Jade|
"Really?"
Tori looks genuinely hurt by my tone. She turns over her shoulder. Beyond her is a kaleidoscope of color, the street filled with sound and swallowed by hot, yellow rays of sun. The peaked tips of tents are in the distance, loud trumpets blaring from somewhere, and there's the distinct smell of animal waste from a petting zoo nearby.
"It's the Jolly Days Festival!" Tori's arms swing out with her exclamation, indicating the entire field of people and noise and smell like it's some grand piece of artwork. I raise an incredulous brow at her. Her arms slap to her sides. She's wearing a pink tanktop beneath a white half-jacket that burns my eyes against the brightness of the background. "I used to come to this every year when I was a kid."
"Precisely, because you're supposed to grow up like the rest of us. Jolly Days is for children, Tori."
Her lower lip pumps over her upper. "There's a bunch of fun stuff to do here. They've got Henna tattoos and the petting zoo, a comedian playing at four, we can take a ride in freaking hot air balloon. How are you not excited?"
I let out a rough sigh, flicking my eyes behind her. The last time I attended Jolly Days, I was about six years old. I remember my father not wanting to pet any of the goats or llamas in the petting zoo because he didn't like the way they smelled, but he did accompany me riding on top of a camel. My mom was a lot more of a free spirit back then - we got butterflies painted on our faces and ate so much cotton candy my stomach was sore. Bitter, I narrow my gaze at the happily screaming children walking around us, the bright faces of their parents, and I wonder for just how many of them was it a temporary heaven.
"We can leave if you want." Tori's embarrassed. Her head is down, brown hair trickling to cover her face. "It was a stupid idea, I just thought -"
"No." I step forward. It's almost engraving itself as an instinct in my mind to touch her when it was the complete opposite not a week before. My arm hooks around her elbow and tugs her forward. "You have to remember that I am a cranky old witch trapped in this young body of mine. I've forgotten how to have fun."
Brown eyes meet mine carefully. Her lips part, close, and then reopen with a deep breath meant to gain confidence, I figure. "Is it okay to ask what you and Beck did for fun?"
The question catches me surprised, blinking at her. My arm drops from her shoulders, eyes turning back to the crowd. I move ahead of her, expecting her to follow and not looking back to make sure she does. We approach the ticket booth and buy a bracelet for each of us, keeping silent until the neon green plastic is stuck about our wrists. As we move toward the innards of the festival, I finally answer her. "We went out, sometimes. To eat and stuff. Movies, concerts. Typical stuff. Certainly never took me to Jolly Days." I smile down at her to assure her I don't think less of her choice. It's just not at all what I'm used to. When it comes to Tori, I'm discovering that a lot of what she does is not what I am used to. "Most of the time we were just together, in his trailer or at my house. We, you know, watched movies, did ... other stuff."
"R-rated stuff?"
I glance at her, not sure how to approach this subject with her yet. I haven't really discussed it with anyone other than Beck. I almost feel embarrassed, swallowing and forcing the coming blush away before I look like a pansy. "Yes," I decide eventually. "R-Rated stuff."
To my surprise, talking about it - about him - doesn't hurt as much as it did even this morning. Maybe it's the cheerful music and the sunny grass, the belting of goats to our right. Tori steers us toward them, bending at the knees to move her hand through the gaps in the wire fence. A goat nibbles at her bare palm. Maybe it's her, I think absently, watching her make kissy-noises at the goat. Maybe she's why it doesn't hurt so bad.
