Two Fish

thirty seven || alaska

“No. No way. Absolutely no way.” Alaska stood fast, immune to Elver pulling her.

“It’s fun,” he said, his hand on her elbow. She violently shook her head.

“No it’s not. That’s torture. I’m not doin it.” She inched her way to the edge of the pier, gripping the rail. She peered over the edge to the deep green sea below. Elver joined her. The wind blew her hair in his face. It was soon tackled with a ratty bobble.

“Please. It’s not that scary. It doesn’t ever go upside down.” He loved rollercoasters.

“It is scary, Elver. They trap you in there and if something goes wrong, you’re stuck. You can’t get out.” She rested her elbows on the rail, hunched over the water.

“For me?”

“I already got in the car for you,” she said.

“I went in the sea.”

“And I held your hand.”

“Well I’m your husband,” Elver said. Alaska looked at him with one eyebrow raised. She smiled. He did too.

“You owe me, big time,” she said as she allowed him to lead her over to the short queue. Most people were using their day to lie on the beach.

Alaska’s heart raced faster and faster until she thought the nervous dread would make her sick. Anytime her grip on Elver’s hand got too tight, he nudged her, reminding her to relax.

“I feel sick,” she said. “I don’t want to die.”

“You won’t die. No-one’s ever died here.”

“There’s a first time for everything.” She looked over her shoulder for an escape route but the line had built up behind them. She was trapped between the flimsy blockades – escaping would make a scene.

“It’ll be fine. I’ve been on this loads of times. Don’t worry.”

Alaska turned a sickly shade of green as they got into the second to last car and a worker put the bar down, checking it was secure.

“I don’t want to do this,” she said, pushing the bar. It didn’t budge. “Elver, please.”

“Hey, just calm down. It’s only thirty seconds, if that. Here.” He gave her his hand, her wild eyes scanning the place for a way out. When they jerked forward, she screamed and Elver laughed. She was breathing heavily as they started the slow incline to the highest point. The crescent moon indents in Elver’s palm didn’t look like they would come out.

“This is the best bit,” he said. “You should stick your arms out like this.” He flailed his free arm above him. Alaska grabbed it.

“Don’t do that. You’ll die.”

“I won’t die.”

They reached the top. Alaska giddied at the imminent drop.

“I really don’t like this,” she said, Elver’s voice drowned out by her heart beating in her ears. She was vaguely aware of him talking but she couldn’t make out what he was saying.

Then they dropped.

The scream Alaska released  was blood-curdling, glass shatteringly piercing. Other people seemed to be screaming to, though it was with excitement, but she was terrified. Her knuckles whitened around the metal bar. The rollercoaster twisted and turned, vaulting itself up only to crash down again. Alaska was nearly in tears.

“Alaska, calm down,” Elver shouted. Tears of utter fear had escaped in a moment of stillness, forced to streak across her cheeks when they sped up again. “Hey, it’s ok,” he said. She continued to scream, her voice going hoarse until she choked. Elver peeled her hand off the bar and gripped it in both of his.

“I don’t like it, I really don’t like it,” she shouted. She was panting, her eyes enormous.

“Don’t panic. It’s nearly done.”

But she didn’t. She began to hyperventilate through her screams, her chest heaving with each difficult breath.

In a last ditch attempt to shush her, Elver grabbed her head and kissed her. The screams stopped, though it didn’t help her heartbeat. The world went quiet, the only sound being the blood rushing to her head. She closed her eyes and he kept his warm lips on hers until they came to a halt. Alaska was stunned into silence when he pulled away, her gaze lingering on his mouth. It wasn’t until they were off the track, standing at the end of the pier that she finally managed to conjure up something to say.

“You kissed me.”

“I thought you were going to die if you didn’t shut up.” Elver shrugged. He still couldn’t believe it himself.

“The kiss of life,” Alaska joked. He blushed.

“Sorry.”

“No I, uh, it was nice.” She wrapped her arms around his neck to kiss him again but she pulled away only a second after their lips met, covering her mouth with her hand.

“What’s wrong? Did I do something?”

“I feel sick. The rollercoaster. I don’t want to do that again.” She ran to the edge and threw up in the sea, but she didn’t mind. It was her first kiss, and it was perfect. She wished she hadn’t tied her hair up else Elver could have held it back for her, and she could have felt his fingertips on the back of her neck. When she stood straight again, straightening out her top, he handed her a crumpled tissue from his back pocket and she wiped her mouth, spluttering a laugh.

“Sorry. That was gross.” She pressed the back of her hand to her clammy forehead.

“It’s ok,” Elver said. The past week, he had grown quite accustomed to vomit. “I, uh, I have water, I think.”

“Yes, please.”

He didn’t though – his rucksack was nearly empty, save for a couple of pounds. He took Alaska’s hand and bought her an overpriced bottle of water from a pier stall for two pounds.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Alaska said. “I could have bought it myself.”

“My treat,” Elver said. “Anyway, you wouldn’t have been sick if I hadn’t made you go on the rollercoaster.”

Alaska swished her mouth out and applied a fresh coat of lip gloss. The colour was coming back to her cheeks and she let her hair down.

“You look beautiful,” Elver said. She frowned up at him.

“I just threw up.”

He just grinned and pushed her frizzy hair over her shoulder. She wrung her wrists.

“Um, Elver?”

“Yeah?”

“Are we … together? Like, you know, together.”

Elver froze. “Well, we’re together right now,” he said, squeezing her hand.

“We are.” She rested her head on his shoulder as they walked past the thriving arcade. “We’re together.”