It’s dark, but light. Quiet but loud. The fair burst with life. It’s really something when you go on one of the big rides and you can see the colorful lights, the stars against the black backdrop, the happy couples winning prizes for each other. Except I’m here alone. Yup. I came to the fair by myself.
Strapping myself into the seat, I can’t help but notice the girl next to me. She’s got light [but not too light] blond hair, light blue eyes, and light-but-at-the-same-time-tan skin. Her hair is parted to the side with a cowlick making it flip over just right. She has on a red pullover hoodie, Hollister jean shorts and plain black flip flops. She seems worried.
“Hi. My name’s Sasska.” The girl said without turning her head. Sasska looked at me. I’m awestruck. Why is she having this effect on me? “I’ve never been on this ride before. Can you hold my hand?” her innocence made me care for her even more. I lace my fingers through hers. Her hands are small and soft. Well, to me everyone’s hands are small. My hand measures eight inches wrist to tip of the middle finger. My hand tingles. We spin up and around. Her grip tightens. The ride slows. Our safety belts loosen and we stumble off the platform, hands still bound together. “My name’s Hazel Gonex.” I tell her. I love having an old fashioned name. I love standing out. Who wants to be a regular girl anyway?
I smile. I have no intention of letting go of her hand anytime soon. I don’t get why she turned to me. I’m average. Dirty blond pixie with bubble gum pink tips in a messy Mohawk. Blue green eyes peering through hipster glasses that were found in the men’s section of Lenscrafter’s at BJ’s. Tan skin with freckles across cheeks and nose. See? Average-ish.
“You’re not average, you know.” Sasska peeked at me. I cocked my head.
“You can read minds?”
“No. Just you’re. Just kidding. I feel like I can read you like an open book.”
“That’s different. No one gets me. No one understands me like you, and I don’t even know your last name!”
“It’s James.”
!@#$ %^&&**() _$&@I^&%&#$
“So, what’s your brand of crazy?” Sasska leaned into the couch. We went back to my house because the fair closes at 10. Sasska just got done explaining that her brand of crazy is that no matter how pretty random strangers say she is, people she knows ditch her and are mean. In fact, her ‘friends’ ditched her just tonight.
“People stare at me. I can’t go anywhere or do anything without people staring at me. They stare for a couple seconds, and then snap out of it, like I put them in a trance. I don’t know why.” I put my hands being my head and stare at the celling.
“It’s because you are beautiful”
