yours.

[28] Jasper

"Mm..." I pause to think. "What about... Monsieur--"

"No, no, please, no," Miles sighs, taking my giant brown teddy from me. "That's how Lesley names all her stuffed animals. "'Mister Something' or 'Mrs. Whatever.'"

"Lesley has good taste."

He sets the bear in his lap and wraps his arms around it. "Well, she also likes Dippin' Dots, so..."

I shudder, remembering the feeling of the tiny, crisp balls of ice cream on my tongue. "No, never mind." I shift closer to Miles on the bench until our knees are touching. I don't really understand what's been going on between us tonight, but I do know I want to take advantage of it. We've been close, like really close -- both physically and emotionally -- and this little bubble of bliss we've created is everything I've wanted out of our relationship. Add in the bright lights and gentle evening breeze, and I might even say the experience has been a little... magical.

Of course, I know what trouble is waiting for me at home, after how I left things with my father. But as for right now, I'm grateful for Miles' presence -- he's the greatest distraction I can ask for. I know it sounds corny, but... it's true.

Miles didn't win me the bear until his third try at the darts game, when the dart finally punctured a balloon instead of just bouncing off. And when he handed me the teddy bear, it felt like everything was just a step away from perfect. I just don't know yet what that "perfect" really is.

"How about Jasper Jr.?" I smirk up at Miles. "Has a nice ring to it."

"Um, I think you should name it after me, considering I won it for you."

"It doesn't work that way."

"Of course it doesn't."

We watch each other, like that time on my front stoop all that time ago, when we first teased the idea of a kiss. And now, it feels like... more than teasing. My gaze drifts down to Miles' lips, which part slightly.

"Hey," he mutters, red spots coloring his cheeks. At least I'm not alone in this... feeling.

"Hi," I say back, my voice very soft. We stay locked like that for a while: my heartbeat deafening in my ears, Miles' green eyes softening until I'm positive what's about to happen... But then he breaks eye contact suddenly, rising to his feet and tucking my unnamed bear under his arm.

"We should keep going. It's almost eight." He offers a hand to me, and slowly, confusedly, I take it, my heart lurching as my cool palm meets his warm one. I expect him to release my hand once I stand, but to my surprise, he only links our fingers tighter, pulling me closer to him. I look up at him, my heart flying all the way to my throat, and he stares ahead, his brows inching closer together. "Is this..." His voice breaks. "Is this okay?"

It takes me a moment to respond. "Yes," I whisper finally.

He strokes a thumb slowly -- dare I say, lovingly -- across the back of my hand, and I train my gaze on a distant water fountain to keep myself from smiling. I may not have gotten a kiss, but this is nice, too.

And as we continue around the carnival, our clasped hands swinging between us, the realization truly strikes me. The possibility of a kiss -- with Miles, who I've spent this whole summer trying to lose feelings for -- is no longer just a dream, something I have to keep to myself within the reinforced gates of my imagination. It's real, it's very real, and his hand in mine is enough to prove it.

We carry on in a silence that's comfortable for once, and I wait for another game to catch Miles' attention. It's honestly a bit overwhelming for me, seeing as I've never seen or played most of these before, but it's nice to have Miles as my guide. Even if he made me try that... cone cake, or whatever he called it.

No one even glances at us as we make our way past vendors and tents, and it makes me glad. I don't know how I'd react if people took notice of our... impromptu hand-holding. 

"Let's try this one." I don't resist as Miles directs me to a simple ring-toss station, this one equipped with rows and rows of glass bottles. The carny working the station goes through the motions of telling us the rules of the game, we only get three tries... Then Miles entrusts me with two rings, and he takes the other.

I try to hand him one. "You'll do better, anyway," I try to tell him, but he refuses it.

"I've already won one game tonight," he boasts, grinning at me. "It's your turn."

But each of my rings bounces off the rim of a bottle near the front. I curse. "That's not fair."

"It's okay," he reassures me. But his ring doesn't make it, either. We stare out at the array of bottles.

"Better luck next time," the carny says, bored, and turns her attention to the crowded path behind us. 

"Well, no." Miles stares down the worker. "We can't just... lose."

She shrugs. "Only three tries. Company policy."

Miles swallows, weighing his options, before handing my teddy bear back to me. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a few folded bills.

"Miles, no." I make a move to stop him.

He shakes me off. "See, I really want to get one of those purple lizards for my friend here--" I can't ignore the way he says "friend," like it's a petty lie. "--and I'm not going to stop until I do. So, you can accept my money and give me another try, or you can go home a dollar poorer than you could have."

It's a weak argument, but I give him credit for trying.

The worker rolls her eyes. "Kid, I barely get minimum wage for this. You'd have to give me more than one dollar."

"Five, then."

"Five for one try?"

"Well, I--"

"Make it ten, and you've got a deal."

He forks over a ten-dollar bill in exchange for one blue ring. He misses. "Another," he demands, and I lay an embarrassed hand on his arm.

"Miles, you don't have to--"

His green eyes find mine. "Yes, I do." Another ten dollars, another miss. He continues like this, losing money and missing, until I finally decide he's gambled enough away and take his hand. "Jasper, just trust me--"

"I'm not letting you squander your savings away on some game," I say firmly, and he glances away, defeated. I look over at the carny, who's counting her earnings. "Can't I just have the lizard?"

She shakes her head, falsely remorseful. "Sorry, kid. No can do. My boss wouldn't be very happy with me--"

"Miles just gave you fifty dollars! That lizard is barely worth ten."

She grabs it from its fixed place on the chain wall behind her and looks it over. "Mm, I'd say fifteen."

"Okay, then we're thirty-five over--"

"Fifteen more," her eyes gleam with greed.

Miles starts to reach into his pocket, and I step closer to him. "Miles, don't," I warn.

His gaze turns pleading. "I have to. I want to get you another stuffed animal since I... I forgot to get you one at the Whack-a-Mole."

"Forget about the stupid moles! Your money is more important."

But he doesn't listen to me. Instead, he hands over a ten and a five. The carny hands him the purple lizard. "There you go, son."

Miles offers the plush to me, his smile apologetic, and I glare up at him. "I didn't need two."

"Please take it," he urges me, pushing it into my hands. "I spent sixty-five dollars on this," he adds in a hiss.

Grudgingly, I take it, passing it into my left hand to take Miles' hand with my right. "You're the worst," I grumble, then drag us back into the crowd.