Page 100 of Sweet Caroline
He doesn’t fight it, and the rigid lines of his body slowly soften against my tentative embrace.
I’m not sure how long we stand there in silence, just crying and holding each other.
“You’re wheezing,” Miles eventually says.
Instinctively, I clear my throat. “A bit, I guess.”
“We’re getting you checked out. Come on.” He grips tight to my hand as he leads me back to the subdued festival grounds and toward a pair of ambulances parked a safe distance from the fire.
I don’t fight him on it; God knows what kind of dodgy chemicals were in those plastic Halloween decorations, after all.
From here, the fire looks like it’s under control, but a small crew of firefighters are still working to put out any hot spots.
“Miles!” a voice booms from nearby. “Hey!”
Sitting in the back of the ambulance is a firefighter with his gear off and a blood pressure cuff around one arm. He’s big, built like Miles, and his shirt is soaked with sweat.
“Shit, Gus, you hurt or something?” Miles asks.
“Nah, just standard procedure. Gotta cool off and get cleared to go back in.” He pauses, scrutinizing his friend. “You good, buddy? Look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Not now, man.”
“Okay.” Gus watches Miles with concern for a moment, then turns to me. “You must be Caroline?”
“Mm-hmm.”
The EMT hands Gus a bottle of water before returning to check his vitals.
“And you’re Gus?” This isn’t exactly how I imagined meeting Miles’ best friend. “The one who famously sings to annoy Miles?” I flick my gaze to Miles, but he barely cracks a smile.
Gus chuckles. “My reputation precedes me.”
“Is… Is everyone…?” I half ask the question, throwing a pointed glance at the smoldering haunted house.
“Everyone got out safely.”
“Oh, thank God.” I exhale and fold my arms over my chest, hugging myself in the chilly night air. “Do you know how it started? I didn’t see anything when I was in there, and it…” I make a vague gesture, unable to find the words.
“You wereinside?”
I nod.
Realization transforms Gus’ features and his eyes jump to Miles, something unspoken passing between them.
The EMT pipes up. “I heard it was some kid messing with fireworks. Thought it’d be funny to scare his friend and?—”
“Wait. What kid?” Concern tinges Miles’ raspy voice. “I saw a kid waiting to go in and fucking around with a lighter. He was blond, I think? Kinda stocky. Skeleton T-shirt?”
“Uh, I didn’t see him but, apparently, the fool lit the thing, then tried to chuck it out the window. But he missed and it got caught in the curtains.”
“Shit,” Miles says quietly, almost to himself.
“The curtains…” I say, remembering how they’d gone up in flames almost instantly. “It happened so fast.”
“Yeah. You good?” Gus asks. “Any trouble breathing? They’ll check you out over there.” He tilts his head toward the second ambulance.
“I dunno, I?—”
