Thrill Ride

by Rachel Hawthorne

  “No, they’re wondering if they’ll survive.”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Cole said. “Don’t you like roller coasters?”

  Until that second, I hadn’t realized that our conversation had an audience. I looked over to find everyone watching us, waiting….

  Why did I feel like I was at some addicts’ anonymous meeting?

  “I’m not a big roller coaster fan, no,” I admitted.

  “Why?” Cole asked, appearing truly perplexed.

  I held out my hands. “It just doesn’t appeal to me.”

  “But you told me that you rode Magnum Force,” Jordan said.

  I was so embarrassed. “I lied.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I get tired of trying to explain why I so don’t get roller coasters.”

  “Could be acrophobia,” Ronda said.

  Cole looked at her.

  “Fear of heights,” she explained.

  “It’s not a phobia,” I assured her, although I couldn’t stand to ride in elevators that were on the outside of buildings.

  “Or illyngophobia, fear of dizziness,” Ronda said. “Or tachophobia, fear of speed.” She grinned. “I aced my psychology course. There’s probably a definite phobia for roller coasters, but I don’t know what it is.”

  “I’m not afraid of anything. I have no phobia.”

  “She just has no interest in roller coasters,” Parker said, unexpectedly coming to my defense. “We’ve already discussed it.”

  “When did you discuss it?” Jordan asked.

  Parker shrugged. “Sometime when our paths crossed. The point being, it’s not important. Different strokes, that’s all, so give her a break.”

  “Aren’t we touchy?” Jordan asked.

  “I just fixed your car. I can unfix it, you know,” he said.

  Seeing them parrying back and forth, I realized how totally insane it was that I’d thought they were anything except brother and sister. I could even see the similarities now…not in the eyes or the hair or the smiles, but in the mannerisms, the confidence. They were as different from each other as Sarah and I were, but I could detect shadows of similarities. I just had to look hard, and I’d really tried not to look hard at Parker.

  But the truth was that looking at him was a pleasure.

  Since Jordan and I had cooked, we got out of cleanup. Parker got out of it, too, since he’d fixed Jordan’s car. While everyone went inside to get a brownie, I stayed on the porch, standing at the railing, gazing out at the lake while twilight came.

  “It’s awesome, isn’t it?” Parker said quietly from behind me.

  I glanced over and he was extending a brownie on a paper towel.

  “We’re not too fancy here,” he said, as though to apologize for the offering.

  “That’s fine.” I took it, bit into the brownie. Like Parker, I preferred the original to any fancy variety.

  He stood beside me, eating his brownie, without a paper towel.

  “I’m just curious,” he began. “All the cold shoulders you gave me, was that because you thought Jordan was my girlfriend?”

  “Not completely. Like I said, I have a boyfriend.”

  He finished his brownie, hitched up a hip, and sat on the edge of the railing, looking at me. “What’s he like?”

  “Smart. Dependable, loyal—”

  “Those are the same words I use to describe my dog.”

  I glowered at him.

  He held up his hands. “Sorry, but look, I’m interested in you. Just trying to size up my competition.”

  “Read my lips. I’m not interested in you.”

  “You really shouldn’t draw my attention to your lips.”

  I rolled my eyes. I couldn’t really take offense, though, because he said everything like it was a joke. And somehow, as much as I didn’t want to, I found myself fighting to hold back a smile.

  “Does he make you laugh?” he asked.

  “What has that got to do with anything?”

  “My father’s advice when it came to women. He said, ‘Find a woman you like being with, who views spending money the same way you do, and makes you laugh.’”

  “Sounds like he’s an expert.”

  “Totally. And you’re avoiding my question.”

  I sighed. “Yes, he makes me laugh.”

  “That’s good.”

  Thank goodness he didn’t ask for examples, because at that precise moment I couldn’t think of any time when Nick and I had laughed. I knew there had to have been laughter; I guess it just hadn’t been memorable.

  “So maybe you’ll come back for the hump party,” he said, with no hint of it being a question.

  “Maybe.”

  I didn’t know why I felt guilty. I’d come here to work, but surely Nick didn’t expect me to have no fun whatsoever. All work and no fun would make Megan a dull girl.

  Only 47 Nick-less days to go, and counting….

  Chapter 12

  “She wants Aunt Vic’s holy terror to be ring bearer!”

  The “she,” of course, was Mom. Aunt Vic was my dad’s youngest sister from my granddad’s third marriage, and the holy terror was her three-year-old son, Vincent.

  “Why?” I asked, beginning to think that Sarah was right and that Mom may have indeed gone off the deep end.

  “Because he’s cute.”

  “In photos, yeah, but he’s like the Tasmanian Devil in person.” Honestly, the kid worked up a gust of breeze wherever he went.

  “Talk to her, will ya?”

  “Me? This is your wedding. You talk to her.”

  “Come on, Megan, you’re her favorite.”

  “Only because I’m not there.”

  It was Tuesday night and I’d just gotten off my shift. I was walking along the lighted sidewalk that stretched from the theme park to the dorm. To my right were the sand and the lake. People were still out on the beach, and I could hear people at the hotel pool as I walked by.

  In my backpack was a wish-you-were-here postcard I’d picked up at H & G’s today to send to Nick. The neat thing about a theme park is that it has lots of postcards, tiny gifts, and I’m-having-a-great-time-but-miss-you stuff. I’d actually bought a six-inch stuffed bear that I was going to send to Nick, too. Just a little something so he’d know I was thinking about him.

  “It’s your wedding, Sarah. You’re about to become a wife. Shouldn’t you be able to tell someone when you don’t like something they’re doing?”

  “Are you saying I shouldn’t get married?”

  Although there were people around, especially other people walking back to the dorm after finishing their shifts, it seemed so quiet without all the rides going. I thought that unlike an hour ago, now someone would hear me if I screamed. And I was really tempted to do that.

  “No, I’m not saying that. I’m just saying that you have to stand up for yourself.”

  “It’s just that I can see him running around, dropping to the floor, kicking—”

  “You’re preaching to the choir here.”

  She growled. “This would have been so much easier if you had stayed here this summer.”

  For her maybe. No way would it have been easier for me.

  “So what are you doing?” she asked, suddenly changing the subject.

  “Walking home. I really like it here, Sarah.”

  “You are going to come home for my wedding, right?”

  “I wouldn’t miss it. Now go talk to Mom. Tell her it’s your wedding and you don’t want the little monster.”

  “Okay. Love ya, sis.”

  She hung up before I could say, “Love you back.” Her timing was perfect. I’d arrived at the dorm. I really hoped it would be the same for her wedding. Perfect timing on everything. Maybe I should call Mom and suggest that she lighten up.

  I walked into the dorm and went to the elevators, saying hi to a couple of the people standing around.

  On the sixth floor, Zoe was greeting us, like she did every
night. “Hello, ladies, did everyone have a lovely night?”

  There were a couple of groans, and one girl just rolled her eyes.

  “It’s only the beginning of summer, luvs. Wait until we really get busy,” Zoe said. “Anyone want to pop in for a bit of chitchat?”

  I had on other nights, but tonight I was just way too tired. “Later, Zoe,” I said, as I walked past her.

  I got to my room, inserted the key, opened the door—

  The hallway light spilled into the room, chasing back the darkness.

  Someone rolled off Jordan’s bed, someone too tall to be Jordan. Ross, obviously. Still fully clothed, thank goodness. And the bed was made. So whatever I’d interrupted hadn’t gotten to any embarrassing stage.

  “You’re home already,” Jordan said, sitting up. “It’s after ten thirty.”

  “I just wasn’t expecting you back so soon. Ross, was just, uh, Ross was just…you know.”

  Yeah, I knew.

  “Hey, Ross,” I said, to try to ease some of the tension in the room.

  “Hey. Guess I need to go.”

  “Can I turn on the light?” I asked.

  “Sure,” Jordan said.

  I flipped the switch. Poor Ross looked like he wished he was anywhere but where he was.

  “Night, babe,” he said, leaning down to give Jordan a quick kiss.

  He edged past me, mumbling sorry as he went. He closed the door behind him. I locked it.

  Jordan got out of bed, fluffed her hair that Ross had obviously already fluffed. Took a deep breath. Clapped her hands.

  “We need a signal,” she announced.

  “A signal?” I walked to my bed and dropped my backpack on it.

  “Yeah, you know, like, so we avoid embarrassing situations.”

  “I wasn’t embarrassed.” I sat on my bed and looked at her.

  “It could have gotten embarrassing. I mean, Ross and me, we’ve been going together for two years now.” She sat on the bed, folded her legs beneath her. “So sometimes, we get into some pretty heavy stuff. And okay”—she held up her hands—“part of the reason we both came here to work was so we could have a little alone time, because my dad would totally freak if he ever caught Ross in my room. You know how it is?”

  “Not really. Nick and I have only been dating for three months. We’re not into heavy stuff yet.”

  “That’s cool. I’m all about not rushing into something before you’re ready. But Ross, he’s my one and only. My dad just doesn’t get it. He keeps saying that he does get it, because he was young once, too, but that was, like, a hundred years ago. It is so not the same.”

  “It sounds like you’re close to your dad, though.”

  “Oh, yeah. He’s just unreasonable. What about your dad?”

  “Totally cool. He was the one who suggested I work here this summer.”

  She gave me this look like I was really clueless. “He wanted to get you away from your boyfriend.”

  I scoffed. “No way.”

  “I’ll bet you a day off that he had an ulterior motive, and it involved getting you away from your new boyfriend.”

  “Bet a day off?”

  “Yeah. You work during the night, I work during the day, so sometime you’ll work my shift so I have some extra time off.”

  “What? You just expect me to call up my dad and ask him?”

  “No, just sometime when you’re talking to him, let it slip into the conversation. We have all summer. I’m in no hurry for an extra day off.”

  “But you have to work my shift if you’re wrong?”

  “Certainly. I can dress up like Gretel. No problem.”

  “You’re on.” There was just no way that my dad was that underhanded or devious.

  “All right.” She got up, went to her dresser, and took out a silk scarf. “We’ll keep this on the inside of the door, but if it’s on the outside, then it means knock before you come in.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  “And if your boyfriend ever comes up here, then you can use it to signal me.”

  “I don’t think Nick has any plans to come up here.”

  “I don’t see how he can stay away. I mean, if he really loves you.”

  “But isn’t the opposite true? If I love him, I shouldn’t be able to stay here?”

  “Nah. The burden of proving love is always on the guy.”

  So why was I the one sending teddy bears?

  A thunderstorm struck late Wednesday afternoon. Which, as they’d explained in our orientation was usually bad news because all the rides had to shut down. And where do people go when the rides shut down and they want to avoid the rain?

  Into the gift shops.

  But what made this one worse than usual was that it struck with such ferocity and so quickly that it knocked out the power. And left people stranded at the top of roller coasters for a couple of hours before power could be restored.

  It was the main topic of conversation at the hump party. I’d decided to go because I couldn’t think of a good reason not to, especially since the park closed down early, due to the weather. It just didn’t seem like the rain was going to let up. Even though we got our power back, an amusement park without rides isn’t very amusing.

  Of course, since it was still raining, our options for where to hang out at Parker’s was limited. I’d decided on the back porch. So had a lot of other people, including Parker.

  Although he wasn’t standing right beside me, he was close enough that I could hear what he was saying.

  “Everything just stopped,” he said. “Except for the screams. It was totally weird. I’ve heard of this happening at other parks, but never here.”

  “I guess the one good thing was that they hadn’t started their descent,” Ross said.

  They’d just reached the apex on the tallest roller coaster in the park when the power cut off.

  “We have guys who inspect the rides every morning. They’re like monkeys getting to the top and we talked about trying to get the people down but, man, do you know how high that thing is?” Parker asked.

  “Three hundred and fifty feet,” I said. “Taller than the Statue of Liberty.”

  Everyone looked at me, and I felt like a total fact geek. I couldn’t help it. I liked trivia.

  “I’m impressed that a roller coaster phobe would know that,” Parker said grinning.

  I ignored his phobe comment. “And it travels at a hundred and twenty-five miles per hour.”

  “A total rush,” Parker said.

  It wasn’t the speed that bothered me. It was the dips, the curves, the loops, the feeling of not being in control. Plus the initial descent was almost a complete vertical drop.

  “Sure you don’t want to try it sometime?” he asked.

  “I’m sure.” I would have totally freaked if I’d been on it when the power went out.

  He left the group and moved closer to me, pressing his shoulder against the beam that supported the eave of the porch. “So what other stats do you know?”

  “Not a lot. Those just stuck with me because they were so…incredible. It’s like there has to be a limit on how high those things can safely go, how fast…”

  “Designers will continue to push the edge.”

  He was wearing a T-shirt that said, “I love it when you scream!” The words were superimposed over an image of a roller coaster.

  “You really like roller coasters, don’t you?” I said.

  “Love ’em.”

  “Have you ridden the one on top of that hotel in Vegas?”

  “Yep. I’ve been to more than twenty different theme parks. My dad’s a big enthusiast, so he pretty much made sure that all our summer vacations took us close to some park or another.”

  “So why not work at Disneyland, closer to home?”

  “The key words there are closer to home. Sometimes it’s good to just get away, you know? So why aren’t you working closer to home?”

  “The wedding.”

  He looked
like he’d just been dropped from the top of Magnum Force. “You’re engaged?”

  I laughed. “No, my sister is. I just wasn’t sure I could survive two more months of listening to my mom and sister arguing about the wedding.”

  “So what are they arguing about?”

  “What aren’t they arguing about? Name something.”

  “The groom.”

  “Actually, that’s the one thing they do agree on. It’s the details of the wedding that are causing the problem. Sarah doesn’t exactly go for the traditional.”

  “No?”

  I shook my head. “Her first choice was to wear a tuxedo.”

  He laughed. “You’re kidding?”

  “Nope.”

  “That sounds like something Jordan would do.”

  “How would you feel if your bride wore a tux?” I asked.

  “I think it would be a hoot as long as she didn’t expect me to wear a gown.” He shook his head. “Nah, I don’t think I’d want her to wear a tux.”

  “Neither did Bobby, which is the only reason that Sarah is wearing a gown, but Mom still chalked it up as a win for herself.”

  “She’s not actually keeping score.”

  “Yeah, actually they both are. It’s pathetic. Then Sarah comes to me and complains about Mom, then Mom will ask my opinion, and it’s so awkward, because I just want Sarah to be happy, but I want Mom to be happy, too, and I sorta understand where Mom is coming from. She and Dad got married behind a grocery store—”

  “What?”

  I smiled. “That’s how they always tell it. They got married by a justice of the peace and his office was behind the grocery store. Apparently my grandparents sat in the jury box and watched what my grandmother refuses to call ‘a ceremony.’ I think Mom wants Sarah’s wedding to be really special because hers wasn’t.”

  “Can’t argue with the results,” he said. “They’re still married, right?”

  “Yeah, they are. Twenty-eight years.”

  “My dad is on wife number three. And every wedding has been bigger and more expensive than the one that came before. There are already signs that this last one is on a downward death spiral. Mom is on boyfriend number eight. Each one younger than the one who came before.” He glanced toward the lake. “So that’s the reason I’m here.” He looked back at me. “I just like to be far away from the madness. Talked Jordan into coming this year. Because there’s going to be fallout. It’s never pretty when my parents end a relationship.”