Page 12 of Fairground

He shakes his head, his grin never faltering. “Ask anyone in this town. They’d agree. I'm the funniest guy they know.”

Despite my best efforts, a smile tugs at my lips, and I don’t bother fighting it.

“Good night, Cash.”

It feels good, better than I’ve felt in weeks. Tonight was... nice. As I walk home, the crisp night air brushing against my cheeks, I can’t help but think that maybe these next nine months won’t be as terrible as I thought.

Chapter 6: Rae

Okay, scratch what I said earlier.

These next nine months of waking up at dawn to take my nephews to school are going to be brutal.

“Felix! Get your ass—uh,booty—down here now! We’re going to be late for school!”

My twelve-year-old nephew stomps down the stairs, his sneakers thudding on each step dramatically. He looks at me with that signature tween mix of annoyance and exasperation, then drops into a chair at the table with a huff. He glares at the oatmeal I made—exactly how my sister said he likes it with banana slices and cinnamon—before pushing it away with a loud sigh.

“I just want a wholebanana today.”

What happened to the sweet, chubby toddler I used to adore? When Felix was born, I was sixteen and completely smitten with him. Obsessed, even. Which says a lot for someone who still debates whether kids are even on her life’s to-do list. Most days I feel like my own childhood was too fucked up to ever want to be a mom myself.

“Here’s your banana,” I say, tossing one from the counter toward him because I don't have the energy to fight with him over food. He catches it midair, which is more impressive than his mood deserves. “Eat it in the car, though. We’re running late, and your mom will kill me if I screw up this simple drop-off.”

He mutters something under his breath, likely a jab at my competency with acting as the stand-in parent, but I let it slide because I'm sure I deserve it. Instead, I grab his little brother Daniel’s backpack along with his and sling both over my shoulder.

“Let’s move it, boys!” I yell.

Out at the SUV, I toss the bags into the backseat as Felix and Daniel buckle up. Daniel, ever the quiet and reserved ten-year-old, gives me a polite smile while Felix maintains his disgruntled silence.

“It’s a great day to be alive!” I declare cheerfully, flashing them both a grin in the rearview mirror as I back out of the driveway.

“What’s up with her?” Felix stage-whispers to Daniel.

Daniel shrugs, unbothered.

“I’m trying to be more positive and radiant. Like your mother,” I reply, keeping my tone sunny. “Your mom asked me to.”

“Well, can you not?” Felix groans.

Rolling my eyes, I hit the radio button and crank up the only station I can get in this tiny town—country music, of course. The boys endure the voice of some woman singing loudly about the man who left her in silence as I weave through minimal, small town morning traffic, heading toward their elementary and middle schools.

Before I’ve even fully stopped in the drop-off line, the car doors fly open, and they both barrel out like I’m some prison warden who’s finally set them free.

“Okay, bye! Love you guys!” I shout after them, my voice bouncing off the pavement.

Neither of them looks back and I can't blame them. I'd do the same thing. I may not be a morning person, but these two make me look like the poster child for seizing the day.

As I glance at the clock on my dash, the numbers “7:03” blink back at me. The thought of driving straight back to my sister’s house and crawling back into bed is tempting. But last night, I swore I’d change. No more sleeping in until ten, lazily heading to the gym, grabbing overpriced coffee, and halfheartedly scrolling through non-existent job postings in this tiny town.

Today, I’mseizing the day.

Which is how, ten minutes later, I find myself at the gym a short walk from my sister’s house, hip thrusting a barbell stacked with two large plates on each side. Sweat beads down my forehead as I finish my last set, and then grab my towel to wipe it away.

This feels good.Reallygood. Who knew so many people were awake and functional this early in the morning? And not just awake—but working out. Sweating. Laughing. With smiles on their faces.

I wipe down the bench I’ve been using and head to the treadmill, ready to cool down with an uphill walk, when a familiar, overly cheery face appears next to me.

“Hi, Rae!” Lydia chirps, hopping onto the treadmill beside mine. Her blonde hair is pulled up into a high ponytail and she’s wearing some sort of short, pink, workout skort. She sets herpace to a light jog, already looking like she hasn’t broken a sweat in her life. “I didn’t know you worked out here!”

---