Page 73 of Just This Once

He nodded. “Total coincidence. You hungry?”

I turned toward the entrance. “Starved.”

Together we melted with the crowd, funneling through the roped entryway and into the heart of the event. It was a time capsule of childhood nostalgia, where the rides seemed to havegrown up right along with you—a little creaky but still chugging along through life.

“It’s funny how every carnival is always exactly the same,” Whip noted.

I turned to him. “I was just thinking the same thing.” My attention wandered to the chipped paint and rusted lettering of the nearby Tilt-A-Whirl. “I’m one thousand percent positive this carnival company is the same one that would do the carnival in the town I grew up in. The foundation had to pay them incash.” I shook my head and laughed. “Probably the same workers too.”

Whip looked around us. “I wouldn’t doubt it.” He sucked in a deep breath. “Who would have thought the smell of funnel cake and engine oil would be so appealing.”

“Yes, funnel cake!” I grabbed his arm and dragged him toward the first food vendor I saw. My hand dropped from his biceps as soon as we got in line, and I itched to touch him again. Being this close, out in the open, felt forbidden and exciting.

He looked at me. “Looks like you pulled it off.”

I glanced around at the smiling faces. The circus calliope music played behind us as we waited to order. “Everyone loves a carnival. I was surprised by how much I really loved all the planning that went into the fundraisers. It makes sense, I guess. I love a good plan.”

We stepped forward, and he looked down at me. “What is your plan, Prim? What’s next for you?”

When Whip’s slate eyes bore into me like that, the world seemed to fade away. He had a way of making me feel seen.Chosen. The sick irony was that I’d been chosen by the one man I couldn’t have.

His question held a silent weight, as if my brain was also asking,What’s next for us?With the way things were, I’d never be more than a secret. I knew it would be safer to not let whatever it was that was building inside me go too far. Thingswould get only messier if my feelings went uncontained. Instead of letting my tumbling feelings get the best of me, I stuffed them down and focused my attention on having a fun time.

“Well, school’s out.” I smiled. “Mrs. Kirk officially put in her resignation, so I would like to transition to a full-time teacher at Outtatowner Junior High.”

His eyes studied my face, and then he shrugged and looked forward. “You’ll get it.”

His vote of confidence infused me with pleasure, and I grinned. “I think so too.”

After we ordered—funnel cake for me and a corn dog for him—we continued weaving our way through the people. So many had gathered that I recognized only a handful of faces in the smiling crowd. Despite the number of strangers that surrounded us, something about Outtatowner always felt safe, welcoming. The town sign promised it was a place where strangers became friends, and that was exactly how it felt.

I breathed in a lungful of July air and sighed. “I really like it here.”

Whip looked around. “It’s a great place.” His pace slowed and he glanced at me. “I’m surprised you haven’t been here more often.”

I tossed my used paper boat into a nearby trash can and dusted off my fingers. “I visited my parents once or twice, but by the time Dad got the job as chief, I was already living in Virginia.”

Whip’s lips formed a line. “Did you like it down there?”

Apprehension coiled in my stomach. “Um.” I hated talking about that time in my life and the mistakes I had made. “It was okay at first.” We walked side by side, and he gave me space to continue. With my eyes trained in front of me, I searched for the guts to open up to him. “The guy I was dating had gotten a jobdown there—that’s how I ended up in Virginia in the first place. He’s a firefighter.”

“Ahh...” Humor danced in Whip’s eyes. “So that’s why you hate us.”

I laughed. “I don’t hate you, I just...knowyou.”

“Oh yeah? What do you know?” he asked.

“Just the type.” I waved my hand inarticulately in the air. “Adrenaline junkies. Always looking for the next exciting thing. Running into fires and saving cats from trees to get a kiss from the stay-at-home mom.”

His brows pinched down. “That is oddly specific.”

I lifted a shoulder. “Well, in my case, the next exciting thing wasn’t the stay-at-home mom, it was my best friend and co-teacher.”

He shook his head. “Ouch.”

“Yeah, that was very un-fun information to find out. After I caught them—inmycar no less—I couldn’t even look at her, let alone teach in the same room and be everything our students needed.” The familiar pinch of failure to see the year through poked my ribs. “So I quit. I left at the end of the semester. Came here and took a pay cut and Mrs. Kirk’s maternity leave job just to finish the school year.”

“Well, it wasn’t because he was a firefighter.” The rasp in his voice rolled over me. “It was because he’s a fucking idiot.”