“Brooklyn, I hate heights.” I groaned. “Besides, shouldn’t we—”
“I told you, they’refine.” He extended his hand to me. “Now, come on. I got you.”
I glanced over his shoulder at the creaking metal monstrosity. I had to admit, it looked pretty with all the lights decorating it, just starting to give off a glow against the darkening sky.
So I took his hand, and he didn’t let go.
The line moved quickly, and before I could catch my breath, we were loaded onto one of the cold metal seats, slowly swaying back and forth with our legs dangling over the side. I felt the weight of Brooklyn’s arm gently draped over my shoulder, and let myself unwind a little. He was warm and comfortable and everything a person should be.
My stomach churned at every creaking lurch, forward and upward higher into the sky. When we reached the top, the wheel groaned to a stop again, the chair still gently swinging.
“Jeez.” I sighed. I kept my eyes down, intently focused on a chip in the red paint of the metal chair.
“See? It’s fine,” Brooklyn said. “It’s totally fine. Look around. It’s actually really nice up here.”
After a few deep breaths, I glanced up and out at the world in front of us. Night had taken over, and all the lights from below were nothing more than little specks of color against the dark. A salty breeze blew in from the ocean, and even though I knew it was right below us, it sounded far, far away. It was quiet. A peaceful, honest quiet that I didn’t realize I needed until that moment. But after a few seconds, I realized we were still perched at the top, our chair slowly swaying back and forth.
“I told you nothing was going to happen.”
I glanced over at Brooklyn.
“You went through all this trouble just to say I told you so?” I jabbed him in the side.
He sighed and rubbed his hand down the side of his face, his forehead glistening with sweat. “No. Not really, anyway.”
He held my hand delicately, interlacing his fingers between mine. With the colorful lights of the fair dotting Brooklyn’s face in blues and whites and reds, and all the noise from below so far away I could hear his heartbeat as it thumped against his chest, I think I finally accepted how much I actually liked him. And despite all the warnings and all the unspoken rules, I think he liked me too. I was not a rule breaker by nature, but for him, I might have been.
Even though I was afraid of being up so high, all I wanted to do was fly.
“Then what is it? Tell me,” I whispered into the night.
I didn’t realize how close we already were until he reached up and brushed a lock of hair that had fallen out of my braid away from my face. The accumulation of all the subtle touches and lingering glances of the past few weeks led to this moment, with the moon lighting up his eyes and our lips so close I could practically taste his vanilla ChapStick. He pressed his thumb against my chin and tilted my head up to look at him. His lips grazed against mine, so soft and subtle that I second-guessed if it even happened.
“I’ve thought about kissing you all night,” he whispered, his breath hot against my skin. “Can I?”
My heart careened into my throat, and I knew words would be useless. Instead, I leaned in and answered him the only way I could. I answered the call of the void, and I kissed him.
His hand moved up my neck, leaving little trails of heat everywhere he touched. He found the side of my face and gingerly pulled at my chin, begging me to let him in, and I felt myself completely unravel.
My first kiss had been nothing like this. My first kiss was in a closet in the eighth grade, with Joey DelVecchio, who played soccer and always smelled like grass. It was awkward and tasted like soda and sour cream and onion chips. But this? If I could go back in time, I would give up every kiss I ever had with anyone just so this could be my first. He was the sweetest thing I’d ever tasted, and I knew I’d be craving him long afterward.
We finally pulled apart, and I gasped for air as my heart threatened to explode in my chest.
“Wow,” he whispered softly.
“I hope that’s a good wow,” I whispered back, still trying to catch my breath.
“It’s a good wow. A very good wow.”
Suddenly the Ferris wheel lurched forward with a loud creak and began moving again. I had answered the call of the void, and I’d jumped—but he was there to catch me.
June 15
Hey Dad,
I did something reckless tonight.
We went to the state fair—Brooklyn, his sister, his friend, Alec, Nikki, me. I remember going with you once, when Nikki and I were really young, and the only reason I remember it so well is because you and I snuck off to get one of those giant buckets of half-baked cookies and ate almost the entire thing ourselves, and I got sick on the car ride home. Mom was so pissed.
