Page 129 of Deceit

Before I can respond, she hands the ride attendant our tickets and suddenly we are brushing past him moving to the available chair in front of us. It’s the metal kind. The one that moves a lot and squeaks and moans when you sit on it. Also known as the super dangerous kind. Maggie all but shoves me into the seat before she pauses.

“Oh no,” she says with fake disappointment. “I forgot. I have dinner plans with my parents. I have to go. Asher! Will you ride with my girl?” Maggie says.

He looks at her for several seconds, before he hops up and over the ride’s fence as he comes up to pass Maggie. She whispers something to him, but I can’t quite hear it as she scurries off, heading in the direction where we parked. Oh my god, the little bitch is actually ditching me.

Asher plops down into the seat, consuming three quarters of the bench with how large he is. He pulls down what seems to be a safety bar before it clicks into place. My hands wrap around it, clinging to it for dear life, as a cold sweat begins to break out starting at my forehead and moving all the way to my toes.

The ride jerks forward, forcing us to begin raising as my stomach starts to churn. God, I hate heights.

“Hey, open your eyes,” Asher says gently.

I don’t realize that my eyes are closed until I slowly blink them open, the first thing I see being him. He watches me with a patient look as he nods.

“You’re okay. We’re safe. If this thing was gonna kill someone, it would have killed the hundreds of others that have ridden it today.”

The ride stops with an abrupt jerk, forcing our seat to rock. I do everything in my power to hold in the scream that’s begging to be set free. Looking around I see that they stopped us at the top. Fabulous.

“Or everything was loosening up from the hundreds of others, just in time for us to fall to our deaths,” I grimace.

“What’s the worst that could come of that?” Asher asks.

I look at him like he’s crazy.

“Uhm, dying?”

He nods. “But after that. Say you fell from here,” he says looking over the edge. “You’d no doubt have a quick and painless death. So, what is the worst that can happen? You get that free fall sensation for maybe five seconds and then nothing. Lights out.”

“Is this supposed to be making me feel better?” I scoff.

“It helps me,” he shrugs, as he looks away from me and out to the sunsetting sky before us. “I like to think that when I die, I’ll get to see my mom again. She was perfect, and there’s no doubt she is in heaven. I’ll definitely be on the fast track for the other side,” he says, pointing to the ground. “But, maybe I’ll get a few moments with her before I’m damned for all eternity.”

Blinking slowly, I tilt my head to the side.

“I didn’t know you were religious.”

He shakes his head, like he’s shaking himself out of a memory.

“I’m not. Not really. We’re all raised Puritan by faith, obviously, but times have changed. We aren’t forcibly bound by all of the things that our ancestors were. At least mostly.”

“Wow, you guys take family lineage really seriously around here.”

Asher faces me. “Everyone in Salem does, and beyond. It’s everything to the Brethren.”

I open my mouth to ask a question but he shakes his head, intercepting me before continuing.

“The point I’m trying to make is, what’s the worst thing about dying? Not living on earth anymore? You’d be reunited with your mom too, and you will definitely be going to heaven, so you’ll get to actually spend forever with her.”

The thought is nice in theory. I’ve craved to meet her, truly know her, my whole life. The older I get, the hazier the few memories I have of her become. I’d love to replace the muddled remnants of the past with some that are fresh and new, but not at the risk of dying. Not yet.

“As soon as you stop fearing death, no fear will ever have the ability to take hold of you,” Asher says, his eyes focused on the setting sun before he turns to me.

“Is that what you’ve done? You don’t fear anything?” I ask.

I’m suddenly acutely aware of his thigh pressed against mine, his arm in his lap that is practically on my leg. His shoulders are several inches taller than my own, but they are touching every inch of my arm as he looks down at me.

His eyes flick from my left eye, to the right and down to my mouth before back up again. He does this two or three times, his chest rising and falling steadily as he does.

I’m not sure who moves first, I don’t think it matters either. With our eyes on each other, we both lean in slowly, cautiously, giving the other plenty of time to stop. Neither of us seem interested in that, though. Our lips are less than two inches fromeach other, my heart hammering inside of my chest as I abandon all reason for this moment, allowing myself to just be.

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