"When she says 'fuck you' it means 'I like you.' It's hood girl speak. Learn the language."
~Kevin, Shameless
➳♀♁➳
The world glitters under the sun. The trees are lush, overflowing with vibrant leaves. The sky is clear, a never-ending canvass of blue stretching in all directions.
Oliver's motorcycle flies past Fran's, and he takes one hand off the handle to place it on my leg, leaning back slightly to yell, "Remember when you almost died via fry inhalation?"
I laugh and hold him tighter around the middle, suddenly realizing how much fun I'm having even though the day has just begun.
We roll into town, Oliver slowing the bike down as we drive through Main Street, the shops bustling with people. The fair is just past Main Street, off of Birch, where the sand starts and circles the lake. For the full weekend, the entire town will be down in this area, eating at food carts parked around, buying summery clothes from the boutiques, and spending endless money on tickets for the rides and games.
It's one of the busiest times of the year.
Oliver slows down as we approach a police officer in the middle of the road that I recognize as Mr. Waterson, a coworker of my dad. He waves us down Birch street and away from the busiest part of town, where cars won't be allowed to enter until after the festivities. It dawns on me that my dad will be working today, walking around in his police uniform and keeping control of the crowds.
I make a mental note to look out for him so Oliver and I can avoid him at all costs.
Little early to meet the parents.
Oliver follows the road down until we reach a field just past the lake, a sign labeled "Free Parking" sitting out front. The bike grumbles and purrs as we slow down, finally huffing to a stop as we pull up next to a red truck. Oliver kicks the stand down and turns the key as I finally get the chance to peel off the pesky helmet.
Oliver gets off first and holds out a hand to help me off. A bustling family passes us, the four kids in various stages of running and skipping to get to the festivities.
"I just have to warn you," Oliver starts, looking me in the eyes with a blank expression, "I once beat a guy in a cotton candy eating contest, and if it comes down to it, I'm not afraid to crush you as well."
I blink. "Yeah? Well at last year's fair, I chugged an entire bottle of ketchup on a dare and went on the Tilt-A-Wirl right after. Didn't even throw up."
He looks surprised. "You never cease to amaze me, Sorry."
I can't help the grin that surfaces.
"Shall we?" He asks, motioning in the direction of the fair. I nod and we start walking. The sun is high and bright like my anticipation for today.
"So you've lived in Helaci your whole life, right?" Oliver asks me.
"Yep," I answer easily as we walk out of the field and start down the road. We're a good quarter mile away, but the loud shrieks of fear and excitement can still be heard loud and clear. "My parents were both born here too. They were sort of high school sweethearts."
"Why do you say sort of?" Oliver asks.
"Well, my mom thought my dad was a brainless jock, so she didn't give him a lot of attention during high school." Oliver laughs at this. "But he chased her around like a lovesick puppy, just begging for her attention."
"To no avail," Oliver smiles.
I laugh. "She wasn't interested until the summer before college, when she signed up to be a lifeguard at the lake and he pretended to drown so she'd save him."
"Oh wow," Oliver laughs. "That's quite an extreme approach."
The smell of hot dogs and fried desserts wafts through the air as we get closer. Oliver and I step into the sand, prepared to walk around the lake to get to the side housing the carnival rides.
"It worked, though," I continue. "Now they've been married for nearly twenty years."
I look at his face. He's smiling, but it doesn't reach his eyes.
I'm about to ask about his parents when he grabs my hand, pulling me into a run. "Sky, look! Balloons!"
Laughing, I run with him down the beach, a slight breeze teases the lake, pushing the water up in soft waves. They slide up and greet our feet. Droplets of water fly up onto my legs as I run.
Oliver turns his head and looks back at me. The smile is back, paired with a twinkle in his eyes.
By the time Oliver and I reach the balloon vendor, my hair is in knots behind me and our faces are flushed.
"Two, please," Oliver says to the man, pulling out his wallet and handing over a dollar. I inspect the balloons. They're various animals, a floating zoo in the sky.
"I want the tiger," I say, pointing.
"The lion and the tiger," Oliver requests, and to me he whispers, "and bear, oh my."
I laugh as he takes the balloons. "You got pretty excited there."
We start walking away, stepping near to the entrance of the fair. The sun's gotten hotter, beating down, and I'm thankful for the slight breeze.
"About the balloons?" He asks, handing me mine. I curl the string around my fingers and nod. "Oh yeah, I'm a big balloon guy."
"Oh, so like a fetish?" I smile.
"A balloon fetish, yes." Then his face gets more serious. "Actually me and my mom used to go to the fair every summer, and the first thing we'd do is get balloons. Kind of a tradition I suppose."
There's a line to the ticket booth and we get in it. I notice a few people from school that I don't plan on talking to mingling a few groups in front of us. I suddenly feel a little weird being in such a public place.
It could easily look like Oliver and I were on a date, which wasn't the case. I didn't usually care what people thought, but I wasn't exactly trying to start a bunch of rumors.
My phone buzzes from the pocket of the romper. I ignore it and turn back to Oliver. "And, what, you're too old for the fair now?"
His face, usually warm and readable, closes. "No one's too old for the fair." My phone buzzes again. "I just don't have a mom anymore."
I blink. "I'm so sorry, did she-"
Buzz.
"No," Oliver interrupts, face blank. "Not dead. Unfortunately."
Buzz.
I don't know what to say. At that moment, we become first in line and Oliver takes out his wallet again to pay. I take out mine, too.
"What is it - fifteen?" I ask, ruffling through the bills.
He laughs, "You're not paying," and lays down the money. The woman in the booth stares at me lazily and pushes two tickets through the slot at the bottom of the window.
I look at Oliver. He looks at me. I clench my jaw. I can pay for myself. This isn't a date.
He grabs the tickets.
My phone buzzes. Twice.
I finally rip it out of my pocket and read the screen.
Cora: How's the date?
Lina: Has he kissed you yet?
Cora: are his lips soft?
Lina: r u dating now?
Cora: tell us everything
Lina: by the way, we're sort of behind you.
I whip my head around. A smirky blonde and bouncy red head wave at me from the back of the line.
"Unbelievable," I mutter, grabbing Oliver's arm and pulling him into the fair.
"What is it, Hot Cakes?" Oliver asks.
I groan. "The CIA's got me on lock." I lead him past the food carts that litter the front entrance. Mobs of people, most whom I recognize, cluster around, eating hotdogs, French fries, and deep fried Oreos.
"Oh, geez, I hate when that happens," Oliver says, moving his fingers so we're holding hands instead of me just pulling him. I give him a hard look and unloop our hands. "What'd you do?"
I'm leading us towards the very back of the fair, where two pairs of beady eyes can't find us. "Killed a man."
Oliver nods. "I hope you pulled his teeth out. Cut off his fingers and toes so he couldn't be identified?"
I nod. "Of course. This isn't my first rodeo."
He looks at me. We stop. We're standing in between the Tilt-a-Whirl and the Gravitron.
Laughter bubbles out of my chest. He smirks, a smile growing across his handsome face. He stares at me until I'm worried there's something in my teeth and stop laughing.
"What?" I ask.
He tilts his head. "You're really beautiful."
Something in my chest slams. It feels like a toolbox spilling it's guts onto mine.
"Thanks."
He smiles even wider. People hustle all around us, the carnival inhaling and exhaling kids and their parents. The sky is clear, unlike the air that's being perfumed with the smell of sugar and fried food.
Oliver takes a step towards me and I break eye contact, looking back from where we came to see if I can spot Cora or Lina. A group of girls runs past us, screaming after a cluster of boys.
"You know what?" Oliver asks, taking a step in. We're a foot apart at most. "When I was five, I wanted to be an astronaut."
He takes another small step. I'm counting the inches that fall away.
"Yeah, so?" I whisper, lungs suddenly tight.
He moves even closer.
"So I always liked the thought of antigravity," he continues. "Always liked the feeling you get when a roller coaster flies down a steep track - you know, like when your stomach seems to float past your heart?"
Closer. Our shoes are touching.
"And?" I barely push out.
"And-" his face leans in, head tilting slowly. I stop breathing. Every part of my body slows down, the percussionist that works my beating heart quits, until
time
stops
Our lips are about to touch, "-And I think we should definitely try the Anti-gravity ride that's behind you," Oliver says, pulling away and adding one inch two inches three four seven twenty between us until there's nearly ten feet because he's walked past me and into the entrance of the ride, laughing all the way.
"Asshole," I mutter, but I can't stop the smile that teases the corners of my mouth. My stomach unties itself and I turn around. "You're not tough enough to be an astronaut."
Oliver laughs. "Let's see who'd do better. Five seconds on this thing and you'll be throwing up."
I blossom at the challenge. "You're on."
Two minutes later, we've payed the guy a dollar each and we're strapped into the inside. The entire ride is a huge, black cylinder on an axis. The inside is all padding, the ceiling covered with glow in the dark stars and neon lights, with the operator strapped in the middle by the controls. The cylinder spins like a top, reaching a speed of around 24 rpm, effectively reducing gravity.
It mostly just makes you want to vomit, but if you're lucky, you can stand until your entire body is parallel to the floor. The ride isn't actually "anti-gravity," it just spins so hard that the force pulls you towards the wall until it's almost impossible to even lift your head. In other words, it just sort of moves gravity.
It's my favorite ride.
I clutch the seatbelt strap, not even bothering to put it on. No point in being strapped to a wall if gravity's gonna pin me there anyway.
"First one to stand perpendicular to the wall gets five bucks," I say.
Oliver turns to me, our shoulders touching, "Say goodbye to Lincoln, Sorry."
"Is everyone ready?" The operator bellows from his spot in the middle. I glance around the circle. Oliver and I are the only ones on. As a ride that's notorious for eliciting vomit from its riders, it's not exactly popular.
"Ready," Oliver says.
"Ready," I repeat.
"Alright, then," the operator says, "fasten your seat belts and enjoy your ride on Area 51." The lights above us flicker as the room begins to spin.
I grin in anticipation as it gets faster and faster. The ride groans as machine pieces tink and titter, getting so loud it sounds like a high pitched scream.
"Ready to stand?" Oliver yells over the noise. I nod in the dark. "Okay. Three, two-"
I pull my legs up and try to get them under me. Every part of my body feels like it's glued to the sides, my thighs sticking to the cushion. Lifting my head up feels like picking up a fifty-pound brick.
Oliver doesn't seem to be doing much better. Then he twists over onto his stomach and uses his arms to push against the gravitational pull.
I grin and steal his idea. My stomach churns as I flip over, and I close my eyes, willing myself not to throw up. It passes and I push, pulling my legs up and attempting to stand. It feels like trying to move a concrete wall with your hands.
Something wraps around my middle and I'm pulled to my feet.
"Hey!" I object, turning around. Oliver is already standing, pulling me up so we're both defying gravity. "I could have done it without you."
"No doubt," he says, "but my guess is there's only around thirty seconds left and I still haven't had time to do this."
He steps forward from where we're standing on the wall of the ride and grabs my arm. He pulls me in and every nerve ending on my body is ablaze, blood pumping to the beat of the whirring machine all around us. Oliver's hand slides to the small of my back and our legs are touching, then our chests until the space between us is nonexistent. His body seems to hum with electricity, or maybe he's just on fire. He leans in and my eyes flutter shut-
-and he grabs my hand.
My eyes fly open. He moves our fingers out until they're both touching the floor that now seems like a wall next to us.
I blink.
And blink again.
I look between our hands and his face. His is blank while I'm sure mine is covered in confusion.
"We were just standing on this a minute ago," Oliver says, but his words sound like humming, "and now we're touching it. Isn't that cool?"
I murmur something but the only think I can think - the one thing repeating itself over and over in my head like a mantra - is
Why the shit didn't he kiss me?
The ride starts to slow down and the gravity is returned to the floor. I sink down onto the wall again so I don't fall to the floor, planting my feet back down to their usual spot.
Oliver is laughing.
I turn to him when the ride finally stops, my brain swimming behind my skull. "Did you do that on purpose?"
He looks at me. "Do what?"
There's a grin on his face and I want to kick him in the throat. My lips are numb at the thought of the kiss that didn't happen.
Little fucking tease.
We step off the ride, eyes adjusting to the bright sunlight outside. My stomach churns and I regret picking Area 51 to be the first ride of the day.
"Well that was fun," Oliver says. "No one threw up though."
"Isn't that a good thing?" I ask, biting my bottom lip. He glances at it, a hungry look in his eyes.
Good. Two can play this game.
"So," he starts slowly, distracted. "How about some fries."
I smirk. "What - so I can have another near death experience? No thanks."
He laughs.
"Oliver!"
He and I both turn our heads towards the voice. A group of guys is walking our way, all four of them dressed like they're in some motor gang. I smile politely as the one in front looks at me. His hair is long, down to his shoulders, and pitch black. His face is attractive except for the cigarette lodged between his lips. He's dressed entirely in black - v-neck, jeans, leather jacket - all the way down to the combat boots encasing his feet.
It's seventy-five degrees.
He catches me staring and his eyebrows shoot up. Turning to Oliver, he says, "She's cute."
The guy next to him gives me a long look. Eyes such a light blue they look startling, they move from my chest and glide their way down my body. Feathers ruffled, I take a step back. "She's got a name, too."
Oliver smirks, and puts a protective arm around me. He points to the guy, "Neck, meet Skylar," then to me, "Skylar, meet Neck."
I shrug off Oliver's arm and debate holding my hand out for a handshake. I cross my arms instead.
Who is this guy?
"Neck," I start. "Interesting. Why not foot? Or toe?"
"Ear, perhaps," Oliver joins in. Neck smirks at him.
"Says you, Judissius," he retorts.
Judissius?
Oliver gives Neck a friendly shove. "Oh, hop off."
Neck laughs and shoves him back. "Aren't you wondering why I'm here."
Oliver glances at me, like he's not comfortable discussing it in my presence. My spine prickles with an uncomfortable feeling.
"Assuming it's business related," is all Oliver says. He turns to me, and I force a smile onto my face.
Business.
Not exactly the date I'd pictured.
"Neck and I met in boarding school before I transferred here my sophomore year," Oliver says. "I was top of the class and he got expelled for smoking weed in the bathroom." The three guys in Neck's entourage laugh.
"For fucks sake, Jude," Neck rolls his eyes. "You're making me sound bad." He wiggles the cigarette still stuck in his lips. It's not even lit.
I'm actually impressed he's been able to speak without it flying out into the dirt.
"Sorry if the facts sound bad, my friend," Oliver says. The expression on his face looks off, like he's trying to distract from the reason Neck showed up in the first place.
I can feel a bead of sweat on my forehead, a byproduct of all the heat. I reach my arm up to lift it away. "So, Neck," I start. "What was this guy like in school?"
"Oh," Oliver drawls. "We don't need to share all those boring stories." He reaches a hand out to me. "Skylar, we must be going. Our date's only just begun."
He takes my hand and starts walking deeper into the fair.
"Fine, Jude," Neck calls after us. I look back as Oliver marches forward. "I'll meet you at your place then. We still got things to discuss."
I don't have a chance to ask any questions because Oliver is still yanking me away. I take one look back at Neck and his crew before we round the Merry-Go-Round. Neck's face is unreadable as he reaches into his pocket, fishes out a lighter, and finally lights his cigarette. As he takes the first drawl, his eyes meet mine.
He winks.
And I thought I had everything figured out about Oliver Manning. How wrong I was.