Page 83 of The Hearts We've Broken
“I say let’s grab some food to snack on while we look at vendor tables first. They’ve got some carnival games that I want to kick your ass in”—she winked—“and then we can either ride the Ferris wheel or take a walk downtown. We’ve also got all day tomorrow, so we don’t have to do everything all at once.”
We’d planned to stay the night in a hotel to really make the most out of the weekend.
“I’m along for the ride. Show me around, Peach.” I lether lead me to the food trucks as she pointed out her favorites.
“We’re going to have to eat it all, you know.” She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.
“Good thing I haven’t eaten much today.” I chuckled as she pulled me up to a food truck selling stir-fried noodles.
Ten minutes later, our arms were full with noodles, mini corndogs, funnel cake, a snow cone, apple cider donuts, fried Oreos, and fried pickles. We laid out our spread on a picnic table—instead of walking through the vendors—and dug in, sharing plates and ranking our favorites.
“Apple cider donuts are my favorite, hands down,” Juniper mumbled through a mouthful. “They have my number one spot every time.”
I took a bite of the fried Oreo, immediately pushing the pickles away.
“You don’t like fried pickles?” Her jaw dropped, mouth gaping.
Wrinkling my nose, I shook my head. “I don’t like pickles at all.”
“That’s a criminal offense. Those are my second favorite.”
“I just can’t. Okay, my number one is the funnel cake. Last place is obviously the pickles. These Oreos aren’t bad, though.”
“Are there any other foods you don’t like? I’m prepared for my heart to break,” she teased, taking a sip of the peach mango snow cone that had already melted.
“I hate bananas. I love pear flavor, but I don’t like the taste of actual pears. I also don’t like corn.”
“What do you have against corn?” she cried out.
“I just don’t see the point? It gets stuck in my teeth anddoesn’t taste good, so it’s more of an annoyance than anything. What about you?”
“All of the normal things. Brussels sprouts, licorice, mushrooms, blue cheese.” She started to list things off.
“Hold on, mushrooms?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Yes, I do not like mushrooms. Before you judge me, Mr. I-Don’t-Like-Corn, it’s the texture.”
“Fair enough. Can’t argue with that.”
We finished our food, my final ranking being funnel cake, fried Oreos, stir-fried noodles, apple cider donuts, mini corndogs, snow cone (it was too sweet), and pickles. Her ranking was apple cider donuts, fried pickles, funnel cake, stir-fried noodles, snow cone, corn dogs, then Oreos last, to my surprise.
I accidentally let out a long, loud burp, immediately covering my mouth as heat rushed into my cheeks.
“Excuse you!” She giggled, and I was starting to think the sugar was going to her head.
I shook my head, a smile tugging on my lips, as we stood and I wrapped my arm around her shoulders. “Where to next? Please don’t say rides. I don’t know if my stomach can handle that.”
“What, you don’t want to go on the Tilt-A-Whirl?”
My face contorted into a grimace. “Not if you don’t want it to be a Puke-A-Whirl.”
She pursed her lips. “Noted. Shall we go look at the vendors or play carnival games?”
“How about let’s do the vendors here and go downtown, then I can kick your ass in carnival games tomorrow.” I winked, grabbing her hand and giving it a squeeze.
Juniper scowled, but I knew it was all in good fun whenshe muttered, “Good luck with that. I’m the best at carnival games.”
The vendors here at the fairgrounds were set up in one of the large exhibition buildings. The air conditioning hit us with a cool blast when we stepped inside, and Juniper let out a content sigh. I didn’t think it was that hot outside with it only being the end of May, but it brought relief, nonetheless.
