Page 37 of The County Fair Queen

Not that I wanted his arms around me, or anything.

Shit. Did I? My head felt like it was being held underwater, but that couldn't be the case, because I could still breathe through my mouth. Had I gone insane? This was just for show. I needed to remind myself of that little factoid. None of this was real. Not for me, and certainly not for Rivers. I mean, the man was straight.

Wait, was he? He'd been married once. He had a child. Vaginal sex must have transpired at one point.

"Come on," I said. "Let's ride."

"You sure you're up for it?" he asked.

"I only smashed my face," I said playfully. "I think I can manage sitting stationary on a moving cart."

"Maybe we should wait a while." He stalled, cocking his head to the side and staring at me. I didn't know what the hell the problem was. I was fine. Perfectly marvelous, actually. Sure, my face more than likely looked like a slab of ground beef, but that was beside the point. I was on top of the world, but Rivers wasacting like a stick in the mud. He reminded me of an overbearing parent, and, having never actually dealt with one of those, I wasn't having it. I reached forward and thumped him for all I was worth.

I must have thumped him a bit too hard.

"Motherfudger! Good grief, Firecracker. What was that for?"

"You're being a spoilsport," I said, placing my fingers in their thump-ready position again. He leaned back and slapped my hand away.

"No. Not again. That really hurt," he said. Tears welled in his eyes. They were just sitting there, dripping down his face like tiny little raindrops. It was my fault they were there, and I felt a personal obligation to remove them from his flawless skin. I'd planned on wiping them away, but my arms somehow found themselves hooked over his shoulders affectionately. With no free hands, I used the only tool in my arsenal. Leaning forward, I kissed the spot on his cheek where they lay falling, not worrying about the taste of salt they left on my lips. His breathing quickened, and then his hands found my hips, nails digging in roughly through the fabric of my shirt. When I pulled away, he was nibbling on his bottom lip. After an uncomfortable stretch of silence, he smirked, running his thumb against the length of my mouth.

"Jesus, Firecracker," he whispered.

After stepping away, he held his hand out for me. I stared at it, memorizing the three freckles in the center. I reached out, wanting to trace their path in every possible pattern. But I only managed to connect the dots twice before he slid his fingers between mine and tugged, pulling me up from the ambulance's bumper. He led me toward the ride, allowing me to lean on him for support. I was fairly confident I could have managed on my own, but I wasn't sure I wanted to.

Once in our cart, I watched the world shrink small beneath us. Aunt Lurlene was at a vendor stall, gossiping about God knows what. The camera crew were next to the spaceship ride, and Brenda/Carole was chain vaping plumes of plum-scented water vapor into the faces of anyone unlucky enough to cross her path. Just a bit further down, by the ring toss and the sledgehammer strength tester, Jordan and Beau were playing a game that involved aiming a BB gun at unsuspecting glass jars as Fudge allowed a little girl to pet him. To their side, my father had his arms folded over his chest, watching intently. Beau was aiming his gun at the jars, while Jordan stood behind him, trying to help the kid with his aim. Unfortunately, being a left-leaning liberal like myself, Jordan Miller knew nothing about guns. Preston did, though. When it was Jordan's turn, my father stepped behind him, helping him aim. When he pulled the trigger, the bottles must have toppled, because Jordan dropped the gun and spun around, clapping his hands. He leaped into my father's arms, wrapping his legs around his waist, and held on for dear life. I would have given anything to see my father's scrunched-up face at that moment. The embarrassment at having a man throw himself on him in front of the whole town. The mortification that would ensue when he came to terms with the fact that he'd—if only for a moment—allowed some of that ice around his heart to thaw.

"When we get off this ride, remind me to fire him," I said.

"Are you sure about that?" Rivers asked, inching closer to me. "You seem like you'd be lost without him."

"And you seem like a raging narcissist, but you don't see me pointing that out just to make you feel bad. I mean, Christ, Riv, are you actively trying to insult me right now?"

He chuckled softly, darting his eyes in my direction. When he caught my gaze, he blushed brighter than I'd ever seen him.

"What?" I said.

"Nothing. I just like seeing you like this."

"Bruised and bloodied? Does someone have a pain kink?"

"Goofball." He rested his hand on top of mine, though I wasn't sure why. There were no cameras to capture the moment. No showrunners screaming out for us to make it look believable. Just the boy who ran, who turned into a man. A man who stayed when he didn't have to. A man who was helping for reasons I still didn't understand. "No. Just… the way you are now. Before you left, you were this quiet little kid. When we had to do that science project together, you hardly even said two words to me."

"Yeah, well, gay teens and jocks don't generally go hand in hand."

He stared down at our hands; the way they fit together like stitched patchwork, each complimenting the other. His thumb stroked my skin delicately, like he was afraid if he tugged too hard, those metaphorical stitches might unravel.

"They do now." He paused, staring up at the sky, unable—or, perhaps, unwilling—to meet my gaze.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"It's just… I've never really told anyone before." He forced a laugh, but there was no smile on his face. Not even so much as a gentle grin. "No one but Sabrina, at least." He turned his face away from me, staring off into the empty field to his right. "I'm bisexual."

"You're bi?" My heart slammed in my chest. He was bi? Rivers Rivera?

"That's why I ran off that night. I was scared. Terrified someone would see us, and they'd put two and two together. I wasn't ready to come out." His gaze flickered back to the sky. "I should have danced with you. Iwantedto."

"You did?"

---