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I smiled at her, trying to keep things light, even though I felt a familiar weight crushing my chest. Why did I even tell her that? I hadn’t even told Tyson, who was arguably the closest person in my life right now. It was embarrassing. I tucked away everything that happened during that one month break, only to drag it out now, in the middle of a carnival, with a girl I felt more drawn to than anyone I'd ever met.
"No." She dismissed my adjectives with a frown. "Real."
I laughed, thinking it was a joke.
"Seriously," Noah assured me. "Why is that funny?"
"No reason." I pressed my lips together, trying to stop laughing. I could tell from Noah's frown that wasn't the appropriate response. "You want to get your churro now?"
She lingered, trying to decide whether to press me or let me have this—her concession came in the form of a shrug, and I was both relieved and disappointed. Did I want to pour out all my secrets? No, but the idea of telling her, out of everyone I knew, seemed like it'd be freeing. Maybe I'd gotten to the point in our rivalry where I was tired of old tricks. Giving your opponent a knife and prepping them to stab you could be fun. Hot, too…if your opponent looked like Noah.
"And my hot dog," she reminded me. "I think I saw cotton candy, too."
I smiled at the sparkle in her eyes. We started walking together again, and I found myself closer than before—close enough that our arms brushed against one another now and again. My heart raced every time it happened; I felt like I was a kid again who'd realized she liked girls as much as boys. Those kinds of feelings were all-consuming. I relaxed into them, letting the budding crush take over my senses. Everything faded into the background as Noah became the only thing that mattered.
"We can get a little bit of everything," I told her once we were near the food court.
Her eyes were big, taking in the stalls like they were great works of art. "Should we wait for the others?"
I glanced at my phone. "They'll get here eventually. We might need a head start anyway. Looks like you're fixing to do some damage."
"I have to," she insisted with a grin. "This much grease and sugar is my childhood fantasy. I'm doing some serious healing tonight."
"You weren't allowed junk food as a kid?"
"My mom has had a garden since she was a teenager. She doesn't trust anything that she doesn't know where it came from. But, God, sometimes, the risk is too tempting. Especially when it involves cheese."
I laughed. "Hear hear."
We went to each stall, and Noah picked at least one thing off every menu. I became the willing caddy and the willing wallet. She protested at first, but she gave in when I said she could pay for the rides.
Our taste testing started with gator bites. Noah was hesitant to eat them and made a face while chewing.
"It's not that bad," I teased while offering her the sauce it came with.
She dipped a bite in the sauce and popped it into her mouth before pulling another face and shaking her head. "It's not but…I can't help thinking about them in lakes and ponds and the Everglades. This feels wrong and Floridian, two things I strive never to be."
"You're always going to fail on one of those aspects."
She gasped. "How dare you?"
I laughed. "What? I could have sworn you said you were born and raised here."
"I was, but I'm bigger than this state."
"I'm sure everyone thinks that."
"What about you?" She traded the Gator bites for the Cinnabon, and I tried not to stare when a hint of frosting dripped down the corner of her mouth.
I blinked. "Huh?"
"You're in Florida, but you went to the Art Center," she said. "So, if you aren't from Florida, are you from Cali?"
"I was born in Georgia. My folks moved down here when I was around eight."
She laughed. "So you're as much of a Floridian as I am."
"Hardly–" I stopped short when she offered me a bite.
