Page 13 of Up In Flames
“William Dorsey, what are you doing?” the lady applying my face paint said.
I turned my head and saw “William” sitting at another station as someone else started to apply face paint for him.
“I can’t let Oren have all the fun. Now turn around so she can finish. No peeking until we’re done.”
The paint wasn’t the most pleasant thing I’d ever put on my skin. It made my face feel dry and tight wherever she applied it, but it was washable and for a good cause. Even though I’d done it willingly, I still felt a little silly when she held up the mirror. The left half of my face was covered in orange and black Monarch butterfly wings. Looking in the mirror at the finished result made some of the silly feelings go away. As far as face paint went, she’d done a wonderful job. Good enough that I didn’t feel entirely ridiculous.
I pulled some more money out and dropped it in the donation box. “Are you beautiful yet, Dorsey?”
Will stood and turned around. He’d gone for the tiger look. Orange and black stripes covered his face. He even had whiskers and a pink kitty nose to complete the look.
“How do I look?” he asked, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.
Like someone who knew how to have fun. Like someone I needed. “Like a giant kitty,” I said instead.
CHAPTER 6
Will
Oren was easy to be with. He still got quiet sometimes, but I let him have his moments without drawing attention to them. I’d never been through anything close to the hell he’d been through, but it wasn’t hard to reason that it was still fucking with his head. Every so often, Oren would crack a joke, or deliver a snarky comment, and I was left with the impression I was seeing the authentic Oren. The one not weighed down by grief and guilt.
“All you guys are missing is a Ferris Wheel.” Oren walked with his hands tucked in his pockets. Our painted faces had garnered some attention from the other guys, and I noticed a few of them head off in the direction of the face painting tent.
“Rides are a hazard.”
“Spoken like a guy who’s probably had to rescue people from a Ferris Wheel.”
“Not yet, thankfully. But I’ve been on the internet. I’ve seen how wrong carnival rides can go.”
“Ferris Wheels only come off their frame and roll through the city in the movies. They’re perfectly safe.” Oren paused. “Probably.”
“Probably is very reassuring, thank you. We might not have carnival rides, but we have a photo booth.”
Oren paused again for a half second, then shrugged. “Why not? Lead the way, Dorsey.”
It was stupid for me to like the sound of my name in his mouth. Everyone called me Dorsey. There was nothing special about it. But I liked hearing my name in his voice. It meant that we were friends, that maybe I’d get to keep him around for a while. My regular brain cautioned me to at least try to not crush on him so hard. I ignored that bit of advice, of course, in favor of throwing my whole body right into full-blown Oren Obsession.
“It’s back this way.” We started toward the booth, and I caught sight of one of the guys he worked with. “Will you get in trouble for not hanging with your coworkers?”
“Nah. Attendance wasn’t mandatory or anything. Merely encouraged.”
When we reached the photo booth, we had to wait for a group of teenagers. They were taking turns ducking in and out of the booth in various combinations of people. More than a couple of them came out red-faced and smug. Oren caught my gaze, and we shared a knowing smile.
Oh, to be a young, horny teenager again. Except I was never out, so I’d never have wanted to duck into a photo booth with a group of my peers. I didn’t want to kiss the girls, and I couldn’t kiss the boys. My heart clenched at all the opportunities I’d lost out on growing up queer and closeted.
Two teenaged boys ducked into the booth together. Well, one boy dragged another boy inside the booth, much to the amusement of their friends, who all cheered and whistled and made all kinds of comments outside the booth. It healed something inside me to watch these two boys come out, obviously having kissed in the booth judging by the redness of the taller one’s face, and the way the shorter guy clung to hishand, grinning from ear to ear. I’d never had that as a teenager, but at least these kids got to have it.
The group of them moved on, and the booth was now available for Oren and me.
Oren approached the curtain, then looked back at me. “Are we sure it’s sanitary? I can practically smell the lingering hormones.”
“There’s hand sanitizer around here somewhere, I’m sure.”
“Good enough.” Oren slipped inside the booth.
Sucking in a deep breath, I followed. I squished in next to him and grimaced.
“I didn’t realize how small these things were on the inside.”
