his lips. “Only all the time. You should get up there and totally fall on your butt. It will be so fun, and then it won’t be scary anymore, ’cause you’ll have already fallen.”
It took a little more coaxing but I finally agreed. I allowed myself to be strapped in. I climbed to the top of that pole, stood on the top, and fell. Right into the net.
That’s how Owen got me over my fear of the ropes course.
I glance up at the Ferris wheel again. “This is nothing like that, Owen. There’s no harness. There’s no net. And I don’t think that contraption has been tested for quality control in years.”
Owen still hasn’t let go of my arm. I glance down at his hand wrapped around me.
“What’s the worst that can happen?” he asks me.
“Um, I die.”
He makes the same pshh sound. It brings me back to that day at the ropes course, when nine-year-old Owen talked me into strapping on that harness. “Don’t be daft. You won’t die.”
“Objection. I could die.”
“Objection. Lack of foundation.”
“I have plenty of foundation,” I counter. “I watched this documentary once about traveling carnivals and—”
“You and your documentaries!”
“Yes, me and my documentaries. They’re very informative.”
“Whatever. I don’t care. You’re getting on that Ferris wheel.”
“No, I’m not. I’m sorry, Owen. I can’t do it. I’m not as brave as you.”
I feel his hand slip from my arm, leaving behind a cold spot where his skin used to be. He stares off for a moment, looking conflicted. “I’m not that brave.” He says this so softly, I almost don’t hear it over the sounds of the carnival around us.
“Yeah, right. You’re the bravest person I know.”
He drops his gaze to the ground. “Trust me. There are plenty of things I wish I could do, but I can’t.”
“Like what?” I challenge.
He rubs absentmindedly at his chin and peers over at me. Our eyes meet somewhere in the middle of this small space between us. He takes a deep breath, like he’s sucking in invisible courage from the air. “Like—”
“Excuse me!” someone behind us yells. “Are you gonna move up?”
We both blink and turn our heads. The line has progressed several feet and there’s now a giant gap in front of us. Owen moves up, and when I hesitate he grabs me again—this time by the hand—and coaxes me forward.
I stand on tiptoes to count the heads in front of us. There are only ten more people until it’s our turn. My stomach does a full somersault.
“I really don’t think I can do this.”
He sighs, losing his patience. “You can.”
“My stomach is in knots. I think I’ll just sit off to the side and let you go.”
“What if he asked you?” The question comes out of nowhere. Like a slap to the face. Owen’s tone has an unexpected edge to it.
“What?”
“What if he asked you to ride the Ferris wheel with him? You’d do it, wouldn’t you? Without a moment’s hesitation. You’d suck it up and you’d get on the stupid ride.”
“Objection,” I complain. “Argumentative.”
“Oh, stop it, Ellie. You know I’m right.” Now he sounds downright angry. Where did this come from? What happened to the kind, funny, normal Owen I was waiting in line with a few seconds ago? How many faces does he have?
“I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m saying with him, you’re different. You lose yourself around him. You’re not you. You’re someone else. Someone you think he wants to hang out with. It’s like you play dead around him.”
My skin feels itchy. I scratch at my arms. “That’s not true.”
Owen barks out a sharp, cynical laugh. “Oh no? What are you wearing?” He gestures to my skirt. “What is this? It’s certainly not you.”
“It’s the new me,” I argue, but the rationale feels weak and thin on my lips.
He turns his back to me. I’m so mad now, I’m about to leave. He can ride the stupid ride himself. I’m going home.
But before I can take a single step, Owen spins around again, his face all flushed, his eyes narrowed. “You just don’t get it, do you? You don’t have to do this. Any of this. You don’t have to be someone else. He should like you for who you already are. You are one of the most unique, crazy, quirky, passionate people I know. You fight. You argue for things. You speak your mind. You get jealous.”
An invisible rock forms in my throat. I try to swallow it down but it