Blindness

Jessie and Gabe are long gone, probably joining in on the scaring fun, making others cry for help, no doubt. I’m clinging to Cody like a frightened kitten, wishing I could get closer to him and drown out the sounds. I feel his arm shift, and I panic that he’s trying to push me from him. He doesn’t; instead, he reaches around to the back of my head, pushing my face into his chest, and pulling his jacket up to protect me and hide my eyes.

I can feel his pace pick up, and I just let him guide me the rest of the way through. He steps quickly to the side, and I follow. I’m relieved when I hear a door squeak open and once again recognize the softer sounds we were hearing outside. Cody pulls me over to a bench and sits me down, then kneels in front of me.

“Charlie, are you okay? God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you’d get so scared,” he says, holding both of his hands to my cheeks and tucking my hair behind my ears. I let go of squeezing my eyes shut and open them to see Cody looking right back at me. He isn’t laughing. He isn’t even smiling. He’s just focused on me, and my fear—and making it better. I take a deep breath and reach up to grab his hands.

“I’m okay. I’m okay,” I say, moving to stand. He stands with me and puts his hand under my chin.

“Are you sure?” he’s so worried. And as much as I NEVER want to set foot inside that barn again, I wouldn’t trade the way Cody’s looking at me afterward for anything. I just gulp and nod, unable to speak. He pulls me in for a hug and holds my head to his chest for a full minute before he lets go, and I’m pretty sure I could sleep standing up if it were in his arms.

“We should find Gabe and Jessie,” he says, sliding his hand down my arm and grabbing hold of my fingers. It’s clear he isn’t letting go again.

We find Gabe and Jessie at a lemonade stand, and it’s cute to watch them from a distance. They’re sharing a drink, and even after knowing each other for so long, their love seems so young and new.

“How long have they been dating?” I ask Cody.

He smiles at first, then laughs softly to himself. “Pretty much off and on since the sixth grade. She’s in every school dance picture with Gabe, minus prom—she went to that with me,” he says. I must not hide my jealous response well, because he starts to laugh when he looks at me. “Not as my girlfriend. They weren’t dating at the time, and my date had just dumped me. She felt bad.”

“Oh,” I swallow hard, embarrassed that Cody noticed my green streak. “That was nice of her, though…I can’t really see you getting dumped. Are you sure it wasn’t the other way around?”

Cody’s face gets suddenly serious, and we stop walking. “I’m sure. I was in the chair for six months after my accident, and Kyla, my ex-girlfriend? She just wasn’t up for all that.”

“Hey, man, that was awesome,” Cody leaves me and starts talking to Gabe suddenly, clearly wanting to leave the conversation we were having. I touched on something, and I can tell it was uncomfortable for Cody, something he probably prefers to keep buried, and I get that—probably more than most.

“You okay?” Jessie asks, sliding up next to me, and offering me a drink of some frozen lemon thing.

“Oh, thanks. I’m good. Yeah, that was a little intense,” I gesture to the barn. “I’m sort of a wimp.”

She laughs, and then throws an arm over my shoulder, dragging me to a section filled with rides and carnival games. “Girl, that shit’s scary as hell. I laugh the entire time so I don’t pee myself. You’re not a wimp. You made it through,” she says, slapping down a dollar for a set of three balls. She throws them at a stack of jars and knocks down every single one. The guy hands her a giant stuffed monkey, and she pushes it back at him, scrunching her face. “Just give me the little one. I don’t have room for that thing.”

Jessie tosses the tiny monkey holding a heart to Gabe and blows a kiss in the air. He hugs it like a little boy and rolls his eyes at her, laughing. “I’m gonna marry him someday, you know,” she says, chewing on a stick of gum, and holding out her hand with the pack for me. I take one, hoping it will calm my nerves.

“Yeah? You two are pretty great together,” I say. She looks right at me then, and nods.

“We are. It took awhile, growing up. But we were always great,” she says, turning back to watch her man throw darts—and miss everything, not just the balloons. I feel her arm slip through mine and squeeze, and I can tell I just won a level of approval—and maybe a new friend.