Page 47 of The Bro Date
“Shaaane!” he whines again. “I don’t want you to get in trouble because of me. Please don’t.”
“Toby, chill out. I’m not in trouble. That guy is a complete asshole, and I won’t let him disrespect us.Ever.”
“You’re right. He’s horrible.Ugh,” Toby says with a shiver. “Let’s just forget about it and go find Tate and Daija.” He hugs the sloth to his chest for comfort, burying his face into the soft fur and closing his eyes for a second, likely trying to settle his anxiety over what just happened.
I wish I could wrap my arms around him and hold him tight.
“Funnel cakes are this way.” I hitch a thumb to the left, and we walk side by side without a word spoken.
Nothing but the overpowering smell of fried food fills the air while the afternoon sun blazes down on us, making me break out in a sweat. The ocean breeze is the only thing stopping it from being unbearable. There’s a mix of people here today. Some families, some couples, and a lot of students from both CBU and the local high school. Our slow stroll across the fairgrounds helps me digest the massive amount of greasy food we just ate for lunch.
“Wanna go for a ride?” Toby asks, nodding toward the temporary death trap that’s set up right next to the funnel cake stand.
I don’t trust carnival rides, and especially not a fucking roller coaster.
“Coaster time, bitches!” Jake suddenly shouts out of nowhere, rushing up behind us and jumping on my back like he’s getting a fucking piggyback ride.
“Get off me.” I shrug him off and punch him in the arm.
“Ouch!” He chuckles, rubbing the spot. “Turn that frown upside down, and get in line with us,” Jake teases. “Me and Spence call dibs on the front row.”
“It’ll be fun. Come on, Shane,” Toby encourages, smiling up at me.
“Fine,” I grunt, not too thrilled about it, but unwilling to spoil the fun.
“Yo, Tate! Daija!” Spencer hollers at our friends sitting at a nearby picnic table and motions them over to us with both hands.
“If I barf up my funnel cake, one of you boys is buying me a new one,” Tate says, reluctantly getting in line with the rest of us.
“Gross,” Toby chuckles, climbing up and perching on the metal railing while I lean against it. His knees poke through the giant holes in his jeans, and his leg hairs shine in the sunlight, catching my eye. I glance away quickly before I’m caught staring.
“Looks like just a few more rides, and then it’ll be our turn,” Spencer informs us, standing on his tippy toes to look over everyone’s heads. “Let people skip if you have to, so we can all be on the same coaster.”
We all nod, and soon enough, it’s our turn to climb aboard, with Spencer and Jake in the front, followed by Tate and Daija, and then Toby and me in the back. There are a couple morecarts behind us, but it’s a much smaller roller coaster than at an amusement park.
“Ready?” Toby asks with a big smile.
I grunt, tugging on his lap belt one more time because I don’t trust the fucking teenagers running this thing.It’s sketchy as hell.Facing forward, I rest my head back against the seat and close my eyes as we roll out of the covered loading area. We swing around the corner and immediately start our ascent for the big drop, which is the main feature.
“Woohoo!Yeah, baby! You can see the ocean up here, look!” Jake shouts, his arm sticking out of the ride and pointing at the horizon.
“Whoa,” Toby murmurs in awe, and I barely hear him over thethunk thunk thunkof the chain on the tracks.
“Okay, everyone! Arms up!” Jake yells as we crest the peak, and all my friends, including Toby, put their arms straight up like they have all the faith in the world that this thing was set up correctly in the middle of a parking lot.
“Toby!” I growl, but it’s too late, and we’re racing down the steep drop, my stomach floating up my throat like we’re in zero gravity. Toby pops off his seat an inch, and in a lightning-fast move, I reach over, grabbing onto his thigh and keeping him pressed down. The wind whooshes in my ears, helping to drown out everyone’s screams.
How can anyone call this fun?
After a few more sharp turns, we pull back into the loading area, coming to an abrupt stop and nearly causing me whiplash.
“Oh my God.I almost flew outta my seat!” Toby shouts, laughing hysterically.
“I know. Happens when you ride a shitty carnival coaster and don’t hold on,” I deadpan.
“Oh, boo hoo, Mr. Grumpy Pants,” Tate teases, unbuckling his seatbelt and climbing out of the cart once the useless metalbar lifts. “Let’s go look at the photo. Twenty bucks says Shane isn’t smiling. Any takers?”
The rest of us climb out of the carts in silence, and I’m not even offended. I probably wasn’t smiling.
