by Hart, Emma
I couldn’t blame the Bingo Babes if they wanted him over me, too.
Yes, it was amazing what a full night’s sleep could do. Granted, it was a full night on the sofa with Netflix going in the background, but whatever.
I put my hands on my hips and looked around the tent. There was nothing to do here, but I didn’t have anything to do anywhere else, either.
I wasn’t used to having nothing to do. I always had something to do.
Except for right now.
I smacked my lips together and sighed. Great. I could walk around the fairground and check it out now that it was all pretty much set up.
That was always fun. The part where people asked me to pass messages onto my dad… Not so much, but it was worth it to take in the magic of the fair without other people being around.
I grabbed my purse and left the tent, making sure to tie the heavy gold ropes together behind me. It was already hot, and Jesus Christ, the boob-sweat was real.
Boob-sweat was the kind of shit they needed to teach you in sex education in school.
Yes, girls, the boobs are useful.
Yes, boys, the boobs are nice to look at.
But the boob-sweat is neither useful nor nice. It’s awful and smelly and downright uncomfortable.
You’d think that Mother Nature would be nicer, given that she’s a woman and all that.
I itched under my boobs and looked around in case anyone had seen me. What? Nobody wanted to be seen rubbing at their boob sweat. It was kind of like scratching between your legs—we all did this, but we didn’t want anyone to see it.
Like peeing in relationships.
It happened, but the other person never saw it.
“That wasn’t very discreet.” Preston stepped up next to me, looking everywhere but right at me. “Boob sweat?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I replied nonchalantly. “You’re here earlier than I thought you would be.”
“It’s opening day. I had to run to the drugstore to get fifty tubes of Chapstick.”
“Why do you need so many?”
“For all the kissing I’ll be doing. Obviously.”
“You’re not going to embark of a thousand frustrating teenage make-out sessions, Preston. They’re just pecks.” I rolled my eyes and turned in the direction of the food stalls.
The rich smell of hot donuts filled the air. I swear, drool filled my mouth, and my stomach rumbled at the mere idea of holding a bag full of hot, sugary dough in my mouth.
It was my favorite part of the fair. There was every chance I’d consume my body weight in hot donuts by the end of the week.
Oh, oh, and hot dogs.
Mm, hot dogs.
Was anyone selling those yet?
“You’re thinking about food, aren’t you?” Preston nudged me with his elbow.
I jerked back and blinked hard. “No. Why do you say that?”
“Because you keep looking at the hot donut stand like it has all the answers to your problems.”
“It’s a hot donut stand. Of course it has the answers to my problems.”
“I should have known you’d say that.”
“Why? Because it’s the truth? Preston, I’m telling you right now; there isn’t a damn problem on this planet that cannot be fixed by a bag full of hot donuts.”
“Earthquakes can’t be fixed by hot donuts. Neither can roof leaks. Or burst pipes, or broken windows or—”
“All right, all right.” I reluctantly tore myself away from the hot donut stand that wasn’t even open anyway and made a mental promise to myself to stop by there before the booth opened tonight. “I get your point, but I still stand by it.”
“I figured you would. Are you hungry? I know one of the fast-food stands are open.”
“I’m starving. Are there hot dogs?”
“Are there hot dogs? Fucking hell, Halley, it’s a fair. Of course there are hot dogs.”
“What are you waiting for? Take me to the hot dogs!”
Preston laughed and pointed in the direction of it. “Come on, then. But I’m not buying one for you.”
“I didn’t ask you to buy one. I can pay two bucks for a hot dog.”
“I know, I was just saying.”
“Whatever.” I followed him across the grass to where Angela Markham was selling hot dogs out of a van. It smelled absolutely divine, and even though I’d probably have to brush my teeth three times to get rid of the smell of the fast, greasy food, I didn’t care.
I was literally that hungry.
I bounced up to the van before him and grinned at the woman who’d once taught me high school geography. “Hey, Mrs. Markham. Are you selling yet?”
She turned around and gave me a toothy smile, her dark-brown eyes glittering. “I am for you, Halley. Just the one?”
“Two, but he’s paying for his own.” I jerked my head in Preston’s direction.
“And he’s not paying for yours?”
“I’d stick it up his ass before I’d let him pay.”
Preston snorted.
Angela laughed and pushed her dark hair behind her ear. “I hear you loud and clear, honey. Let me get you yours, and then I’ll see if your young man can charm me into making him one.”
“He’s not my young man,” I said at the exact moment Preston said, “I’m not her young man.”
Angela looked between us before she curled her lips into a smirk and winked at us. “Got it.”
I pursed my lips, but I said nothing as she turned and fixed my hot dog. I handed her two dollars and took my food with a smile.
Preston did the same, and after waving goodbye, we both headed in the direction of the middle of the fair.
“You’re here early,” I told him. “Nothing to do before the fair opens?”
“I thought you might need some help setting up, but when I poked my head in the tent, I saw you were all done.”
“Don’t your parents need help at their stall?”
“Nah.” He scrunched up his hot dog wrapper and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I already tried to go by there. Five people came by and asked for tickets for the kissing booth.”
I frowned. “But there aren’t tickets for the booth.”
Preston side-eyed me. “I know that. Everybody knows it. But that doesn’t stop people asking.”
“What do—” I stopped as I realized what he was saying.
Right. The girls who wanted to kiss him wanted tickets so they could get in there quickly.
He snorted. “You really don’t get along with most of the girls in this town, do you?”
I adjusted my glasses and scanned the games that promised you a goldfish if you won. “They’ve never gotten along with me. This isn’t a movie—being the mayor’s daughter isn’t always a good thing.”
“That and you’ve been attached to both Reagan and Ava since you were four-feet tall.”
“It’s not my fault Reagan is territorial. Besides, I’m not a fan of superficial people. You know as well as I do that in this town, money is everything, and what you do with it is even more important.”
In Creek Falls, you fell into one of two categories: you had money, or you didn’t. I fell into the former thanks to a couple of generations of my family running the town and being good with money. I had no intention of being mayor, so the Dawson reign of terror would end with my father.
Unfortunately, the money thing pretty much ruled the town. I didn’t care about it, which meant I wasn’t quite good enough for the other ‘rich girls’ to bother with—the same ones who were now all over Preston like flies on shit.
In fact, flies didn’t even like shit that much.
I guess shit didn’t have a large bank account or a future windfall.
Preston grunted. “That’s why everyone wants a ticket for me.”
“Well, if it makes you feel better, I don’t.”
“Good to know. Has anyone asked you for tickets?”
“No. Everyone knows we
don’t do tickets.” I tossed my hot dog wrapper in the trash can and turned toward the Ferris wheel that towered over the whole fair. “I guess nobody wants to kiss me half as much as they want to kiss you.”
He slid me a look but didn’t say a word. Instead, he did as I had and put his hot dog wrapper in the trash. I waited for a second longer for him to speak, but he didn’t.
And that was that.
Neither of us said another word.
***
“I hereby declare the Creek Falls summer fair… Open!” My father stood on the makeshift wooden stage and cut a shiny red ribbon that was inexplicably stretched across it.
Everyone who was going to the fair was already here, at the stage where the talent show would be on the final night.
It was a stupid-ass tradition.
Still, everyone cheered like it was the greatest thing in the world. Like he’d just opened a new hospital or the Empire State building or something.
I rolled my eyes and headed back in the direction of the kissing booth. It was a miracle that I managed to get through the crowd unscathed, but somehow, I did.
I was not at all surprised to find a line already forming outside the kissing booth tent.
Nope.
In fact, if Reagan or Ava were around, I’d have probably bet money on that. And I’d have won, just like I always did.
I scooted past the entire line until I reached the front. Preston was nowhere to be found. I wished I could say that I was surprised about it, but I just wasn’t.
I was about to untie the thick, gold ropes and step inside when a familiar voice made me stop.
“Halley Dawson,” said the silky, dulcet tones of my arch-nemesis, Lindsay Rinna.
I turned, hands still clasping the ropes, and glared at her. “Lindsay.”
“Would you be a doll and let me in so I can see Preston?”
“No,” I replied firmly. “The booth doesn’t open for another fifteen minutes. I’m not letting anyone in unless they’re supposed to be inside.”
She looked to the left where my line was slowly forming. It consisted of two older guys, three kids, and one very confused-looking teenager.
“I can see why.”
I gritted my teeth together and forced a smile. “You’ll be let in when we open in fifteen minutes. Besides, Preston isn’t here yet.”
“I’m here!” He jogged up behind me. “I’m here. Am I late?”
Lindsay flicked her hair over her shoulder. “Not for me.”
I took a deep breath and undid the tie on the rope. “Get inside, Romeo.” I grabbed the front of Preston’s shirt and dragged him inside after me. I released him the second we were in the darkness of the tent and yanked the curtains closed, using a heavy clip to ensure nobody could get inside.
“That wasn’t awkward at all,” he muttered, turning on the electric lights dotted around the tent that gave it a so-called romantic vibe.
“Don’t,” I snapped. “Lindsay Rinna can suck it.”
“That’s so mature of you.”
“I pay my taxes. I’m mature enough without caring about my high school nemesis.”
“Your high school nemesis?” Preston raised his eyebrows. A small smile curved his lips as he shrugged off his jacket and tossed it in the back corner. “How old are you now?”
“Old enough to remember everything that bitch did to me.” I put my purse down in the corner of my booth. We were now separated by the curtain. “I would happily leave this booth shut all night if it meant she had to stand out there all night.”
“Jesus, you’re catty. What did she ever do to you?”
I stopped just before I opened the curtain. “When I was fifteen, she found out I had a crush on her boyfriend. Her brother put a snake in my locker. When I was sixteen, she stole my lab partner because she knew he fancied her, and I failed the class. A few months later, she went back to the locker room in the middle of gym class and cut holes in my shirt so my bra would show all day.”
“Didn’t that happen in Mean Girls?”
“Yeah, well, I’m not Regina George, and it didn’t catch on,” I said drily. “Also, is that all you took from all of that?”
“No. I get it. She was your high school nemesis. Don’t you think it’s time to grow out of that now?”
I yanked the curtain open and glared at him. “I don’t need to grow out of it. We’ll never get along, so that’s the end of it.”
He raised his eyebrows, but he said nothing as he turned around and took his seat on the wooden stool that would be his perch for the next few days. “Shall we get this show on the road?”
“I hope Lindsay gives you herpes.”
“Sometimes, I wonder why you’re single. I just found out why.”
“I’m not a bitch to everyone. Only the people who piss me off.” I smiled sweetly at him and headed toward the front of the tent. I poked my head out of the curtains and looked around for the volunteers who would be controlling the lines.
“We’re here, Miss Halley.” Two teen boys ran up between the lines and the one who’d spoken wiped sweat from his forehead. “Sorry. We got caught in the crowds.”
I smiled. “Don’t worry. Joe, you’re on my line.” I pointed to my line. “Will, you’re on Preston’s, okay?”
“Yes, Miss Halley,” Will replied.
That was going to get real old. At least they weren’t calling me ma’am…
“Officer Daniels is just over there and will help you if you have any issues.” I turned my pointer finger to the dark-skinned police officer who was in uniform only a few feet from here. He shot me a thumb up. “Any issues, even if it’s as simple as nobody listening to you, you let him know, okay?”
Both boys nodded.
I patted their cheeks. “Okay. You remember what we went over yesterday?”
Joe nodded. “Dollars to us at the front of the line. In the left side, out on the right. Two dollars per person. No dollars, no kiss.”
“Nailed it. You can start letting everyone in in a minute.”
“Yes, Miss Halley.”
I closed over the curtains and walked up to the stage. “Ready?” I asked Preston.
He met my gaze. “Ready to kiss a bunch of hot young women? I was born for this, Halley.”
I rolled my eyes. “No tongues, Romeo.”
“But—”
“No ifs, no buts, no coconuts.” I pointed at him. “If someone slips you the tongue, bite it.”
His eyebrows shot up. “You’ve done that before?”
“Come and kiss me and find out for yourself.”
He held up his hands. “I’m all for a little biting, but on the neck or something. Maybe a nibble on the lower lip—little nip on the inner thigh, you know?”
“That’s far more than I need to know about your sexual preferences, thank you.” I climbed onto my side of the stage, dipping my head so he wouldn’t see me blushing.
Lord, I hoped he hadn’t seen me blushing.
I’d never live it down if he had.
“Yeah, well, don’t tell anyone,” Preston said from the other side of the curtain. “I don’t need those harlots outside knowing where I like to be nibbled.”
“So I can’t call them your harem, but you can call them harlots?”
“I was gonna call them total babes, but I didn’t think you’d like that.”
“You can call the women of this town whatever you like.”
“God knows you do.”
“Exactly.” There was a slight pause before we both laughed. I bit mine back and cleared my throat. “Are you ready? The boys are about to open the tent.”
“Let’s do this, Halley.”
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes as I let it back out.
Let’s do this, indeed.
CHAPTER SEVEN – HALLEY
Kissin’ Ain’t Easy
My lips were dry and sore, and it’d been one night.
My line had been a parade of teen boys. One after another they’d li
ned up, ready to slap their lips against mine. I was fully aware that I was the first kiss of at least six teenage boys tonight.
Apparently, the kissing booth was the cool place to get your first kiss.
Call me old fashioned, but a first kiss was something you’d remember forever, and I felt like it needed to be special.
It was like having your first kiss in a relationship. I didn’t want to marry a guy and know that our first kiss was a dare, for example. I wanted it to mean something.
The teen boys in my line didn’t feel the same way.
Neither did all the twenty-something women in Preston’s line.
I wasn’t bitter.
All right, I was a little bit bitter.
It was a shit situation to be in. There wasn’t much worse than listening to the guy you had a stupid crush on kissing other women repeatedly.
That was my issue with this whole thing. It wasn’t that it was happening, but more than I had to listen to it. That and all the giggling from the women in line waiting to kiss Creek Falls’ most eligible bachelor.
The fair was due to start at midday today. There was a huge horse show on the field adjoining the fairground that was due to start today, so there would be a huge influx of people coming into town for the show.
I didn’t care a bit about it. I wasn’t a horse person. To be honest, I wasn’t even a raccoon person, but here I was, standing on my back porch, cleaning out their bowls with hot, soapy water.
I guess people could change.
As long as I didn’t change much more, it’d be fine.
I finished up cleaning the bowls and headed back inside. I drained the water down the sink and tossed the wet rag into the basin after it.
My phone buzzed on the counter, and I picked it up in one hand and my coffee in the other.
REAGAN: What time are you getting to the fair? I have to deliver flowers to my parents.
ME: 11ish.
REAGAN: Wanna grab coffee before the booth opens?
ME: Are you paying?
REAGAN: No.
