Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 85817 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85817 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
“Fried pickle?” I said, lips pursed but considering it. “Hmm, maybe I might have that, too.”
“Oh, honey, you’ll forever be changed if you’ve never had a fried pickle from the fair.”
I laughed, feeling a sense of connection between us four. There were moments when my instincts would flare up and I’d feel myself wanting to raise the walls again, but I fought that urge, instead staying as open as I could, allowing myself to enjoy the connection. It felt like we’d all been friends for years now, even though I had just met Peter hours ago and had never hung out with Angel outside of our breakroom. I had almost forgotten what that word even entailed: “friend.” I’d forgotten about the endless laughs and the easy conversations. It had been easy for me to lose myself in the all-consuming darkness that had come from the deaths of the people I loved the most. It was a darkness that seemed impenetrable. Hell, it was impenetrable for some time.
But then Sam came along, his smile as bright as a star, lighting up the shadows and pushing them all away, throwing everything into stark light.
I couldn’t help but reach for his hand. He didn’t even miss a beat, continuing his story about the time he was stranded at Disney World with his mom and dad. Our fingers locked together perfectly, and from the touch came a warmth that spread through me, pulling at my lips and giving me a grin I didn’t even think about wearing. It just happened.
We walked past the sweet-smelling cotton candy booth, its top shaped like a fluffy pink cloud of cotton candy. Angel asked to stop for some. He came back to the group with two buckets of mountainous cotton candy. Sam and I thanked him as we munched on the sweet puffs, continuing our stroll through the fair, stopping at different booths to play games or look at interesting art or catch a glimpse of a fun-looking show. The night was young, and the fair did not look like it had any plans to sleep.
We reached the petting zoo tent, most of our cotton candy now gone. Sam was the one to lead us toward the entrance, the scent of goats replacing the candy scent as we tossed out our buckets and replaced them for handfuls of petting zoo pellets. I didn’t really love petting zoos, but Sam seemed too excited for me to say anything otherwise. He went over to the cutest-looking pot-bellied pig and crouched down, giving the pig some belly scratches as it flipped over like a happy dog.
“This one looks like it loves you,” I said, crouching next to Sam so I could get some belly scratches in. A jealous-looking goat hopped over with its big yellow eyes locked on the pellets in my hand.
“And that one looks like it wants to mug you.” Sam pointed at the goat with his chin, laughing as we stood up.
I looked around, scanning the petting zoo, feeling more than happy in the moment. Across the way, there was a pen holding two sheep that looked as fluffy as the cotton candy we had just eaten. I started toward them, wanting to feel how soft they were, when I stopped cold in my tracks.
Past the sheep pen, by a pretzel stand on the other side of the path, I thought I saw a face I recognized. One that had been set in my memory since seeing Anya’s security tape.
Nick. It looked just like him. The man had long, greasy hair and the same skinny build, but he was wearing a cap that concealed most of his face. The passing crowd grew thick, and before I could verify anything, the man had disappeared.
I’m getting paranoid. That’s all.
Sam came up behind me. “Look at those two little walking clouds. Let’s go pet them.” He grabbed my hand and started me toward the sheep.
Angel was standing by the wooden fence. He had been bending over and petting one of the sheep but was now looking out to the thickening crowd, all walking toward a big tent where an aerial show was supposed to start. Peter was next to him, his fingers lost underneath the wool as he cooed over how soft the sheep felt.
“That’s weird…” Angel said, loudly enough for me to hear even though he seemed to be talking more to himself.
“What’s up?”
“Nothing. Just weird how I was talking about that crazy date I had, and now I think I just saw the guy. But there’s no way.”
Sam and I both looked to each other. “What was your date’s name?” I asked.
“It was Nick. Nick Ricks… why? Why do you two look like that? Do you know him?”
Sam looked like he wanted to vomit. It was exactly how I felt.