My Reason to Live

Chapter 8

"You really suck at this." I laugh, putting cotton candy in my mouth—or candy floss, as they call it here.

Jade bought it for me when we passed the last food booth. I needed sugar. The choice of cotton candy was blue or purple or both. I chose both. I've already eaten all the blue. I'm onto the purple now, which is pretty close to my hair color.

I lick the cotton candy off my sticky fingers.

Jade gives me a dirty look. "If you think you can do any better, then, by all means, try." She holds out a ball to me.

She's playing a game called Knock 'Em Down, which is basically nine cans stacked up into a pyramid—four at the bottom, three in the middle, and two on the top. You have to knock the cans down by hitting them with a ball, and if you knock off the two top rows, you win a medium prize. Knock all the cans down, and you get a big prize.

Sounds simple, huh? Apparently, it's not.

I've sat this game out, so I can eat my cotton candy.

But we played darts and Bull's Eye, which is basically archery and you had to hit the bull's-eye to win. And we played a shooting game where you have a pellet rifle, and you have to hit a playing card with a pellet. I was especially bad at that.

But so far, we haven't won a thing, and I really want a stuffed animal. Something to keep. A keepsake of this day with her.

But then what's the point? It's not like I'll get to keep it for long.

Even still, I want one.

Tucking my sad thoughts away, I put my bag of cotton candy under my arm and hold my hands up. "My hands are sticky from the cotton candy."

"Excuses, excuses."

I stick my tongue out at her.

"Your tongue is blue from the candy floss." Jade chuckles.

I lean in close to her and whisper into her ear, "Well, if you're a good girl and win me a prize, I'll lick your dick with my blue tongue."

I lean back a little, staring into her eyes, which are currently dark and lusty.

"Deal," she growls, sending shivers hurtling through me.

I move back to my standing spot and watch her get back to the game.

She picks up a ball and throws it. It hits the edge of a can, but it doesn't go down.

Guess she doesn't want a blow job after all.

"I'm sure these cans are fucking glued down," she says in a low growly voice, making me laugh.

"I don't think they are. I'm pretty sure that's illegal. You just have a weak arm, Thirlwall, and your aim sucks."

She flips me the bird. I laugh.

I love winding her up. Seeing her flustered and off her game like this...it's fun.

She exhales through her nose, which makes her sound like an angry bull. That makes me laugh harder.

Ignoring me, she pivots and sets up to throw her last ball.

She's managed to knock the top two off, so she only has seven more cans to go.

Seven cans and one ball. I don't see it happening, but if she manages to knock the next three off, she'll win a prize—meaning, I win a prize.

Thing is, she only has one ball left, and her aim is appalling.

Sheer concentration is on her face.