Page 90 of Her Goal
“Come on. It’s good luck to kiss in here. We’ll just get things started so you know what you have to look forward to,” gross, greasy Grimaldi says.
She replies, “No. Get away from me. I’m leaving.”
I can’t say for sure whether it’s jealousy, intuition, or primal protection, but as adrenaline rushes through me, I’m beside Leah in several strides. “Touch her and die.”
Eyes wide, Grimaldi looks up at me. Only it’s his reflection. I turn around and can’t figure out where he is. The sound of his chortle comes from nearby.
“What are you going to do about it?” he asks.
I whip around, but the room is meant to be disorienting and it’s working.
Leah’s footsteps pound on the grating of the floor and her reflection disappears. I storm forward, searching for Grimaldi and snatching at the air.
I hear him say, “See you on the ice, sucker.”
Hurrying outside, I find Leah nearby, ordering a massive s’mores on a stick.
“Are you okay?” I call, catching my breath.
She looks me up and down. “‘Touch her and die.’ Really, Hudson?”
“Dramatic times call for dramatic measures … or something,” I mutter, suddenly feeling like rushing in like a gallant knight isn’t appreciated.
“I’m not sure if I should feel flattered or be fuming.”
I capture her eyes and ask, “Did you want to kiss him?”
“Ew. No. He was handsy, too. So clammy.” She shivers. “Why would you—?” Her jaw lowers while she waits for her order. “Did you set me up with Grimaldi so you could save the day?”
“What? No.” He wanted to “Take a swing” and I don’t mean with his fist, though that might be a different case now.
Leah turns sharply toward me, eyes floating over me as if realizing something. Her eyes brighten. “Seriously, you did that for me? That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.”
Every inch of me except for one, the size of a corn kernel, wants to say,Yes, of course!But I cannot lie to Leah even if I riskdisappointing her. While her marshmallow is toasting inside the little food truck, I tell the truth about how I was with Beau and couldn’t stop thinking about her. That I didn’t want her to be with Grimaldi either.
“I was concerned about your comfort and safety—that Fun House ought to go to the carnival graveyard—but also I was jealous. Maybe I wanted to be here with you.”
“Then why didn’t you ask?” Her tone isn’t as sharp as I’d expect.
The food truck worker interrupts, “Miss, do you want Graham cracker crumbs and mini marshmallows?”
“Yes, please,” Leah responds.
This gives me a moment to think. Actually, I don’t need to at all.
“Leah, will you go to the Cobbiton Harvest Carnival with me?”
“We’re already here,” she says, taking the s’mores on a stick and then passing one to me.
“I know, but I’m officially asking.”
A private smile slowly lifts her lips. “Thanks for the rescue and yes.” She taps her treat against mine.
Forget the carnival lights surrounding us, something inside flares. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Cheers to that.”
