Page 22 of Assigned

Chapter Eight

Riley

Stalls, booths, and various rides fill the giant grassy field. Some people wander around, popcorn or skewered meat in hand, as they play carnival games such as balloon pops, ring toss, and racing games. Others stand in long lines for rides. Lucas, however, remains quiet by my side, walking in a daze. I’d talked him into coming to the carnival, thinking it might take his mind off his troubles. Instead, it seems to have made him sink deeper into his funk.

I take his hand in mine. “What did the lawyer say?”

Lucas sighs heavily, his shoulders slumping. “Was an introductory meeting. Courts tend to side with the mother, and while he will try to get me a fair visitation schedule, if Lisa wants to follow it verbatim, there won’t be much I can do about it. With my job, she’d most likely get full custody. Not that it would be any different than what she unofficially has now.”

I chew the inside of my cheek, brows furrowed. So what really is changing then? “Is it the visitation that bothers you? Do you think she wouldn’t be flexible?”

He rakes his fingers through his blond hair. “She seemed really pissed. Never seen her like this. But with my job, if she isn’t flexible, I’m worried I won’t get to see Mason at all.”

I squeeze his hand. “All we can do is the best we can with what we can control.” That was one of the lessons I’d learned from being sick—to focus on what I can do, not what I wish I could do.

A couple of small children run past us carrying oversized stuffed animals, their faces painted with various designs. Ahead of us is a big canvas tent, the familiar smell of livestock emanating from within it. Most likely a petting zoo.

Lucas tugs me toward the row of food trailers to the left. Everything from chocolate-covered bacon to corn dogs to fried Oreos is being sold. All things I can’t or shouldn’t eat. Lucas stops at one of the carts. “Can I get two funnel cakes?”

I bite my lip and glance around to see the menu. There’s something I can eat. Thank God. “Actually, I’ll just take an unsalted pretzel.”

Lucas turns to me, eyebrow quirked. “Really?”

I wave a dismissive hand in the air. “Yeah, they never taste as good elsewhere as they do at a carnival. Even when I’ve gotten the frozen ones at the supermarket, they never come out right. And I’ve been craving one.”

“Okay, then. I’ll take one funnel cake and one pretzel.” Lucas pays and after we receive our food, we head over to some hay bales next to the ring toss and sit.

Above our heads some loose balloons float away into the darkening sky. Lucas takes a bite of his dessert and appears to be calming down. I nudge him playfully with my shoulder. “Glad you agreed to come out.”

“Thanks for the suggestion.” His smile is soft and not forced, almost reminiscent of the shy boy I once knew.

I bite into the warm dough of my pretzel and chew as we take in the sights and sounds. There’s something special about the aromatic mix of fresh cotton candy and motor oil. Something that can only be found at a carnival. And the hum of the engines running the various trucks and rides is soothing.

Lucas nudges me and points at the Fun House. “Wanna go?”

I snort, my eyes focused on the bored attendant taking tickets at the entrance. “Sure. Beats sitting on the scratchy hay bale.”

“Thought you’d be used to that.”

“It’s not like I’m wearing a sturdy pair of jeans like I would be if I was back home on the ranch.” Instead, I’m wearing black yoga pants with pocketed sides, a bright-yellow blouse with embellished swirls around the neckline, and a pair of Chucks. None of which protects me from prodding hay.

We finish our food and then head over to the haunted house. The place is packed. Lucas and I weave through the crowd. Someone bumps into me and I grab Lucas’s bicep to regain my balance.

Holy crap.

Lucas was always fit, but I don’t remember his arms feeling so solid. I swallow hard, my fingers curling around the vast muscle. He pulls me close and my heart begins to beat faster, body growing warmer. I look up momentarily as he glances down. His eyes are dilated and filled with a recognizable heat. I gulp and avert my gaze, almost thankful for the creepy clown laughter coming from the speakers.

Total mood killer. So’s the monster mouth opening we have to walk through. I peer into the darkness in front of us.

Lucas gives the attendant the tickets and I grab his hand as we enter. He looks down, then back at me. “Since when are you scared, Cupcake?”

“Hello... don’t you remember the haunted house we went to our sophomore year? You had to pick me up and carry me out.” I’m not one for being scared in the first place. I don’t like horror movies or scary books. But the fire department that sponsored the attraction went all out. We’d heard it was the best and all the proceeds were going to charity. Plus, everybody was going. I’d strolled in thinking it would all be good fun, but then a guy in a hockey mask jumped out from behind a curtain waving an axe, and I’d started screaming and couldn’t stop.

“Oh, yeah. How could I forget that? Had to throw you over my shoulder and double-time it out of there.” Lucas laughs and laces his fingers through mine. My heart stutters at the sensation and I find it hard to swallow. I can’t how much I missed his touch.

A couple of laughing teens push past us and I collide into Lucas. He wraps his arm around me to steady me, and his solid body ignites my nerve endings. While his smell and the cadence of his voice are familiar, the way he has changed physically is new. And exciting.

Ugh. Maybe it’s just that I haven’t gotten laid in like... forever.

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