Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 98789 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98789 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Actually, I didn’t care where we were going. Dashiel Buckley had picked me up in his car and we were going somewhere together that was not the E.R. Everything about this was amazing.
“So my dad took off on a mysterious road trip,” he said.
“Oh yeah? To see Julia?”
“That’s what Xander and I assume. His note mentioned visiting a friend in Tennessee.”
“Sweet old George. I hope he has fun.”
“Me too. But I hope he realizes he can tell us what’s going on. We’d all be happy for him.”
“He might just need a little more time to come to terms with it himself, you know?”
“Yeah,” Dash said slowly. “That’s a good point.”
“He’s been alone a long time, and probably not because he wanted to be. He did it out of respect and love for your mom. And getting beyond the past can take a lot of emotional work.”
“True.” He glanced over at me. “And speaking of the past.”
“Oh, God. What?”
“I found my senior year high school yearbook this morning.”
Covering my face, I groaned. “Don’t tell me. I wrote something embarrassing in it.”
“It wasn’t embarrassing. It was sweet. I don’t remember ever seeing it before.”
“That is because you paid zero attention to me in those days, Dash. Meanwhile, I had the crush of the century on you.” Sighing, I shook my head, dropping my hands into my lap. “So what did I write?”
“You thanked me for being like a big brother. You wished me luck in L.A. and told me not to forget anyone back home.”
I laughed and pointed to my chest. “Meaning me.”
“And you wrote you had more to tell me but you couldn’t. Maybe someday, you said.”
“Maybe someday I will appear in your bedroom and offer myself up as a parting gift,” I joked. “But you will not want this gift, so perhaps you should start locking your bedroom door.”
“Are you kidding? Of course, I wanted the gift. You were sixteen and hot as fuck.”
“What!” I shrieked. “You said you thought of me like a little sister and didn’t have those feelings for me!”
“Ari, you weren’t even legal,” he pointed out. “You’d never had sex before. We were in my dad’s house, and my sister was sleeping down the hall. Believe me, I tried to reason away all those things, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t be that guy.” He glanced at me. “No matter how much I wanted to.”
“I guess that makes me feel a little better,” I said, the past rearranging itself slightly in my head. “I was convinced you turned me down because I wasn’t pretty or sexy enough for you.”
“I was just trying to be a good guy.”
“Your dad raised you right, Dashiel Buckley.” Grinning, I reached over and patted his leg. “I should really take those devil horns off your headshot.”
“After last night, maybe you should leave them.” Then he reached for the volume on the stereo and turned it up.
Fifteen minutes later, we were still in the middle of nowhere. “Where on earth are we going to dinner around here?” I asked when Dash turned off the highway.
He smiled. “Your first clue is coming up.”
That’s when I spotted the Ferris wheel. As we got closer, I saw a Superloop and Zipper against the blue sky. Then a sign for the Spring Carnival appeared, directing cars to turn right for parking. When Dash turned right, I clapped my hands. “Are we going to the carnival?”
“I wanted you to have your favorites today. Funnel cakes and corn dogs, right?”
“Don’t forget deep-fried junk food on a stick,” I said gleefully. “This is a perfect way to celebrate. Thank you!”
Dash paid for parking and we found a spot. After we got out of the car, he tugged a baseball cap on his head and slipped on a pair of sunglasses, making himself less recognizable. And while part of me liked the idea that people would see us together and look at me with envy—if Dashiel Buckley likes her, she must be someone—another part wanted him all to myself.
We walked across the matted grass and weeds toward the fairgrounds. “I didn’t think about getting dirty,” he said, looking at the dust already collecting on my black pants. “Is this okay?”
“Are you kidding? I don’t care about a little dirt.” I inhaled the scent of fried dough, grilled hot dogs, and fresh popcorn. Music from the carousel drifted toward us, punctuated by screams from riders on the Superloop or Zipper. Colorful neon signs and strings of party lights glowed in the afternoon sun. I twirled in circles, arms out, face to the sky. “This is the best day ever!”
He laughed at my exuberance. “I’m glad.”
After Dash bought us wristbands, we decided to hit all the thrill rides first. He was recognized every time we waited in line and sometimes as we walked from one attraction to the next, gamely posing for selfies and signing everything from phone cases to popcorn boxes. After about an hour, we wandered over to the food stands and got some dinner—cheesesteak for Dash and a corn dog for me, a basket of fried pickles to share, and a couple cans of Vernor’s. We carried everything over to a picnic table inside the tent and managed to eat without being approached by fans.