“No.”
“But he’s so great!” another girl squeals.
With my blood still pulsing like crazy, I turn to stare at him as he gets a photo taken with the birthday girl. “Yup, he sure is.” I try not to think about what’ll happen when this day’s over.
When Jesse gives up his love, his music.
When I go back to my life in Franklin.
He looks up from signing an autograph and grins. It’s a smile just for me.
Suddenly, I get the feeling this doesn’t have to be a one-day thing. That maybe the best day ever can develop into a lot more. Maybe it can become a life where I’m friends with Jesse Scott, where I can sing solos on a regular basis, where I can take chances.
I’m going to work for it.
Story of My Life
Neither of us is ready for our day to end.
When Jesse’s sick of schmoozing with the girls (only five minutes later), he gets the boat captain to make a special detour to drop us off at a dock near his motorcycle. The girls wave at us from the deck of the Belle Carol as the captain toots the horn.
Jesse hooks an arm around my waist. “Now what? Dinner?”
A text from Dave says he and Xander are heading over to the Coffee County Fair. It only comes once a year, and I usually go waste my money on the Ferris wheel and bumper cars. I also like to check out the biggest pumpkin contest and the mule races. And it could be another chance to help Jesse feel normal!
His phone rings right then. He pulls it from his pocket and checks the screen. His eyes grow wide as he answers. “Hey, Dad.”
The hope disappears from his eyes as he listens. I can hear the shouting. I hear the words “motorcycle” and “riding around town” and “blond floozy.”
At that word, Jesse steals a horrified glance at me before darting several feet away. Did his dad really just refer to me as a floozy? I bite down on my lip.
When Jesse hangs up, he lets out a long sigh and looks up at the dark sky.
“You all right?” I ask.
He shrugs, and we just stand here awkwardly. I have no idea what to do. Is Jesse okay? He doesn’t look okay.
“Want to hit up the fair? I’m craving a funnel cake,” I say, scared because his dad insulted me. I know Jesse wants to make nice with his parents, but I hope he doesn’t compromise by ending our day.
Jesse’s eyes darken. “I used to go to the fair with my parents when I was little.”
I wrap an arm around his side. “I have an idea. Let’s invite Dr. Salter and Mr. Logan to meet us.”
Your true family.
• • •
At the fairgrounds, we walk through cakey mud to the entrance. The smells of corndogs and popcorn and funnel cakes waft through the cool night air. Lights from the Ferris wheel and booths brighten the inky sky.
We see Dr. Salter and Mr. Logan in front of the arts and crafts booth before they see us. The publicists, Gina and Tracy, are with Mr. Logan, and Jesse’s manager and uncle are going on and on about something, hands flailing around. Jesse throws me this pompous knowing grin as we walk up.
My principal gives me the look he saves for kids who get high behind the woodshop at school. “Maya Henry, you have two weeks of detention.”
Mom and Dad will kill me. “I might want to rejoin the show choir.”
Dr. Salter smiles. “Okay, but you still have two weeks of detention.”
“But not tonight, right?”
“No, not tonight.”
Then Mr. Logan and Dr. Salter are all over Jesse about our afternoon. He tells them everything. Dr. Salter seems nervous that the press took pictures of us jumping around in a fountain and is worried about repercussions of us running from the horse cop. He’s worried the school board will cancel shadow day going forward. Mr. Logan and the publicists think it’s all great, of course, because any press is good. And my principal does seem pleased that Jesse is smiling. I was worried after the call with his parents, but he seems okay.
“You wore a suit to the fair?” Jesse teases Mr. Logan.
Mr. Logan adjusts his gold watch and ignores Jesse. “What’s first?”
“Funnel cake, then the Tilt-A-Whirl.”
Later, the four of us do bumper cars, and Jesse keeps ramming us. Mr. Logan yells at him when his gelled hair gets messed up, which makes Jesse laugh so hard he snorts. Then we all ride the teacups and the Ferris wheel.
Jesse and I slide into the seat together, and the fair worker secures the bar in front of us. My shoulder nestles against Jesse’s, and he looks over at me. His hand grabs mine as the wheel soars toward the sky.