Page 36 of Curious
“Sure,” he says. “My treat.”
While I want to argue with him, I can see the resolve in his eyes, so I relent. I’ll get something else for him. “Sounds good.”
We finish our popsicles, then Shelby buys two tickets for the Ferris wheel and we get in line.
The giant wheel stops, and a group of people get off. When it’s our turn to get in and the operator is holding the door open for us, Shelby and I look at each other.
“Which seat do you want?” I ask, gesturing.
“Can we sit side by side? I don’t want to sit alone. I’m nervous enough about heights.”
“Of course,” I say.
“Will we be fine with the weight if we sit on the same side?” he asks the operator.
“Yep.” The guy smacks his gum and takes my crutches.
“Cool,” Shelby says faintly, and I climb in after him.
The door is closed and secured behind us, and the Ferris wheel takes off.
“Whoa,” he says. “Is this gonna … This is gonna get high, isn’t it?”
“Haven’t you been on one of these before?” I ask.
“I don’t remember.” He looks a little sick.
“Come here,” I say, holding my arm out to pull him to me. “You can close your eyes if you want.”
The wheel lurches to a stop as they let more people on and off, and he takes the opportunity to scoot closer. The wind tousles our hair, and we’re getting a better view of the attractions around us. When we get up to the top, I bet we’ll have a fantastic view of the ocean and the city.
Even though I know these things are safe—or at least sort of safe—my heart is still pounding, accelerating every time we stop and start. I’m good with roofs. Ferris wheels? They’re less reliable. It’s worse when we’re up at the top, but I don’t want Shelby to see me being tentative, because he’s already scared. Looking at him gives me some resolve.
“I don’t think I like this,” he says. “We’re just so high up. And out here in the air.”
“Want to get off?” I ask. “I can yell at the operator.”
“No, it’s okay. I guess I just need to hang on. Grin and bear it.”
“Lie back and think of England?” I ask.
He giggles. “Where did you get that?”
“My British grandmother said it once, and it made me laugh.”
We jolt into motion again, and he clasps my thigh. “If this would be steadier, I’d do better,” he says. “It’s the starts and stops and the hanging out in the middle of nowhere, swinging, that’s getting to me.”
He needs a distraction. I can tell he’s getting scared, and we still have to go through a bunch of stops before the wheel will go around a few times.
I make a quick decision. “Hey,” I say, lowering my voice.
He looks up at me, and I kiss him. I know it’s a high school move, kissing him on a Ferris wheel, where there’s this heightened sense of danger, but I don’t care. I want to kiss him, and I’ll take the excuse. I concentrate on how much I like making out with him.
Because we’remaking out. He tastes like lemon, and his tongue is still cold from the ice pop, as is mine. His hands are cold, too, but he wraps them around me, and we just kiss. Our tongues enter each other’s mouths, and the world starts to drop away.
Or maybe that’s our stomachs dropping.
Or maybe it’s my heart beating faster, because it’s not only the ride but also the kiss.
