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“That was embarrassing,” I practically groan in shame.
Cordelya laughs, and we continue to walk.
We wander from booth to booth, collecting a mixture of victories and losses at each of the games that we play. I soak in every smile and every laugh, tucking them away like precious treasures. Equally, I note every time she scans the crowd, each exit she clocks as we pass.
Sometime later, we stop at the strongman game, where I try and fail to flex my muscles.
The moment I pick up the mallet, I know I have bitten off more than I can chew. It has been nearly a month since I’ve been able to fully consume a blood smoothie. In my weakened state, I am in jeopardy of toppling over under the mallet’s hefty weight.
Not wanting to let on how depleted I’m truly feeling, I muster every last ounce of strength I have to lift the hammer back and swing it over my head.
The damn thing barely makes it to halfway, mocking me further.
After my embarrassing attempt to flex, we finally stumble on the food booths.
Steak on a stick, potato torpedoes, corndogs, and all manner of other tasty fried treats assault my senses and have my mouth watering.
Cordelya’s eyes practically roll back into the back of her head as she takes a deep inhale.
“Everything smells so good.”
“No kidding. I don’t think I realized how hungry I am until I smelled all this food.”
“Same. What do you want?” she asks, still taking in all of our options.
I follow her gaze, trying to decide which of the incredible foods we should go for.
“What if you get one thing, I get another, and we share?”
“I love that.”
Cordelya ends up with a steak kebab and potato torpedo, while I go for bar-b-que brisket loaded nachos. I grab two extra plates from the nacho stand, then find us a seat at one of the picnic tables. Setting the plates down, I divide up the food and slide one plate over to Cordelya.
As we eat, we chat about the different rides we want to go on and watch as people pass by. Kallie and Evren stop to say hello on their way to the ferris wheel, both saying how fun it was to have Cordelya join us for trivia night and hoping she comes back. When we finish, we resume our stroll through the grounds until we hear the unmistakable sound of loud thuds followed by retro electronic melodies.
Cordelya’s face lights up as she tugs me through the crowd. When we reach the skee-ball machines, she’s practically vibrating with excitement. I drop coins into the slot, and the machine comes to life, lights and music blaring as the wooden balls drop with a loud clack on the right-hand side of the cork lane.
She picks up a ball, closes her eyes, and presses it to her chest. She smiles softly before opening her eyes and taking a position in front of the lane.
Her arm draws back.
She leans forward as if throwing a pitch.
Her arm comes forward, the ball seeming to float from her hand to the lane.
Up it races before vaulting off the bottom lip and sinking into the one-hundred-point ring.
“Nice!” I shout, clapping wildly.
She repeats the process over and over again. Each ball finds its home in either the fifty or one-hundred-point rings. Tickets shoot out of the dispenser like a geyser.
When her time is up and there are no more balls to throw, there’s a small mountain of tickets at my feet. But what catches my attention is the utter joy on Cordelya’s face as she looks at me with a truly carefree smile.
She throws herself into my arms, laughing joyously, “That was so fun.”
I press her to me, letting her caramel and pear scent wash over me with her happiness.
“You killed that, Moonlight! Look at all the tickets you got,” I say, gesturing at the pile at our feet.
