The Strawberry Festival was the small town's only source of tourism income. It was famous for great rides, fun activities, and the greatest strawberry jam to ever grace the world.
The annual three-day festival attracted people of all ages and social groups, despite the overpriced ticket fees. Hugh was among the throng of teenagers pouring into the fair on the first day, squished in the middle of the crowd pushing their way in.
He wandered the area, not really interested in the festival itself. Hugh was actually allergic to strawberries, and was too broke to afford the rides. Like many other introverts, Hugh was there only for the experience and excitement, and he planned on leaving as soon as he spotted someone from his school.
On his final lap around the festival, Hugh noticed an attraction surrounded by teenagers. None of them were from his fancy private school, so he cautiously made his way forward, curious about the commotion.
It was a dunk tank. Your stereotypical cylindrical pool of water, complete with a dropping platform, target, and bucket of balls. The teens were hollering obnoxiously, shoving money into the collector's hands and whipping the yellowing tennis balls at the bulls-eye.
Hugh stood on the tips of his toes, peering over the heads of 6-feet-tall seniors. When he finally saw the face of the boy standing on the platform, his eyes widened.
"You!" he blurted out.
The boy's brown eyes shifted and met Hugh's. His expression turned into one of panic, and Hugh saw him open his mouth just as the platform dropped. He swiftly disappeared underwater with a loud SPLOOSH.
Hugh muscled his tiny stick of a body through the other spectators, until he made his way to the front. Digging into his pockets, he pulled out a sweaty, crumpled five dollar bill and shoved it at the collector, snatching three tennis balls out of the bin.
"What are you doing?" someone shouted at him. "We all want to dunk Amir, so wait your turn!"
Hugh ignored him and stood his ground at the front of the crowd. He watched the boy drag himself out of the pool, his shorts and t-shirt clinging to his muscular physique. He must be a popular guy, Hugh thought as Amir clambered back to the top.
"Hey, you! Line up like everyone else!" Amir yelled at Hugh, evidently trying to conceal his surprise.
Hugh narrowed his eyes. "How'd you know my name, dog thief?"
The dark-haired teen looked confused. "I said 'you', not -"
"You're the one who tried to kidnap Harley!"
"What are you - oh, right. The dog. I can explain - "
Furiously clutching the ball, Hugh wound up to whip it at the target. "I had his leash tied to a tree, and you just picked it up and left! There's nothing to explain."
"I had Diego tied to a tree, too! It was just on the other side of the park, where I don't usually go. They're both Pomeranians, so -"
Hugh let the ball fly, shouting, "Then you're also a terrible dog owner for forgetting which tree you tied your dog to!"
It was meant to be a dramatic moment, but Hugh silently cursed himself for his terrible aim as the ball soared two feet above the target. Amir, who was bracing himself for a dip that never came, stared at the remaining two balls in Hugh's hand with a pleading expression.
"I realized my mistake!" he said. "Remember? I gave you your dog back!"
"No, you just accidentally let go of Harley's leash right before you left the park, and he ran back to me," Hugh scoffed, transferring a tennis ball into his left hand. "You probably would've taken him if he wasn't a smart pupper. Hmm, was the other dog even yours, thief?"
Amir stared incredulously at Hugh as he adjusted his aim. "I promise you, it was an accident! Yeah, I did take your dog, but I saw mine - and I swear it was actually mine - after yours ran away. I was going to apologize, but you were glaring these evil death fire spears at me, so I thought it would best to let you... er, cool down."
"I heard about a dognapper in town on the news today," Hugh said off-handedly, throwing his second ball. He and Amir watched it sail over the bars and into the pool, kersplunking as it hit the water. "I must admit, they were described as a middle-aged, blonde, female Caucasian, but the news isn't always right."
Hugh was acutely aware of the crowd behind him either leaving or watching the conversation like they would an intense game of ping pong. He ignored the mutters and shouts, instead focusing on his last ball.
"Would it help my case if you just came over and looked at my dog? You can inspect Diego's name tag or whatever," Amir sighed. "Look, whatever your name is, it was all a big misunderstanding. You have your dog, and I have mine. Can't we just be friends and forget about all this?"
Hugh slowly nodded, and eyed his tennis ball. "I paid for this," he said, "so I'm using it, even though we're all buddy-buddy now. Maybe I can bring my dog over and hook him up with yours."
Amir furrowed his eyebrows. "You have a gay dog? Is that even possible?"
"What can I say? I raised him well. Haven't you ever heard the saying, 'like father, like son'?"
"I don't think that applies to animals -"
Whatever Amir meant to say next was replaced with a THUNK and a SPLOOSH.
Hugh, still clutching his tennis ball, stared with barely contained laughter at the broken platform submerged under water, and the mop of black hair bobbing beside it.
