Super Fake Love Song - David Yoon Page 0,61

go!” said Tracker to Gunner.

“Hi, Artemis Edenbaugh,” mumbled Gunner, before dashing outside with Tracker.

“Uh, okay?” said Artemis.

From outside came a sudden screeching sound—pteranodons in agony—loud enough to cause the din of the party to duck momentarily.

“What the hell,” I said.

“Injuries,” said Cirrus with immediate concern. “Please no injuries.”

We scrambled outside and quickly found the source of the anguish: a small crowd of people at the other end of the zip line.

“No no no,” said Cirrus.

We ran. We shoved our way through the crowd.

In the foam pit were Jamal and Milo, holding each other.

“Arrrayayayaya!” they screamed joyfully.

“Oh for the love of sweet Jesus,” cried Cirrus with a laugh.

“You guys scared the crap out of me,” I said. “I got a Hershey submarine stuck in my port of call.”

Everyone looked at me: Do you?

“You guys have to do this,” said Jamal. “We figured out how to connect two harnesses for partner runs.”

“Is that safe?” I said.

“No,” said Milo.

Cirrus kissed my cheek. “You wanna fly?”

There was only one answer to that question.

Milo and Jamal climbed out of the pit. Milo undid his gear, then reached over to de-harness and de-helmet a dazed Jamal with the alarming efficiency of a New Zealand sheep shearer.

Together Cirrus and I climbed the scaffolding until we were at the top. There, an operator waited with a tablet.

“Thumbprints here, guys,” said the operator.

We signed away our souls as well as those of our unborn.

“I recommend helping each other get strapped in,” said the operator. “Many couples find it a very intimate experience.”

I held the harness open as Cirrus stepped into it. I tightened the straps around her thighs, her waist, her shoulders. I had never been this close to any girl before Cirrus. Cirrus was my first. The best first any boy could ever hope for.

“Your turn,” said Cirrus.

Cirrus put my harness on for me, and the operator was right. It was an extremely intimate experience.

Finally we clipped our carabiners and held each other tight.

“One,” said Cirrus. She had her arm around my shoulder.

“Two,” I said. I had mine around hers.

“Three!”

We shoved off.

Far below, the party bounced and screamed and vibrated. But up here it was strangely quiet. This situation probably demanded that we demonstrate our thrill with requisite performative screams and yelps, similar to when you ride a roller coaster.

I discovered long ago, however, that roller coasters were more fun—contemplative, even—when I didn’t scream. A silent roller coaster ride gave me the illusion that I was a veteran dragon pilot expertly chaining together updrafts for speed. Aerial warlocks did not yell and whoop as they rode. The skies were simply theirs.

Sunny, the Ultraviolet King.

Cirrus, the Queen of Clouds.

“You are so beautiful,” I said.

“You are,” said Cirrus.

Did she really truly believe such a thing? That we could be beautiful together? It was hard for me to tell all that was in those eyes of hers. Too much, flashing by all too quickly as we glided through the air: admiration and affection and wonder.

And trust.

I wanted every bit of her trust. Having her trust, I knew, was the highest honor.

The cable vanished and we unfurled wings of milky translucence. Far ahead I spied a forest silent and dark but for a single will-o’-the-wisp promising to guide us through. To where?

The party grew louder; the foam crash pit was coming at us fast. That gave us a reason to finally start screaming.

“Whoaaaaa!” I said.

“Kah ha ha ha!” said Cirrus.

Without thinking we clasped each other tight. The impact smacked my helmet into Cirrus’s, close enough to inhale her every exhale as we drowned in blue cubes.

Milo was right—this was not safe at all.

The moment I helped Cirrus out of the pit, someone body-slammed me to a padded column.

“So glad you’re here,” said Gunner with breath so strong a single stray spark could have lit it into a cone of blue flame.

“I’m glad you’re here, too,” I said, coughing.

Cirrus leaned in to join the scrum. “Thanks for getting the whole school to come.”

“Snuthing,” said Gunner. He looked around, spotted Artemis, glanced at me and Cirrus, and sighed a melancholy sigh. “Snuthing at all.”

“Your apron is so cute!” Artemis screamed, and led a perplexed Cirrus away.

Cirrus glanced at me: I guess I’m going now?

I shrugged back: You made a friend!

I was chuckling, but stopped when I saw Gunner thumb his wet nose and wet red eyes over and over again. He fought away his look of open longing and palmed my shoulder. “You wanna drink, man?”

Normally I would’ve responded with Alcohol is for victims,