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Rewrite the Stars

Page 13

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“Oh, we’re going to a show. Don’t worry.”

I’ve given up on ever getting them to do anything I want to do. Ethan’s come to see exactly one indie flick with me, and he looked like he’d rather scoop his eyeballs out with a spoon the entire time. But something about the way Savannah’s eyes light up has a sinking feeling hitting my gut.

We drive south for a good forty-five minutes, way out in the middle of nowhere, before I see a sign that confirms my suspicions. Jessup Brothers. We’re at the fucking carnival.

“I’m not going in there,” I say, crossing my arms as everyone else files out of the car. “You think this is funny?”

“Come on, babe,” Ethan coaxes, extending a hand to help me out with a stupid grin on his face.

“You can either take me home or I’ll call a ride.” Bailing his boss’ daughter out isn’t exactly in Thomas’ job description, but I’m sure he’d come get me if I called him.

“Look,” Ethan says, trying to soften his tone, but I hear the frustration he’s trying to hide. “We don’t have to see the Backstreet Boys or whatever they’re called…”

“Sons of Eastlake,” Sav corrects, rolling her eyes. “And speak for yourself. I’m still going to watch them.”

“Right. That. Let’s just go hit up some rides. Play some games. I’ll even win you one of those big stuffed animals.”

Knowing he’s not going to give it up, I reluctantly let him help me out of the car. He links his hand with mine, leading me toward the entrance. Sav, Chloe, and Nick are right behind us. I feel a sense of déjà vu as that sugary sweet smell hits my nostrils. It’s a different venue, but everything looks, sounds, and smells exactly the same.

“Evan. Let’s go,” Ethan says, pulling my gaze away from the Ferris wheel with the giant star in the middle.

We make our way inside the gates, passing booth after booth of games, being heckled and taunted by the attendants, before we stop at one Ethan is confident he can win. The milk bottle toss. Oversized, neon stuffed animals dangle from above, and a lanky, young guy donning smudged black eyeliner with matching chipped nail polish takes Ethan’s tickets before handing him three dingy-looking balls. Ethan tosses me a self-assured smirk, bringing his arm back before delivering a powerful throw.

But it’s not enough. The ball hits the bottle on the top of the pyramid, but they don’t fall. He tries again, this time aiming for the middle of the pyramid, but it still doesn’t work.

“Third time’s a charm,” the attendant taunts.

Ethan throttles the ball toward the bottles, but this time it doesn’t even hit the target. It bounces off the wall behind them, and Ethan curses, embarrassed.

“Give me three more,” he demands, and the carny happily obliges, taking his money.

He misses again, one, two, three more times. When he goes for more balls, I stop him.

“Give it up. Those things probably have fleas anyway,” I say, wrinkling my nose in disgust.

Reluctantly, Ethan agrees.

At the booth next to us, Nick manages to pop a balloon with a dart, and Chloe screams with excitement when she’s handed a purple monkey, hugging it tight to her chest. I chance a glance at Sav, not able to keep from chuckling when I see the daggers shooting out of her eyes.

“Green isn’t your color,” I say quietly, eliciting a glare.

We head toward the rides and I’m distracted, looking over my shoulder, expecting to see Sebastian at every turn, but he’s nowhere to be found. When we pass a tent boasting of a burlesque show, a big marquee sign that reads Vixens over the entrance, Chloe quickly shuts it down. “No. Not happening.”

“How about that?” Nick says, flicking his chin toward something behind me. I turn to see a creepy looking building with the words Fun House in crooked lettering, right above the entrance that happens to be a giant clown’s mouth. The U in Fun flickers, and I can’t help but feel a little uneasy.

“You’re not scared, are you?” Ethan asks, noticing my apprehension.

“No. Let’s go,” I say, straightening my shoulders, not waiting for a response before walking across the blacktop toward the fun house as “Highway to Hell” blares from the loud speakers. We pass the Must Be This Tall signs before handing our tickets to the attendant slumped in his chair, looking less than enthused. Turn Back Now and Enter at Your Own Risk warnings are plastered onto the walls right before we enter the clown’s mouth.

A set of stairs that slide side to side greet us, leading us into the fun house. I grip the warm metal railing to keep my balance. Nick and Ethan opt for jumping the stairs altogether. Chloe stumbles into me, laughing her thanks when I barely catch her before she goes down.

Savannah shoves past us to keep up with the guys. Chloe rolls her eyes but says nothing.

“She does it because she’s jealous, you know. She needs to feel wanted and adored. It has nothing to do with you.”

“I know,” Chloe says, her voice hushed. “I just wish she didn’t feel the need to be wanted and adored by my boyfriend.”

Guilt nags at me to tell her what I know. It’s on the tip of my tongue. But now isn’t the time. Nick assured me it wouldn’t happen again after I walked in on them at a party when Chloe was out of town. A series of drunken mistakes, no matter how much Savannah wishes it wasn’t.



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