Page 89 of Theoretically Straight

We make our way to the Ferris wheel, the agreed-upon meeting place for the crew. It’s only 11:56, but I’m certain that Harrison, Elise, and Oliver will probably already be there. Harrison is a stickler for punctuality.

“Sorry, I kind of sprang all of that on you,” I say as we walk. I’ve almost reached for his hand twice already, and we’ve only been out of the car for like five minutes. Today’s going to be agonizing, but I’m determined to have a good time.

“It’s okay,” Caleb says, his voice bright and happy. “So, I take it he took the news well?”

“Well, actually, he already knew before today. Apparently, we need to be more careful in my driveway.”

Caleb’s eyes widen. “Yikes. Yeah, I guess we need to cool down.”

There’s a sinking feeling in my stomach at his words. I hate having to hide all the time. I know Caleb hates it, too, even though he’d never say it directly. I wish it wasn’t a big deal. I wish I wasn’t so afraid of my parents finding out. I wish we could just be ourselves. For a moment, I almost feel like we should just go back to the car and go somewhere else. “I’m sorry,” I mumble, halfway hoping Caleb doesn’t even hear me.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Hey guys, over here!” Elise’s voice carries over all the festival noise, and I see that everyone’s already there, even Freddy and Wren.

As we approach, Oliver rubs his hands together, a wide grin on his face. “Finally. Now that everyone’s here, I am starving. What are you guys thinking for lunch?”

“I want something fried, and I prefer that fried thing on a stick,” Freddy answers.

“A man after my own heart,” Oliver says, winking at Freddy. Freddy smirks at him.

“Should we just head towards where the food is and see what sounds the best?” Harrison asks. He’s standing behind Elise with both arms wrapped around her waist, his chin practically resting on the top of her head. While he waits for an answer from the group, he plants a gentle kiss in her hair. I suddenly want nothing more than to try that with Caleb, but there’s no way that would even work. Our height difference isn’t as dramatic as Harry and Elise’s, but as the shorter one, there’s no graceful way I can just kiss the top of Caleb’s head. I’d probably have to stand on my tiptoes or something ridiculous. And even if Caleb held me from behind like that, Caleb’s head wouldn’t tower over mine like Harrison’s does for Elise. Caleb would probably be able to comfortably rest his chin on my shoulder from behind. The perfect position for him to whisper in my ear or kiss my cheek or–

“Theo?”

“Hm?” I blink a few times to shake myself out of my daze.

Caleb’s grinning at me. “Are you coming?”

Everyone is already walking towards the concession stands, and clearly, Caleb had started walking only to stop and turn around before leaving me behind. “Yep, sorry, let’s go!”

I intentionally brush my hand against his as we walk to catch up with everyone. He gives me a sideways glance. “What were you daydreaming about?” he asks, a playful tone in his voice.

“What do you think?”

Caleb smiles, and my stomach flutters.

The rest of the afternoon is full of extremely greasy food (Oliver was literally jumping up and down when he discovered the deep-fried Pop-Tarts), nauseating rides (that shockingly no one actually puked from this time), and occasionally overwhelming crowds (triggering only one mild anxiety attack, but Caleb helped keep me calm and I was fine again in less than five minutes).

I’m overjoyed with how much our friend group has melded together. Oliver and Freddy seem to be playing a strange game of flirting chicken, although I’m not sure what the desired outcome is, so it’s fun to watch. Elise is captivated by Wren’s horror makeup portfolio, and she continues pestering Wren to show her more pictures every chance she gets. Occasionally, the conversation will go back to horror movies, and Oliver and Wren’s repertoire of obscure horror films they’ve seen is shockingly similar. At some point, someone brought up some indie comic book reference, and Harrison, Elise, and Freddy rambled on about it for at least twenty minutes.

As we’re walking down a row of overpriced carnival games, something catches my eye. I gasp as I realize what it is. “Caleb, Caleb, look!” Without hesitation, I grab his hand and pull him to the booth, my eyes locked on the prize.

The booth itself is nothing special, and I don’t actually see a game set up anywhere, but hanging from the tent ceiling and seated on shelves lining the back wall of the booth are dozens upon dozens of Halloween-themed plush toys of varying sizes. There are Frankenstein monsters, mummies, vampires, zombies, black cats, and witches—just about any cliche Halloween character imaginable.

But one sticks out above the rest. It’s an adorable rust-colored puppy—almost the same shade as Caleb’s hair but not nearly pretty enough—with a black witch hat and a seafoam green sparkling cloak. It’s about the size of a basketball. It’sperfect.

I point to the puppy as I nudge Caleb’s shoulder. “I’m going to win that one for you,” I say softly, with more determination than I’ve ever felt about anything.

Caleb snickers. “Really?”

“Hey, what did you stop for?” Oliver says as he appears on the other side of me. “You’re not actually going to throw your money away on this shit, are you?”

I’m already digging into my pocket for my wallet. The attendant, a very bored-looking guy with messy blonde hair—probably only a year or two older than me—is scrolling on his phone when I clear my throat to get his attention. “Hi. Umm, what game is this, and how can we win one of those?” I point to the shelf where Witch Puppy sits.

The attendant looks annoyed as he casually stows his phone away in his pocket. He moves out of the booth and motions to a neighboring setup beside the booth, and my stomach drops. Apparently, in my tunnel vision, I completely missed it, and now I feel stupid for asking. “It’s your basic Ladder Climb. Pretty simple. You just have to keep your balance on the rope ladder, climb to the top, and push the button up there.”

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