Page 25 of Hunt for the Roses
“You’ll give me the Cliffs Notes,” Aria says with her eyes still shut.
“Okay, how about I hold your hand while you keep your eyes opened? You can even hold it with a vice grip,” I suggest.
“I’ll probably crush your bones,” she responds.
I chuckle. “Not likely, so come on.”
I hold my palm out next to her on the handlebar, and Aria opens one eye to scope out the scene. “Fine,” Aria says as she cups my palm with hers. The grip isn’t bone crushing, but it’s definitely firm. Turns out, Aria’s clever when she wants to be because even though Aria’s eyes are open, she’s looking up at the sky.
“Okay, now you’re just cheating,” I say.
She shrugs as if she doesn’t know what I’m talking about. “You said nothing about where I should be looking when I open my eyes. I’m keeping my end of the bargain.”
“Touché, Ms. Tate,” I praise with an impressed tone, and then I lean back to get more comfortable in the seat as the ride catapults us up over the peak of the wheel and dunks us back down.
“Just so you know, I’m throwing up in your car on the way home,” Aria says.
I smile at her sass. “Somehow, I highly doubt it’s because you have motion sickness right now.”
“Your intuition is astounding,” Aria retorts, and I can’t help but laugh.
“You think so? Maybe I should read tarot cards in the psychic tent when we get down,” I joke as our bucket swings over the highest point of the ride and dips back down.
Aria’s head is still tilted upward as she slightly shakes her head, and I can tell she’s trying not to smile. “You’re ridiculous.”
I look at her side profile. “Would you rather be stuck on a Ferris wheel with someone who was boring? Come on, you know I’m the lesser of two evils.”
“I’m sorry, but do you ever miss a chance to stroke your ego?” Aria asks.
“No, it just comes naturally when it’s true,” I quip back.
When Aria finally tilts her head down and turns to face me, my lips slowly stretch into a shit-eating grin, and Aria just eyes me with a deadpan stare. “I can’t believe I’m stuck on a Ferris wheel listening to you gloat about yourself,” she admits in a monotone voice.
“Right, because wallowing in your panic would have been less dreadful,” I tease.
Aria’s eyes narrow at me as her jaw slightly tenses, and I raise my eyebrows at her to suggest that she knows I’m right. I feel the rotation of the wheel start to slow down, indicating that the end of the ride is near.
“I wasn’t panicking, I was coping,” Aria says, and as soon as she finishes her response, the wheel stops its motion and as our luck would have it, we get stuck at the very, very top. Aria bobs her head once to the side in realization as she holds my eyes. “Now I’m panicking,” she admits as she gives my hand a squeeze.
I smile at her confession as I turn and lean back in the seat. “Okay, twenty questions it is. Dream vacation?” I ask as I look up at the sky.
I feel Aria shift at my side as she presumably tilts her head up to the sky to enjoy the view with me. “Italy,” Aria answers.
“Most embarrassing moment?”
“Uh, probably getting caught peeing under the pier at the beach with Kate.”
I laugh. “That’s gold. Favorite color?”
“Pink.”
“Favorite TV show?”
“Friends.Was that a serious question?”
I smile. “Hey, I’m asking the questions here. Froot Loops or Trix?”
“Froot Loops.”
