“How do you feel about Ferris wheels?” he asks, a smirk on his face. “And eating way too much cotton candy?”
I can’t stop the grin that begins to grow. “I think I would love both of those things,” I say matter-of-factly.
“Think?”
“Can I admit something?” He nods. “Embarrassing?” He nods again. “I’ve never been to a fair before.” I shield my eyes with my hands, peeking through to see his reaction.
His eyes widen, and he pretends to be shocked. “Lucy Brooks!”
“I’m sorry,” I laugh. “My parents didn’t see the point.They said it was all too cheap and beneath us. We did other things instead.”
“Well, that changes today.” He gives the top of my head a quick peck and backs away. “I’m going to take you to the fair, where you’re going to eat a greasy corn dog, have way too much cotton candy, and then go on a ride that spins so fast it makes you sick to your stomach.”
“It’s a date.” I smile as I grab my purse off the coffee table and head down the stairs behind him.
The outfit I chose on Friday is working out well for me today, as it’s sunny but with a slight chill in the air. I’ve got my favourite pair of light-wash wide-legged jeans, white Converse, a green tank top, and a very cozy, oversized cardigan. My hair is up and out of my face in a claw clip, which I’ve learned is very helpful right at the coast, since the wind here is so strong and blows my hair every which way when it’s down and loose. Dylan is ahead of me, turning to give me a smirk as he holds the back door open for me to step outside. I can’t help but check him out in the soft black hoodie I plan on stealing later and cuffed jeans with sneakers. His hair is in a topknot, and he smells divine.
We start on the path into Killick Bay, hand in hand. “We’ll have to stop at my parents’ if that’s okay,” he says as we’re about halfway into town. “My car is parked there since there’s nowhere to park it at the lighthouse.”
“Okay, works for me. Where’s the fair?”
“It’s not far, just over in Lochport. Umm…” He pauses before continuing. “I’m not sure if my parents will be home, but if they are, it might be a bit awkward. Just warning you.”
My fingers tighten around his. “That’s okay.”
After grabbing a coffee at the Breeze Cafe, we walk another ten minutes or so until we hit a more suburban area of town. We wind down a paved street lined with cozy one-and two-storey colourful cottages with beautiful gardens until Dylan stops in front of a light blue house with a pale yellow door. His eyes dart from the driveway, where two cars are parked, to the front door.
“They’re home. And the keys are inside.” He looks back at me, fingers still laced in mine. “You can wait out here if you want.”
“I’ll stay with you,” I reply as I push onto my tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek. “We’re in this together. Always.”
“Here goes nothing,” he sighs as we make our way up the interlock path. He stands in front of the door, willing himself to knock. I give his hand one more light, reassuring squeeze, and then he brings his fist up toward the yellow wooden door and knocks three times.
We stand there, and all I can hear is the steady rhythm of our breaths and the odd car that drives down the street behind us. When the door finally creaks open, a very tall, very stern-looking man in his sixties stares out at us. He looks identical to Dylan, except his hair is cut short, and his eyes are brown, like the falling leaves around us.
“Dylan.” His deep, gravelly voice cuts through the quiet, and his dark eyes squint as he speaks.
“Dad. Nice to see you,” Dylan responds calmly, twisting the sleeve of his sweater as he stands there in front of him. “This is my girlfriend, Lucy.”
Girlfriend. I have to hold back the smile that wants to light up my face at the mention of that word for the first time from him. My mouth twitches to the side before I bring it back into a straight line. “Nice to meet you, Dylan.” I raise my hand to shake his, remembering how he and his son share the same first name.
A sour expression washes over his unimpressedface, and his arm remains down at his side. “Mr. Hart,” he retorts with a hint of disdain. Dylan’s hand moves protectively around my waist with that comment. “What are you doing here?” His eyes shift back toward Dylan, who stands right above eye level to him.
“Picking up the keys to the car. That’s all.” His dad closes the door almost all the way and grabs them, the sound of jingling metal making its way to our ears. Then his hand is out the door, dropping the car keys into Dylan’s outstretched hand.
“Thanks, Da—” The door closes shut before he can even finish saying goodbye to him.
“Well, that went about as well as I expected it to.” He looks at me and raises an eyebrow before we turn and walk over toward the driveway. Seeing the way his dad just treated him only furthers my belief that Dylan is meant to be in 2025 with me. The thought that he could be so unwanted in this time doesn’t sit right with me at all. It’s all the more reason to fight to keep him alive and bring him home.
“I love you,” I say as he leads us toward a slate-blue Toyota hatchback. He goes to my side first and unlocks the door with the key, opening it up for me to get inside. “I liked hearing you call me your girlfriend,” I add as he walks over to his own door.
“That’s what you are,” he responds as we slide into the front seats. “Now, let’s go to the fair,girlfriend.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
We make it halfway through a mix CD filled with Pearl Jam, Smashing Pumpkins, and Nirvana on the short drive to Lochport. The fairgrounds are toward the outskirts of town, and the carnival is set up in a huge farm field. I’m giddy with excitement as we drive by the entrance, and my eyes move from the biggest Ferris wheel I’ve ever seen to an intricate merry-go-round and finally to families all over, eating giant spools of powder-blue cotton candy and cherry-red candy apples.
“I want to eat everything and go on every single ride,” I say, almost bouncing up and down in my seat as Dylan looks for a place to park.
