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Me: Get Harleigh out of here before Cherri spots her.
Zane: Me?
Me: Who else?
Zane: I knew coming here was a bad fucking idea.
Me: Yeah, well, it’s too late for that. Just… get rid of Harleigh.
Zane: Fine. But you owe me.
“Problem?” Cherri glanced down at my cell phone. I shoved it in my pocket and slung my arm around her shoulder.
“Just the guys giving me shit.”
We joined the line for the Ferris Wheel and Cherri droned on about her assessment of the first week of senior year. Who was hooking up with who, who had gotten fat or dropped a few pounds over summer, who had gotten hot. She was almost as superficial as the girls across the reservoir at DA. Same shallow judgments, just a different set of measures.
“Are you listening?” She nudged me as I searched the fair for Zane… and Harleigh. But I couldn’t see them from all the way over here, the crowd was too dense.
“Uh, yeah.”
“So you’ll… to Homecoming with me?”
“Homecoming?” I balked. I wasn’t going to fucking Homecoming, with Cherri or anyone else.
“Yeah. You know you’ll be crowned King, right? And chances are, me or Hope will be Queen. We have to go.”
“School dances aren’t really my thing, Cher,” I said, relieved as fuck that we were next in line.
The attendant took our tickets and pointed at the car he wanted us to sit in.
“Come on.” I strode over to it and climbed in, leaving Cherri to fend for herself.
“Nice, asshole.” She glowered, tucking herself into my side. She even went as far as to lift my arm over her shoulder.
The music pierced the air, drowning out her words, her fucking plans for the dance. But it wasn’t until the ride started and the balmy air whooshed past me as we climbed higher and higher that all the bullshit eddied out of my head.
Coach.
Joe.
Cherri.
Harleigh.
For those few precious minutes, I was free.
But Cherri’s shrieks of trepidation rose higher, bursting my bubble of silence as she buried her face into my chest. I looked down at her and frowned.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
Me and her.
I’d ridden this ride with a handful of different girls over the years. Let my hands wander and my lips swallow their cries of exhilaration. But every single time, I’d wished it was Harleigh.
Every single time, I’d imagined it was her.
And I guessed some things never changed because when Cherri lifted her face and dropped her eyes to my mouth, leaning in to brush her lips against mine…
I was still thinking of little Harleigh Wren Maguire.
And wishing like hell she was the one here beside me.
