Charlie puts his hand on top of mine, holding it tight, anchoring me. “It’s okay. I got you now, okay? I got you,” he says.
I look over. It’s the first time he’s had my back in ages, the first time he’s tried, the first time I’ve let him. I nod. “Okay,” I say.
For one agonizing second, it feels like we actually stop at the peak, the train poised between the past and the future, and then the first seat starts to tilt over, and both of Ruby’s hands shoot straight up, and then our car is at the top, and I gulp hard, looking at my hands, and it’s still there, Charlie’s left hand clasped on top of my right, keeping me from flying away.
I squeeze my eyes shut, and we fly down, down, down, so fast, and I open my eyes, and the world is a blur around us, the seats shaking on the wooden track, the wind blowing fast and strong, and my mouth pulls back in a smile, because Charlie’s not going to let me go, and it all feels familiar then, my brother’s hand on mine and the soaring feeling—a feeling I thought I never had—the memory of wings.
Thirty-Three
WHILE WE’RE WAITING FOR Charlie to bring our LaRosa’s pizza, Ruby and I watch the Diamondback coaster glide down the hill, all power and momentum, slicing through the surface of the lake below it, water splashing everywhere.
“I want to do that one next,” she says.
“White Water Canyon,” I remind her.
Since riding the Beast this morning, we’ve tackled the Banshee, the Racer, and the Vortex roller coasters. While the lines for each have gotten longer as the day’s gone on, the rides have also been a little less scary each time. Turns out, roller coasters make me laugh, which isn’t the worst thing. That being said, the upside-down loops on the Vortex left me feeling both queasy and hungry, and as the day is getting progressively warmer, rather than going straight to another coaster, I insisted we stop for food and then a nice hill-free water ride.
“All right, all right. I guess we have time for something else,” she says with an enormous dramatic sigh. She looks over her shoulder for Charlie, then leans closer. “So what’s the deal with you and Finn?”
“Nothing. There’s no deal,” I say.
“You came looking for him that night at the Float, and then next thing I know, you’re not ‘associating’ with him,” she says, doing finger quotes.
“It’s more like he’s not associating with me,” I say. “He doesn’t want anything to do with me.”
Ruby rolls her eyes. “Oh my God, you guys are both such dorkwads.”
“Hey! What does that mean?”
“He said the same thing when I asked him about you. He said you blew him off.”
“That’s totally not true!”
“He said the last time you talked, you couldn’t get away from him fast enough.”
I try to remember our encounter at the Float and shake my head. “Not him. Johnny.”
Ruby straightens. “Did something happen?”
I shrug.
“Was it more of that crap he pulled the other day with you in the parking lot?”
I don’t answer.
“Parker, you should tell Finn.”
“No, it’s fine. Besides, it was more than that. Finn also got super weird when I gave him a gift certificate, going on about charity.”
I stop.
Kids in our class used to say Finn got his clothes from the lost-and-found box, that he never had any money for lunch.
Charity is the last thing he wants from me.
“Crap,” I say, burying my head in my hands.
“What?” Ruby asks, but I just shake my head.
“Listen,” she continues. “Maybe give the friendship thing another chance. I know I complain about him. But he’s like my brother. He can be really thoughtful when you need a friend.”
Her words remind me of how quickly he came to my rescue the day he picked me up from the hospital, how he adjusted the air vents in his truck so all the cool air would blow my way.
“One day when I just started working at the Float, all those girls from my honors class came in, the ones I was trying to be friends with?” Ruby nervously moves one of the twenty silver bracelets she’s wearing back and forth on her wrist. “They had just come from prom and were with their dates, and it took them, like, five minutes to even realize they knew me. But I’m pretty sure Finn took extra-long with their orders because he could tell I was upset.”
Of course he did.
“Finn Casper is actually a really good person, though if you ever tell him I said that, I will deny it to my dying day. Besides, he keeps asking if you’re doing okay, and I’m tired of answering for you.”
“Why wouldn’t I be doing okay?” I ask, even though I know exactly what he’s referring to.
She takes a steadying breath and then looks me straight in the face, and in the sunlight, I can see the specks of amber glinting gold in her eyes. “Truth time? Maybe it’s because you haven’t told anyone in your family that you quit your internship yet?”
My stomach tightens. I wondered if Ruby was going to bring that up. She clearly caught my lie at Skyline. I’ve been avoiding Em for this very reason, and the last thing I want to do is fight with Ruby about it.
“It’s not that easy,” I say, and as the words leave my mouth, I feel myself get hotter, sweat pooling behind my knees, my palms getting clammy.
“I’m not saying it is. I just think maybe you should talk about it with someone.” She looks away, fidgeting even more with her silver bracelets, the charms as jangly as she is, and then the realization dawns on me with all the subtlety of one of those cartoon anvils dropping on someone from overhead.
“Oh crap. Ruby, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to put you in an awkward position.”
She looks up, confused.
“It’s not fair of me to ask you to keep my secret in front of Charlie. I’m sorry!”
Ruby lets out a relieved half laugh. “No, that’s not it at all. It’s just, well . . .” She looks over at the Diamondback roller coaster, like she’s nervous about what she’s going to say next. “I just thought I could be the someone when you want to talk. No pressure or anything.”
“Oh,” I say. “I mean, thank you.”
She nods, and the two of us are quiet. I can see Ruby’s eyes tracing the path of the cars as they sleekly move along the tracks.
“You really love roller coasters, don’t you?” I ask after a few seconds.
She nods easily. “Totally. If I didn’t want to be a doctor, I’d design roller coasters.”
“You’d be awesome at that.”
“What would you be?”
“What?”
“If you weren’t going to be a doctor, what would you be?”
“I . . . I don’t . . . I’m not . . .”
Ruby waits, squinting in the sunlight, her attention fully on me.
The range of possible answers feels as dark and endless and lonely as outer space, but I remind myself this person in front of me wants to be my friend.
“I have no clue,” I finally admit.
“Was there something you wanted to be when you were a kid, before you knew you wanted to be a doctor? I thought I wanted to be an artist who painted roses.” She laughs at herself.
I pause for a second. “Actually, I wanted to be my dad,” I say, surprised at the memory.
“You wanted to be a copywriter?”
I shake my head. “No, I just wanted to be happy like him. And this was before he worked at the copywriting firm. Back then I didn’t know what he did exactly, but I knew that’s what I wanted—to come home and be as happy as he was.”
Before I can focus too much on it, Charlie returns. “One large pepperoni pizza,” he says, sliding the box onto our metal table with a flourish.
Ruby looks like she wants to say more about the internship, about our dad, but I’m ready to change the subject.
“Why does the pizza always smell so much better here than it does at the actual restaurants?” I open the box and grab a slice, cheese pulling apart at the edges.
Ruby hands Charlie a ten, but he shakes his head. “I got it, Roo.”
I expect her to reprimand him for the shortening of her name like she did with Finn, but instead she smiles shyly.
I bite into the cheesy goodness and try not to think too hard about my conversation with Ruby.