Part 28 (1/2)

Jess The coaster roars past our place in line and we watch the people scream as they're dropped down a small set of hills and dips.

”Girl, do you ever make up for lost time. After that last ride, I'm not at all psyched to get on this again.”

I laugh at Gray's pained expression. ”Last time. Swear. Then I'll do the Pirate Boat, even though it's just a big, fancy, baby swing. Deal?”

”Done. But stop making fun of my favorite ride.” He steps closer from behind and grabs me around the waist gently.

I smile and lean back against him, loving the way he feels so strong and solid.

We'd ridden all the bigger rides in the park and every coaster at least twice. ThunderRoad, the one we're lined up for now, is best because of the creaking sound the wood structure makes as the cars fly down the tracks.

My least favorite ride so far is the Chicken Drop. A three story, rectangular metal coop that draws about twenty-five riders up and up in a metal cage.

Up means, two hundred feet WAY up. All while chickens cluck in the speakers by your ears every second.

At the top, a whiny farmer voice screeches, ”Everyone knows chicken's can't fly! Good luck cluckers!” The entire coop is then released into a free fall device that catches all the screaming, half dead, heart attacked chickens back down at the bottom. But not until it's flipped you upside down and dropped hay on your head.

Gray, who'd known full well how terrible that ride was, had laughed at my pasty faced, unable-to-walk reaction afterwards. But he'd also taken me to a bench and held me, wrapped in his arms until I stopped threatening to murder him.

The ride had sucked, but the time on that bench had quite possibly been the best twenty minutes of my life. Until the next best twenty minutes happened, that is.

And the twenty after that.

And this moment right now.

Because he's just pulled me closer and whispered, ”Jess...do you know how amazing you smell?” using that voice.

He'd also spent over forty dollars determinedly throwing softb.a.l.l.s at metal milk containers until he'd won me a giant, bright blue orangutan! We'd met up with Mich.e.l.le and Corey at the Burrito Barn for lunch. Mich.e.l.le had been happily toting the green version of my same orangutan. Her smile had been as wide as mine. Gotta love the boardwalk games. So fun.

After we ate, Gray had transported the stuffed animals to the minivan so we didn't have to lug them around. And, after a few rides with Corey and Mich.e.l.le, we'd split up again, promising to meet at the gate at eight to head home.

Gray's only humoring me on this coaster because I told him I want to try the front seats and he agreed I should have that chance. I've never felt so spoiled and happy.

I vote this date is better than hiking, or the roller skating date. Mostly because, all day long, I've let myself buy into the idea that Gray and I could really be in love.

The fact that we've both said it has made this day simply perfect.

For today. Only for today. I'd said that too. I hope he listened.

To remind myself that this is all just temporary-an event with a time stamp and a price-I'd kept Gray's four-thousand dollar check in the little green bag I'm wearing. I try to look at the check after each ride. To keep things in perspective. The guy is getting paid. I'm paying the guy. That's what's happening here today. And that's all.

It's our turn. After a few cycles, we're allowed into the first row seats. Gray draws down the safety bar over our knees. He takes my hand and squeezes it next to his chest, acting like he's holding onto it for dear life. ”Why do you have to adore the most terrifying ride in this park?”

I laugh, enjoying the fact that his face is slowly turning pale and we haven't started moving. ”It's not half as scary as the upside down coaster,” I say.

What I'm really thinking, though, is that this ride is not half as scary as staring into his eyes right how. Because, by the look on his face, when this day is over, I'm probably going to hurt him. A lot. I'd never meant to get close enough to this guy to do that.

”This coaster is waaaaay worse,” he argues, unaware of my turmoil. ”The upside down one is made out of pure, strong and silent metal. ThunderRoad terrifies me, because it reminds me every second that it was made in 1936 out of soft, breakable, burnable, bug-eatable, rickety WOOD. You know that at any second, part of it might shatter? That could send us tumbling down to our deaths? Not to mention, it was built before there were any sort of proper safety codes.”

”I'm sure they have those codes in place now,” I say, frowning a little.

We stare at the empty stretch of track ahead of us.

Rusty track.

”Oh G.o.d. I hate the front row. You are so going to owe me.” He swallows as the *stay in your seats at all times' announcement plays on the loudspeaker.

A long bell sounds, followed by an odd, 1936-sounding clunk!

The coaster cars release and they click-clack slowly around the first corner. The front connects to an odd pulley mechanism that hauls the weight of the coaster up the first and largest hill. That's when I, the fearless coaster crusader, start to lose my nerve.

”This pulley contraption seems to have been made hundreds of years ago, not just in 1936,” I say. ”What do you think?”

I can tell by Gray's face he thinks I'm teasing him. ”c.r.a.p! Did you have to say that now? Relentless, cruel girlfriend!”

We both reach for each other's hands as though this were our last moment on earth.

The old chain has yank-click-yanked us all the way to the top of the first, huge drop. Gray puts his head on my shoulder and closes his eyes and says, ”I want you to know if we die right now, I won't be able to distinguish if I've made it to heaven or not, because I'm already sitting here with you. Like this.”

Before I can accuse him of finding that line on the Internet, we whoosh down the huge hill. Everyone's screaming, including me. We fly into the next set of hills and turns.

Gray points to the huge looking moon rising over the sea of suburban houses in the distance. Too soon, the ride shoots us into the long mine shaft tunnel that marks the end.

Gray finally relaxes the death grip he's had on my hand. I love when he doesn't let go completely as we get off the ride. When we step out of the exit, the amus.e.m.e.nt park sparkles in the twilight. And still, he's holding my hand.

Every tree, bush and ride structure has been strung with a zillion small lights. I feel strange. I'm happy, inside and out. It's a feeling I haven't had in a very long time. And it's real-every bit of it. If only I could have it for keeps.

I look at Gray through my lashes as we walk along the lit pathways.

How does he make everything seem so easy. So possible?

I waver on my breakup plan, wondering, imagining that I could truly be with this guy. As his girlfriend. Would he truly be okay with my random panic-attacks? Would he be patient and wait for me when I sleep in my car during and after school? Would he get bored, or annoyed if I could never change that? Aren't couples supposed to eat lunch together and hang out, and both be awake? Would his friends notice or catch on-make fun of me? Would I care about any of it if Gray was by my side? Defending me? Loving me? What if I'm wrong? Am I giving up too soon-failing both of us-without even trying, like Mich.e.l.le said?

”Do you want to rest?” he asks. ”I know you're running out of steam. Maybe we should call Mich.e.l.le and Corey and meet up a bit early? We've done everything there is to do.”

”Not everything,” I say, pulling him along, scanning the signs that mark the way around the park. ”I still haven't seen the Fairy Gardens.”

He skids his feet and pulls me to a stop. His expression is tense, and he can't hold my gaze. ”Jess. I-we need to talk.”

”We will. But first, I think... I want to, um, yeah.” I bite my lower lip and nod my head. ”I definitely need to kiss you. Soon. In the Fairy Gardens.”

Determined not to let him back out of this, I drag him through the tree-lined entrance. ”Do you want to? You know? Kiss me?”

Chapter Thirty-Three.

Gray ”I want to kiss you more than anything.”