Tatum's P.O.V.
Why did I have to be here? A fucking theme park. I want to puke. But once again, I had to chaperone my 13 year old brother and another one of his endless stream of pathetic "girlfriends", who he claims to be in love with. Please, he doesn't even know what love is at his age.
"Can you just make up your mind, Noah?" I snapped.
"Fine, Ferris Wheel it is then." He stated plainly.
Finally. A ride that I didn't mind going on for once. A ride where I could be in a booth all by myself. A ride where some 40 year old man doesn't throw up on me. When I reached the front of the line, I handed the man my ticket and he directed me to an empty booth. Booth 34. I put in my earphones and opened Spotify and played my favourite playlist, although my phone was on 7%. Great. I was trying to avoid any awkward encounters with anyone that I might be sharing a booth with.
As the line grew shorter, I began to get more and more satisfied that I had the booth all to myself, until I saw the ticket man pointing a boy with bright red hair towards my booth. I noticed 3 other boys pushing and laughing at him. He looked a bit nervous.
I put the volume of music up to avoid talking to this boy at all costs. I think he could hear the music spilling out of my earphones because he didn't bother to speak to me. I don't blame him. He sat down as the booth doors closed.
We had only been turning for about 5 minutes, when the Ferris Wheel came to a sudden halt. This is just fucking great. My music didn't even last long, my phone died after the first rotation of the wheel, but I didn't dare take my earphones out. But, now that we had stopped I slowly took them out, my eyes fixed outside the window. We were fucking high. We weren't at the top but I was shitting bricks. I suddenly heard the boy's breathing pick up. I think he was having a panic attack. What do I do? I mean we haven't even looked each other in the eye whilst we've been in here. I look over at him and he is shaking so badly. Should I say something? I am busy debating what I should do when his breathing gets really unstable. He is starting to hyperventilate and is banging with his fist on the windows.
I move closer to him and place my hand on his shoulder.
"Uhm, are you okay?" I ask quietly.
"I-uh-I'm...terrified..of....-heights." He says inbetween breaths, gasping for air.
"It's okay, I'm sure we won't be up here for long, just take deep breaths."
He takes my hand in his and places his other hand on top. He doesn't say anything, he just stares straight ahead of him. I don't say anything either. His breathing has calmed down and he seems okay, I think this is what he needs right now. Stranger or not.
"Attention all passengers, we are unfortunately facing some technical difficulties at the moment and will be delayed for about an hour. We apologize for any inconviences this may have caused.", sounds the intercom.
"Fuck" He says.
"It's okay, just keep calm."
"Thanks by the way, for comforting me. It means a lot. But let's just not mention it to those other 3 dicks." He grunts.
"Well before I ask about the '3 dicks', I should probably know your name." I laugh.
"Michael."
"Too cool for a surname?"
"Clifford. And you, stranger?"
"Tatum Jones"
"Well, Tatum Jones, you have quite a music taste."
