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I was literally that hungry.
I bounced up to the van before him and grinned at the woman who’d once taught me high school geography. “Hey, Mrs. Markham. Are you selling yet?”
She turned around and gave me a toothy smile, her dark-brown eyes glittering. “I am for you, Halley. Just the one?”
“Two, but he’s paying for his own.” I jerked my head in Preston’s direction.
“And he’s not paying for yours?”
“I’d stick it up his ass before I’d let him pay.”
Preston snorted.
Angela laughed and pushed her dark hair behind her ear. “I hear you loud and clear, honey. Let me get you yours, and then I’ll see if your young man can charm me into making him one.”
“He’s not my young man,” I said at the exact moment Preston said, “I’m not her young man.”
Angela looked between us before she curled her lips into a smirk and winked at us. “Got it.”
I pursed my lips, but I said nothing as she turned and fixed my hot dog. I handed her two dollars and took my food with a smile.
Preston did the same, and after waving goodbye, we both headed in the direction of the middle of the fair.
“You’re here early,” I told him. “Nothing to do before the fair opens?”
“I thought you might need some help setting up, but when I poked my head in the tent, I saw you were all done.”
“Don’t your parents need help at their stall?”
“Nah.” He scrunched up his hot dog wrapper and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I already tried to go by there. Five people came by and asked for tickets for the kissing booth.”
I frowned. “But there aren’t tickets for the booth.”
Preston side-eyed me. “I know that. Everybody knows it. But that doesn’t stop people asking.”
“What do—” I stopped as I realized what he was saying.
Right. The girls who wanted to kiss him wanted tickets so they could get in there quickly.
He snorted. “You really don’t get along with most of the girls in this town, do you?”
I adjusted my glasses and scanned the games that promised you a goldfish if you won. “They’ve never gotten along with me. This isn’t a movie—being the mayor’s daughter isn’t always a good thing.”
“That and you’ve been attached to both Reagan and Ava since you were four-feet tall.”
“It’s not my fault Reagan is territorial. Besides, I’m not a fan of superficial people. You know as well as I do that in this town, money is everything, and what you do with it is even more important.”
In Creek Falls, you fell into one of two categories: you had money, or you didn’t. I fell into the former thanks to a couple of generations of my family running the town and being good with money. I had no intention of being mayor, so the Dawson reign of terror would end with my father.
Unfortunately, the money thing pretty much ruled the town. I didn’t care about it, which meant I wasn’t quite good enough for the other ‘rich girls’ to bother with—the same ones who were now all over Preston like flies on shit.
In fact, flies didn’t even like shit that much.
I guess shit didn’t have a large bank account or a future windfall.
Preston grunted. “That’s why everyone wants a ticket for me.”
“Well, if it makes you feel better, I don’t.”
“Good to know. Has anyone asked you for tickets?”
“No. Everyone knows we don’t do tickets.” I tossed my hot dog wrapper in the trash can and turned toward the Ferris wheel that towered over the whole fair. “I guess nobody wants to kiss me half as much as they want to kiss you.”
He slid me a look but didn’t say a word. Instead, he did as I had and put his hot dog wrapper in the trash. I waited for a second longer for him to speak, but he didn’t.
And that was that.
Neither of us said another word.
***
“I hereby declare the Creek Falls summer fair… Open!” My father stood on the makeshift wooden stage and cut a shiny red ribbon that was inexplicably stretched across it.
Everyone who was going to the fair was already here, at the stage where the talent show would be on the final night.
It was a stupid-ass tradition.
Still, everyone cheered like it was the greatest thing in the world. Like he’d just opened a new hospital or the Empire State building or something.
I rolled my eyes and headed back in the direction of the kissing booth. It was a miracle that I managed to get through the crowd unscathed, but somehow, I did.
I was not at all surprised to find a line already forming outside the kissing booth tent.
Nope.
In fact, if Reagan or Ava were around, I’d have probably bet money on that. And I’d have won, just like I always did.
I scooted past the entire line until I reached the front. Preston was nowhere to be found. I wished I could say that I was surprised about it, but I just wasn’t.
