only met him because Cole Simpson tripped her with his bag. Yesterday, I stopped that from happening and she came to the carnival alone. Today, I wasn’t around to prevent it, and they’re here together.
Is it possible that something good actually came out of Cole Simpson being a total jerk?
“Well, it was nice to meet you…” Sophia says, fishing for my name.
“Ellie,” I say, then point at Owen, “and this is Owen.”
“I’m Sophia, and this is Nate. Maybe we’ll see you around school?”
I nod. “Yeah. See ya.”
I watch them walk away, shoulders brushing. Nate reaches over and tries to steal a piece of Sophia’s cotton candy. She giggles and pulls it away, but he snags it anyway. She does the same thing with his pretzel.
“Friends of yours?” Owen asks.
I shake my head. “Just someone who I thought needed help, but it turned out she didn’t.”
A few more seconds pass and Owen asks, “So, are we going to stalk them, too?”
I laugh and punch him on the arm. “Shut up.”
“I’m just asking so I can be prepared. I should warn you, though, I left all my spy gear in my other pants.”
I start walking. “You’re obnoxious.”
“I’ll tell you right now, though,” Owen says, trying and failing to sound serious. “There’s no way that Nate guy can rock the ring toss as well as me and Dr. Johnson.”
“Halloway,” I correct him. “And about that, are you going to tell me how you did it or what?”
Owen shrugs. “I told you. Beginner’s luck.”
“No way. I don’t believe you. You have to have been practicing. Do you have, like, a ring toss game set up in your basement or something?”
He guffaws. “Um, that would be weird.”
I grab on to his arm and give it a petulant tug. “Then tell me!”
“Nope.”
“Owen!”
He playfully yanks his arm from my grasp, trying to get away, but our hands catch, and for a moment we’re just standing there, both staring down at our tangled fingers, wondering what to do next. Wondering who will let go first.
“There you are,” a voice says, breaking into the bubble that seemed to have formed around Owen and me. My head whips up in surprise and I see Tristan standing in front of us. His eyes are locked on our intertwined fingers.
I pull my hand free and let it fall to my side.
Tristan clears his throat. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Where have you been?”
I take a step sideways, away from Owen. “Here. At the carnival.”
“I figured,” he says. His voice is so monotone. Like a blank white wall with no pictures. “You weren’t answering your phone or any of my texts so I thought I’d try to find you here.”
“My phone is busted.” I keep my voice equally flat.
Tristan’s gaze darts between me and Owen. “Can we, um, talk?”
I turn to Owen. “I’ll just … give me a minute?”
“Sure. Whatever.” I don’t miss the irritable edge to his words as he walks away.
Tristan nods his head toward a nearby bench—the same bench where he first broke up with me, where this crazy Alice in Wonderland of a week started. “Do you wanna sit down?”
“No, I’ll stand.”
Tristan shifts his weight nervously from foot to foot. “Okay. Um. I’m not sure where I should start. I just came by to talk to you about something, and I didn’t want to do it over the phone.”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re breaking up with me,” I say impatiently. “What’s your lame excuse this time?”
I am so not in the mood to stand here and listen to this same babbling speech all over again. I figure I better just move things right along.
Tristan flinches, looking completely taken aback. “Uh…” he stammers.
“I’m too clingy? We’re not a match? Something is broken. What?”
“Something is broken,” Tristan says, sounding relieved that I plucked the words right out of his head. “I’m just not sure what it is.”
“Have you ever stopped to think that maybe you’re the one who’s broken?”
For a moment, Tristan is completely speechless. Then he appears to gather his thoughts. “I just don’t want any drama in my life.”
“Oh, right!” I say, like I’m having some big epiphany. “The drama!” My voice is loud enough to attract the attention of passersby. I can tell the attention—and my volume—is making Tristan uncomfortable. So I keep going. “You and your drama queens! You don’t want any drama. You just wanna sail through life on the smoothest, glassiest sea. And as soon as you get one inkling of an incoming wave, you jump