Barrett

 

For the life of me I can’t figure out why Presley would take me here. I mean, yeah, I’m younger than her, but geez, why not take me to Chuck E Cheese? I almost told her to turn the car around as soon as we got here, but then I looked over and saw the sheer joy and hope on her face, and I found myself mindlessly following her lead right through the gate.

I can’t remember the last time I’ve been on a roller coaster. I think my parents took us to Disneyland once when we were little, but my memory of that trip is foggy. So, when we get in line for this insane looking ride and strapped in, I turn to ask her why we are here when I look down and see she is practically green and shaking like a leaf.

“Hey, what wrong?”

“Nothing. Fine me. Why?”

“Presley, you look like you going to puke. Oh my God, you not going puke, are you?” I must look panicked at the thought, because despite looking like she is, in fact, going to puke, she laughs.

“No, fine me. Not like high me.”

“You are scared heights?” I ask a little more loudly than is acceptable I think, because the front three rows all turn around to look at us. “Then why the hell we on 150-foot ride?”

“Excellent question,” she signs more to herself than to me. She then turns and looks at me and I can see the therapist who has set her mind to something. “Because ride 65 mph best A D R E N A L I N E rush.” Her smile looks so unsure and pathetic that I can’t help but reach over and hold her hand…well, I hold her hand as much as I can with three splinted fingers, anyway.

“Want get off?”

“No. I’ve made up my mind and we are doing this.”

“What? Missed that.”

“No.” As soon as she signs the word, the ride starts up.

“Looks like stuck now.” She glares at me, trying to sign before we pick up speed.

“Maybe not say stuck, B.”

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” Which is totally stupid to promise because I mean sure, I’ve got her hand, but if something were to happen to the ride, that won’t mean a thing when we are plummeting to our deaths. Of course, I keep this information to myself and offer what I hope is a reassuring smile. The first loop my stomach drops out and I smile and close my eyes. I feel the wind on my face and the adrenaline in my blood. The air dances across my skin and I take in a deep breath of freedom. Free. It’s the first time I’ve tasted anything even close to freedom since I broke my hands. And Presley gave me this, even though she’s terrified, she did this for me.

All too soon the ride comes to a screeching halt and the bubble bursts. I Instantly want to ride again, but looking at Presley, I can tell that’s the last thing on her mind. Even if we go home now, I still have those three and a half minutes that I will always treasure.

“Good deaf you, if not, now would.”

Barrett: Screamed huh?I text her.

“Bloody murder.” I can’t help but laugh at her sign for murder. Maybe if she was being stabbed to death. Then it hits me this is the first time I’ve felt true joy in a long time. “I need find bathroom. You ride again. Meet me when finish.”

Barrett: U sure?

“Yes, go fun you. Bathroom, drink, break. That order. Ride many times you.”

Part of me thinks I should sit out a few with her, but girls can be weird about guys seeing them when they don’t feel well. And it’s not like I can follow her into the bathroom, so I might as well enjoy myself a bit. Who would have thought that riding rollercoasters could give me the same type of freedom that driving does? Well, obviously, Presley did. And it’s not really the same type, but it’s closer than anything else I’ve found.

I rode Superman and Kong, and find Presley sitting on a bench sipping a soda looking much more like herself.

Barrett: U good?

“Yes, thank you,” she signs back, but then types something on her phone.

Presley: Why are you back to texting me? I thought we were beyond that now.

I take a deep breath, really not wanting to get into this right now…or ever, if I had it my way. I gently nudge her over so I can take a seat next to her and then go back to texting. We probably look ridiculous sitting next to each other texting back and forth, but whatever.

Barrett: Because in public. Not comfortable speaking front of people. I don’t like looks of judgment I get...or worse, pity.

She reads it and doesn’t text back, but just looks up at me. She places her hand on top of mine and leaves it there for a minute. Everything she wants to say is in her expression, she doesn’t even need to say a word. So I lift her hand off mine and place it on my knee and send her one last text.

Barrett: The reason I speak to you because never make me feel less or different. Sometimes when around you I forget that I sound funny at all.

This time she does text back and with a quickness.

Presley: Because you don’t!

I smile at that and change the subject.

Barrett: You kissed me.

She reads the text and laughs but doesn’t look up at me.

Presley: Barely. Now come on, I need to be fed.

Barrett: Why so you throw up after?

Presley: Exactly! Way better than dry heaving.

Good Lord, just the word makes me want to do it. Dang girl knows how to turn a conversation on a dime.

Barrett: Guess sexy talk over.

She laughs again and puts her phone in her pocket, pulling me up. I’ve got to admit this has been one of the best days I’ve had in a while and it’s just begun.

 

 

After we leave Six Flags, Presley just drops me off, saying she had to get back to her dorm. She hasn’t stayed the night in a while and part of me thinks she only did because she felt bad for me. But then the other part quickly chimes in that even though she might have felt bad, that wasn’t the only reason. We connected, she wanted to be there, I know she did. So why is she distancing herself now? I wonder if Randy said something to her. I can feel myself getting riled up just thinking about it. He better not have started spouting off that crap about my mom and dad to her. I don’t care what he says, I’m nothing like Mitch, and I refuse to make a girl my entire world. Even one as special as Presley.