“Don’t touch me. I’m gross,” I say, laying my forehead against my arm on top of the gate.
“This is nothing. Eros puked on me last week. Nothing is worse than drunk, grown-ass man vomit.”
I laugh, despite the situation.
“You good?” Sebastian asks, and I realize that I am. I don’t feel sick at all.
“I feel fine, actually,” I say, straightening.
“It’s normal. Adrenaline rush will get you every time. Once you puke, you’re golden.” He walks over to one of the trucks parked in the dirt and pops open a cooler on the tailgate before tossing an ice-cold water bottle my way.
“Thanks,” I say, opening the bottle. I rinse my mouth, then spit it out—because any hopes of exhibiting decorum are long gone—before chugging the whole thing like a frat boy. Mother would be so proud. “I should go,” I say, as the embarrassment of what just happened starts to set in.
He doesn’t respond, so I round the side of the tent, quickly making my way through the sea of people. I think I’ve had enough excitement for one night. Like a reverse Cinderella, it’s time to go back to my pristine palace. Or hotel room.
It’s dark now, making the carnival feel more alive than it did just half an hour ago. The Ferris wheel glows brightly in the night sky, and I gravitate toward it. This place is magic.
Maybe I could stay for just a little while longer…
I shouldn’t press my luck—I was already nearly thrown out once—but I decide to let my rebellious streak last a little longer. I wander down the row of games and hanging stuffed animals, taking in the intoxicating mixture of fried and sweet foods. A group of teenagers hang on each other, laughing, as one of their friends continuously misses the bottle he’s trying to knock over with a ball. A young girl with brown pigtails is handed a giant pink unicorn. She smiles brightly while her sister jealously pouts next to her.
“Hey!” a voice yells from somewhere behind me. I spin around to see Sebastian walking toward me, but he’s intercepted by a group of screaming fans who want his autograph. Preteen girls snap pictures with their phones, and little kids thrust pens and pads of paper in his face to sign. He looks at them, then back at me. I can see he doesn’t want to stop, but he doesn’t want to let them down either. I give him a shrug with an apologetic smile before I turn back around. What does he want from me, anyway? I already thanked him for saving my ass. Right before throwing up on him.
Once at the Ferris wheel, I crane my neck to admire the beauty in its entirety. It’s so much bigger up close than I thought it would be, with a giant, glittering star flashing in the middle. People line up, handing tickets to the ride attendant, and I’m guessing I’d need a wristband in order to buy a ticket. Not to mention, I’m not the biggest fan of heights, and I don’t have any cash on me. I have nothing but my dad’s platinum card, my license, my room key, and the flyer stuffed inside my tiny purse. Living vicariously through them will have to do.
“There you are.” I jump at the proximity of those words. They’re close to my ear and send chills down my bare arms.
“You must be a big deal,” I say, spinning around, leaning my elbows on the fence that marks the line to the Ferris wheel, referring to his adoring fans. He just shrugs, pulling out a box of cigarettes before lighting one up. I look around, waiting for someone to tell him to put it out, but no one says a word.
“People are drawn to train wrecks. It’s human nature. They can’t help it.”
“You’re a wreck?”
“That’s the understatement of the century,” he says, good-naturedly, but I sense there’s some truth underneath his flippant comment.
“Well, Train Wreck, I’m Hot Mess. Nice to meet you.”
Sebastian chuckles, and I zero in on his mouth, noticing a half-moon scar under the corner of his lip. I wonder what happened. “I very much doubt that,” he says, fingering the bottom of my dress with two fingers. My stomach flips and flutters at his touch. “In fact, puking aside, I’d bet you’re squeaky clean.”
“Only on the outside,” I say, rolling my eyes. One of Sebastian’s dark, thick eyebrows quirks up, surprised, and I feel my cheeks heat at how unintentionally suggestive that sounded. In reality, I meant my image may be squeaky clean—as that’s what’s expected of me—but if you pulled back the curtains, you’d see the real me. I only let people see what I want them to see.
“Going up?” he asks, gesturing toward the wheel in the sky.
“Another time.” I shrug. “I don’t think my stomach can handle it right now anyway.”
“Seb!” a voice yells from my right. I look over to see Eros lumbering toward us. “Let’s go. We’re gonna check that place out tonight,” he says, keeping it vague while cutting his eyes at me.
“Ready to have some real fun?” Sebastian asks me, as if being inside the Globe of Death is child’s play in comparison.
“I don’t think I’ll ever be ready for your idea of fun.” I laugh. “I need to get back to my hotel anyway.” I know if I pulled my phone out of my pocket and turned it on, I’d find about three hundred missed calls and text messages from my mom and dad. The anger has faded, and the guilt has started to creep in, but I shove it back down.
“Come with us. I’ll give you a ride back,” he coaxes with a glint in his eye. Eros smirks, waiting for my response.
“Screw it.” I’m already grounded for the rest of eternity. Might as well make it worth it. The words are barely out of my mouth before Eros lunges for me, throwing me over his broad shoulder.
“Hey!” I yell, trying to cover my butt and lifting my head to look to Sebastian for help, but I get none. He shakes his head at Eros’ antics as I’m carried out toward the dirt lot near where I snuck in.
When Eros finally sets me down, I see the two other riders from earlier perched on their bikes, impatient expressions plastered on their faces. They don’t look too happy to see me either.