tell me what he was thinking, and in return, I'd tell him what I was thinking.
Happily, I had so many thoughts bouncing around in my brain that I could pick and choose at random. For example, part me was thinking that today was a lovely spring day while another part of me was thinking that I'd just love to get naked with the least-safe person I'd ever met.
Chase Blastoviak.
Fortunately, he found me repulsive.
Mental note. Stick with the weather.
Finally, I said, "Alright, it's a deal." I studied his profile. "So…what are you thinking?"
He gave me a long sideways glance. "You want the truth?"
"Definitely."
"I was thinking of renting some hogs."
"What?" I laughed. "You can't be serious."
But Chase wasn't laughing. "The hell I'm not."
"Oh come on," I said. "First of all, I don't think hogs are something you can rent. And second of all, why would you want to?"
"Why else?" he said. "Liver disposal."
"Whose liver? I hope you don't mean mine." I frowned. "Or my dad's."
"Eh, your liver's safe."
With growing unease, I asked, "And my dad's?"
"Also safe."
Well, that was a relief. "Alright, so…" I tried to think. "Whose liver are we talking about here?"
"This guy named Bryce."
I blinked. "Wait, you don't mean my Bryce?"
"Wanna bet?"
"But you don't even know him."
With a tight shrug, Chase returned his attention to the road. After a long moment, he said in a quiet voice, "He hurt you."
The statement, so simple and honest, caught me off-guard.
Yes. Bryce had hurt me, quite a bit, in fact. But Chase didn't know the details, and now I was worried that I'd somehow given him the wrong impression.
I tried for a laugh. "Yeah, well, it was just a bad breakup, that's all."
"No, it wasn't."
I asked, "But how would you know?"
"Easy," he said. "A dad doesn't go after some guy's liver for a bad breakup."
I saw his logic. Still, I wasn't quite prepared to concede the point. "But my dad didn't go for his liver. And neither did I. See? So it wasn't that bad, just like I said."
As I spoke, I turned forward once again and almost did a double-take. I'd been so engrossed in our conversation that I'd half-forgotten where we were going. The reminder came just in time as I spotted the narrow road that led to the fairgrounds.
I pointed. "Look, it's our turn."
Chase shook his head. "No. It's your turn." He gave me a meaningful glance. "Now c'mon. Tell me what's on your mind."
Chapter 40
Chase
She didn't tell me.
Instead, she served up some bullshit answer about the weather, something about it being unseasonably warm, a good day to tour the fairgrounds, and so on.
It was nothing I hadn't known already.
The funniest thing was, she'd taken maybe five minutes to say it, talking with barely a breath until I'd parked in the designated area and cut the engine. And then, she'd bolted from the car so fast, you'd think the thing was on fire.
She'd said nothing about Bryce.
But now, she was saying plenty about the Tomato Festival as we walked through the fairgrounds, giving it a preliminary look.
There wasn't much to see.
What Mina called the fairgrounds was maybe ten acres of open field with a couple of paved areas, a big red barn in the distance, and a large cinderblock rec center that she was calling Hazelton Hall.
I saw nothing impressive except the girl I was with. Her hair was golden blonde in the afternoon sun, and her eyes were so blue, they put the sky to shame.
I wasn't one to wax poetic, but there was something about her – something fresh and interesting that was making it hard for me to keep my mind on the campaign.
As we walked along the empty field, she pointed somewhere off to our left. "See that spot over there?"
I looked. "Yeah?"
"That's where the midway will go."
Absently, I replied, "Good to know."
She pointed again. "And right there, they'll have a stage. That's where they'll have a band if there is one – and where they'll crown the Tomato Queen, too."
I recalled one of the first two photos she'd shown me by accident. It was the pageant photo, the one of Mina with her sash and crown. According to the sash, she'd been first runner-up – a real travesty the way I saw it, unless the winner was Venus herself.
As we continued to walk, Mina pointed out several more spots – where vendors would set up tents, where the Ferris Wheel would go, where there'd be a first-aid station, and so on.
Some of this, I already