sort of thing they give kids when they totally suck.
"Win me that," I said. "Win me the ring."
I knew Holden couldn't do it. He couldn't lose on purpose any more than I could, but he walked up to the seedy old man and slapped his money down.
He shot three times and missed each time.
The old guy laughed and grabbed the gun back.
"Wait, I want my prize."
"No prize for losing, mate."