Our Life: Beginnings And Always Oneshots

Amusement Park

Mark leaned his head out the window, laughing as the wind whipped through his collar-length hair dramatically. He liked being the passenger for car rides, but this one was even more special than normal: Cliff was taking Cove and him to an amusement park. Sunset Bird was a beach town: their summers were often filled with warm treks to the shore, ocean escapades, and the occasional picnic on the rolling hill behind Mark's house, affectionately deemed "Firefly Hill" after the creatures that often met them there. Still, though vacations in their sleepy hometown were idyllic, a little excitement was always welcome. Cove had been to amusement parks when he was little, but, though Mark was eleven now, this was his first experience with one.

A song that Mark recognized wafted through the car, and he beamed. "Mr. Holden!! Turn it up!" he squealed before suddenly getting shy. "Please."

Cliff only laughed fondly. "Sure, kiddo." He raised the volume and started singing to it dramatically, making Mark burst into a fit of giggles.

"Daaaaad," Cove groaned in exasperation, looking as though he wanted to wither from second-hand embarrassment. Cliff merely cast him a cheeky grin through the rear-view mirror. Mark gave Cove a soft shove from the other side of the car, as if to tell him to lighten up, and then started singing loudly. It was somewhat off-key, which made Cove simultaneously smile and wince, but the raw enthusiasm behind it was what counted. Only a few short songs later, the car pulled into a parking spot, to the utter delight of the preteens in the back.

They waited patiently in the line; Mark, unable to draw or write without a table, took out his pack of cards and idly practiced a handful of magic tricks; since he'd seen that magic show on the shopping street when he was eight, he'd been intrigued, and every few months that interest resurfaced. Cove played along patiently, even when Mark would bungle something, and that was part of what made it fun for the both of them. Cliff got involved as well, acting extremely awestruck when Mark would successfully pull off a trick, riling the short boy up even further. At this point, he was bursting with exhilaration, and they hadn't even made it inside the park yet.

Once they did? Oh, it was madness. Complete and utter madness as Mark's eyes lit up. Cove was immensely pleased as well, just by the mere fact that he was the one to make this happen: he'd convinced both his dad and Mark's moms to permit this trip, and it was so obviously worth the effort. His best friend's excitement was hilarious. And also... he just wanted him to be happy. "C'mon. I'm gonna show you the best rides." He offered his hand, proud to be the one taking the lead this time. Mark happily took it, and the two rushed off toward the rollercoasters, Cliff in tow.

After a shaky confirmation that Mark was tall enough to ride and yet another line, the boys were at the front. Mark had tried to convince Cliff to come as well, but he rightly said that someone needed to be there to hold everything (including both boys' glasses). They cheerfully squished into the car of the coaster, pulling the safety devices over themselves and giving one another a supportive hand squeeze.

Up, up, up the cars went, and suddenly, things were feeling a little less fun. Mark's heart was starting to pound, and he knew that was normal, but the creeping feeling of dread that swirled through him as they approached the peak was probably not. He held his breath and felt his stomach muscles tense up instinctively. Then a brief rush of air, the sound of Cove's ecstatic yell, and then blackness consumed his vision.

"Mark?! Markie?!" he suddenly heard, and the brief callback to his childhood nickname was enough to rouse him. Though it was miraculous he could hear it over all the screams surrounding him. And he himself instantly took to screaming as he woke up mid-ride, soaring at what felt like mach-speed. He clutched onto the safety bars like his very life depended on it, knuckles turning milk-white and nails digging into the leather. He clamped his eyes shut again, shrieking, as reality washed over him: he'd passed out! He'd fainted on this monstrous ride! Screams made way to desperate little noises as his voice caught in his throat. He felt Cove's familiar hand latch onto his shoulder. "It's almost over! It's almost done, Markie, hang in there!" he pleaded.

He tried to communicate some blend of "Help," and "Sorry," winding up with "S-Selphorry." And then everything compressed as the ride slowed to a halt. Mark went half-limp in relief and exhaustion before getting out of the ride, leaning on Cove because his legs felt too weak on their own. "Sorry. Sorry. I'm sorry," he repeated over and over, tears beginning to stream down his face.

"Oh, nonono, Mark, please don't cry!" Cove panicked. "And please don't apologize! I was the one who--"

"Nnmn," Mark objected. "You didn't do anything. You were just trying to sh-show me something fun and special..."

"Cove?! Mark?!" Cliff's voice rang out as he ran to his son and his son's best friend in the universe. Despite Cove's misgivings with his father, he knew that he was a generally more comforting person than he was, so he nudged Mark ever so faintly on the back toward Cliff. The smaller boy collapsed into the adult's embrace, heaving and staining his shirt with tears. He tried to speak, but the words were slightly gibberish. "It's okay, it's okay. You don't need to explain anything. The cameras they use for novelty photos meant I got the gist. What do you need?"

"I'm sorry!" he whimpered.

"Markie, you don't need to be sorry for anything..."

"But I do! You drove all this way out here just to make me happy and..." his voice shuddered as he suppressed a fresh sob, "I ruined it by being so scared! I'm messing up all the fun and wasting your money! And Cove really wanted to show me the cool rides and I can't do it!"

"Oh, Markie... you didn't mess anything up. I promise. We can have a lot of fun here even without the intense rides," Cliff reassured him, rubbing his head soothingly.

"Y-Yeah! There are gentler rides, and games, and tons of good food, and sometimes little shows! I'll make sure you have fun! Remember, you pick me and I pick you! I'm sorry for mucking it up..." Cove said shamefully.

"Hey, hey. You didn't mess anything up either, son. Mark didn't know that he'd be afraid, and neither did you. This isn't anybody's fault."

"O-Okay. But I still promise." Mark looked at him intently. Cove's face was still blurry, but he saw the determination in his best friend's expression, so familiarly stubborn and yet somehow caring. Mark's face started to warm, and he wondered whether this heart flutter was out of nerves or something different entirely.

"Can we not tell my moms about this? We can say that I saw the roller coasters and instantly knew I didn't want to get on any," Mark asked shyly to his favorite neighbors, cheeks burning pink.

"Of course. We'll keep your secret," Cliff winked. Mark was suddenly very aware of the other secret he shared with Mr. Holden-- that he'd tried to pay Mark to be Cove's friend that very first summer-- but he pushed it out of his mind. He didn't want to think about any other frightening topic for the day. At least he knew his moms wouldn't worry and that Elizabeth wouldn't tease him. Even if she meant well, he wasn't in the mood for that.

"I swear I won't tell," Cove nodded. "Now, c'mon! I wanna play that game where you fill up the balloons by shooting a water gun."

Throughout the rest of the day-- when he and Cove won each other prizes, when they shared a churro, when they got on the carousel and reached out to see if they could touch each other's hand from that distance, when they watched fireworks together like the barbeque that first summer-- Mark kept checking in on himself, wondering when that hot, flustered feeling would subside. But it didn't. And he understood what that meant. And it was novel, and cozy, and a little bit scary. But the good kind of scary this time. Cove had been trying so hard to make the day wonderful for him, despite that initial snag in the plans. He was certain when, on the drive back, Cove set his sleepy head on his shoulder.

Mark Romwell liked the boy who lived across the street.