Burnout - Coralee June Page 0,32

stare before the taunt even escaped his lips.

“What, you scared, punk?” Decker asked, knowing full well that I was prideful and would have to take him up on his challenge,

“Nope. Let’s go, brother dear. No puking on my uniform, okay?” I grabbed Lance’s wrist and hauled him toward the line, leaving Decker behind. A balding man opened the gate and let us in, and we sat on something that looked like it was held together with duct tape.

“Oh God, this was a bad idea,” I mumbled as Lance buckled me in with a chuckle.

“You’ll be fine,” he said before letting out a yelp.

The monster started. My heart pounded. Round and around we went. The carnival was a blur of colors, and thirty seconds in, I was about ready to throw up the funnel cake I had just eaten.

Safely on the ground, Decker watched and laughed at us. I was certain that my face was turning green. The asshole had the audacity to get out his phone and take a recording just as I was placing a hand over my mouth to hold back the bile rising up. Yeah, I definitely didn’t like carnivals.

Round.

Around.

Spinning.

Crying.

Stopping.

The ride halted, but my brain was still swimming in movement, my eyes struggling to focus on one particular thing.

“Oh my gosh, that’s the most fun I’ve ever had. Can we do it again?” Lance asked. I turned to look at him, my brow scrunched in confusion.

“Did you not see me almost puke all over us?” I asked with a light chuckle. His joy was almost infectious, and somewhere between nearly throwing up and screaming my head off, I stopped thinking of carnivals as Mama’s thing and started thinking of them as Lance’s.

“Oh, you survived,” Lance replied playfully before shoving my shoulder. We got off the ride and walked over to meet Decker, who was barely containing his laughter. I wanted to punch him in the dick.

“You alright there, Blakely?” Decker asked, his eyes looking me up and down as I tried to regain control of my equilibrium. I wasn’t sure if my brain was spinning from the ride or the heated stare Decker was giving me. I looked down and realized my collar had slipped during the voracious spinning, showing off the edge of my lace bra. I pulled it back up before answering him.

“Never been better,” I said in a singsong voice. I knew that he wouldn’t have to ask me for my truth. It was written all over my green face.

“I want to do another ride!” Lance said while looking around for his next thrill. I really wanted to please him. Not just because he was letting me live in his house rent free, but because he was genuinely a nice person, and I liked his childlike view of the world. Everything was an adventure. Against my better judgment, I was starting to really like my brother.

“How about we do something a little less… intense?” I offered with a shrug. “There’s a Ferris wheel over there, that looks like fun.” And less deadly.

The look on Lance’s face made my heart mend just a little bit more. It was like he was superglue, trying to bring the traitorous broken thing in my chest back together. “Yes!” he exclaimed. “I’ve always wanted to ride a Ferris wheel.”

Decker rolled his eyes, apparently too cool for the hallmark of all carnival rides. “You too, Mr. Grumpy Pants. If I have to get up on a Ferris wheel, so do you,” I said to him.

Walking over to the Ferris wheel, we started chatting with one another then got in line. Decker only provided one word responses and had his arms crossed over his chest. I didn’t really understand why he was being so difficult. Usually, Decker went along with pretty much anything Lance said. And even though he was particularly broody, he was never down right disagreeable. No, that was a lie. He had been disagreeable when I first showed up in Memphis. Something was up with him, and I wanted to know what.

We had just gotten to the front of the line when Lance let out a curse. “Fuck. My wallet’s not in my pocket. It must’ve fallen out of the last ride.” I winced. That was part of the collateral damage when it came to carnivals. One of the things I didn’t tell Decker—and definitely didn’t tell Lance—was that Mama liked to pickpocket at carnivals. People lost their stuff on the crazy rides all the time.

“Y’all go ahead.