Her hand is gone from mine in an instant, suddenly fidgeting with a pin in her hair. “Sorry,” she mumbles. “It was falling.” But she doesn’t give me her hand back on the elevator ride down.
Cline and September are waiting for us by the doors, and Audrey has a smile plastered on her face by the time we reach the both of them. She extends her hand in offering, giving Cline the Auburn Tigers hat as a gift. He appears surprised for all of two seconds before finding his composure and taking it from her. The bill is broken in by the time we’ve made it to the fairgrounds, and the awkward moment in the hotel hallway is long forgotten under the sounds of kids screaming and yelling on rides. The smell of fried food hangs heavy in the air, and my stomach rumbles with want.
The sky has been light gray all day, but as night begins to fall, the clouds are drawing closer and deepening to a darker hue. The air feels thick with humidity, and my arms are coated with wetness within a few minutes of being out of the air conditioning of my car.
September has her hair pulled up into a bun, pieces escaping around her face and sticking to her forehead as she stares up at the giant Ferris wheel while Cline and I buy ride tickets. Her dress is strapless, and she’s wearing boots, effortlessly pretty and comfortable in her own skin next to Audrey who is twisting her hair into a knot and letting it go, over and over again. The difference between the two of them as they stand side by side is glaringly obvious.
I come to stand behind Audrey and lean into her ear. “Want me to put your hair up for you?” Even in the warmth of an Alabama summer, the feel of my breath on her neck causes goosebumps to arise, and instead of answering me, she pulls a ponytail holder from around her wrist and offers it to me. Her attention goes to the aluminum bracelet around her wrist again, and I wish for once she could find some semblance of calm for longer than thirty seconds.
I secure her ponytail and turn her around to face me with a smile and a nod. “Perfect. Are we going on the Ferris wheel?”
“Not a chance in hell, Elliot. But I’ll let you take me on that zero gravity ride over there.” She points to a circular ride where people are standing, but the machine is moving so fast they’re forced against the sliding wall, paralyzed. Every single rider is screaming their heads off and laughing all at once.
“I’m in,” comes September’s reply, and she takes a handful of tickets from Cline in one hand and Audrey’s palm in the other. The two girls take off, and I’m left with Cline, watching them go.
“She blew me in the shower,” he blurts out.
“What the hell, man? I don’t need to know that.” I throw a disgusted look his way and start walking after the girls.
He jogs a second to catch up, his eyes wide. “You might. See how close they are? My girl could be, like, hey Audrey, want to share a soda? And she’d be all, like, oh, yeah, let’s do that, but only one straw because we’re girls and we do weird shit like that. And then you’ll be kissing Audrey later tonight and—“
I punch him right in the arm to get him to shut up.
“Ow!” he yells.
A man walking by with an Alabama hat on just like mine tips it at me and crows, “That’s right! Roll Tide!”
“You’re wearing the wrong hat tonight,” I say and punch Cline again. He flinches and pretends like he’s going to punch me back but doesn’t follow through. Instead, he pulls me under his arm and steals my hat, running off with it over his head as he meets up with the girls waiting by the ride.
It’s started to sprinkle, and we’ve ridden five rides so far, walked the entire length of the fairgrounds, and watched a group of nine year olds tap dance in skirts bigger than my bedroom. The smile on Audrey’s face is enormous, and I can’t stop staring at her.
She’s holding a funnel cake in one hand and a custard in the other while I balance a corn dog and massive soda myself. Cline and September have gotten on the Ferris wheel, and it will be at least another ten minutes before they make it to the top and all the way back around. We head away from the lights and sounds toward the grass and rocks of a field just beyond the parameters of the fairgrounds. There’s a slight breeze as we go to sit, and Audrey’s skirt flies up, making her laugh and attempt to grab it with both of her full hands. She’s unsuccessful and ends up landing on her ass gracelessly, powdered sugar sliding from the plate onto her lap in the process.
“Figures. I’m over here trying to act like a lady, and all the elements are against me.” She shakes her fist at the sky in false anger.
“You don’t have to act like a lady,” I tell her just as I turn to look and see that she’s taken a huge bite out of the funnel cake and has white powder all over her cheeks and under her nose. “I retract that statement. Maybe trying a little bit would be helpful.”