93 Sampler (7 page)

        I think this is the perfect chance for me to ask more about
her
, about her future plans, what she’s studying, about her family, but she speaks before I can say a word.

        “Sofia Cruz is your best friend?” She asks.

        “Yeah,” I say, “you know her?”

        “I’ve seen her around,” she tells me. “She seems like a nice girl. And she’s very… attractive.”

        Is this her way of asking if there’s anything going on with Sofia and me?

        “Sof’s great and all,” I assure her, “but she’s like the younger sister I never had.”

        “Oh,” she says. We start moving again.

        “If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?” I ask.

        She laughs louder than I’ve ever heard. “Am I doing another
Blinder
 interview?”

        My face starts turning red because I hadn’t realized how much of a questionnaire I sounded until she pointed it out.

        “New Zealand,” she says whimsically. “I want to go to New Zealand.”

        “It’s a pretty country,” I agree. “Plus I’m secretly a huge
Lord of the Rings
 nerd.”

        “Really?” She asks me.

        “No,” I confess. “Those movies put me to sleep.”

        “Wow, Ashton,” she teases, “I don’t think we can be friends anymore.”

        “What? Don’t tell me you’re a
Lord of the Rings
 fan. You’re much too type A for that.”

        She brushes her hair out of her face and starts blushing. “It’s a big secret of mine. Jackson is the one who got me into the movies and I never looked back.”

        I’m about to answer her when I realize where we are. The top of the ferris wheel. She’d kept me distracted as we climbed and now, I can see the entire carnival, plus half the surrounding town lit up before me. The buildings and people look like ants, sprawled out in every direction. I see the lantern paths going all around the field.

        “This is…” I trail off. I don’t think words can describe how perfect it looks. This is an image I’ll remember for years, the type that I itch get down on some type of paper as soon as I see it.

        “It’s not so scary now, is it?” Carter asks me.

        I glance at her. “No, it’s not,” I answer softly. Our eyes meet and neither of us speaks for a few moments.

        “I don’t think we can
really
 see beauty if we run from our fears,” she says.

        “That’s a nice quote. Who said it?” I ask.

“I did,” she answers.

“It’s… nice,” I finish lamely. I’m only half aware of what’s going on. My mind is focused on how close our lips are, and how they keep getting closer. Her mouth is pink, covered in a soft lipstick and is just inches from my own. A breeze hits us and brings the scent of her perfume to me. I can feel my heart thudding in my chest, my left hand still covered by hers, my right hand once again gripping the rail tightly. “Carter,” I start. My gaze drops to her lips and I’m waiting for her to give me the go ahead.

She starts leaning in closer, and I take this as a confirmation. My left hand turns over to hold hers. I move my right hand to the back of her head. I can hear her light breathing growing more rapid. I’m leaning in, pulling her head toward mine, and my lips are just about to brush hers when the ride jerks and we start moving again. The sudden motion startles us both and makes us smack into each other’s heads.

“Ow,” she says.

“Shit!” I yell louder than I intend. “I’m sorry about that,” I tell her.

“Geez,” Carter says, rubbing her head. “I think your huge noggin is going to make me bruise.”

“I’m pretty sure this is somehow your fault,” I joke.

“I say we sue the carnival for injuring us,” she suggests.

“Agreed.”

We share an awkward laugh. I still want to kiss her but the moment is gone. Dammit. I might actually sue Hill County for cockblocking me.

“You still scared?” She asks me.

“No,” I say. And I mean it. I’m not exactly comfortable this high up but I no longer feel like I’m going to faint. I sigh and lean my head against the back of the seat. The stars look even more mesmerizing from this angle and I let a relaxed smile come onto my face.

“Where would you go?” She asks me.

“What do you mean?”

“If you could go anywhere, where would you go?” She clarifies.

“Greece,” I answer.

“That’s not what I expected you to say at all,” Carter says.

“Why not?” I turn toward her. She’s also looking up at the sky.

“I just figured you’d want to go somewhere with a lot of art, like France, to the Louvre.”

“Why would I waste time seeing the art that’s already been made?” I ask, not really expecting an answer. “Anyone can
look
 at the Mona Lisa. Not everyone can
create
 it. Greece is the most beautiful country in the world, and I want to paint it.”

We’re approaching the end of the ride, and are now once again roughly fifty feet from the ground.

“Ashton,” Carter begins hesitantly.

“Yeah?”

“You’re kind of weird.”

“Says the
Lord of the Rings
 loving, cotton candy junkie.”

Carter laughs again and it’s soft and light, like a hummingbird’s wings.

I wish I could put its sound on a canvas.

        
I wake up and can just
feel
 that something is different about me.
        My date with Ashton was amazing, and so worth everything I’ll have to deal with when my mother inevitably finds out about it.
        When he’d bumped into me and asked me out, I’d been ready to say no. I’d been ready to tell him everything about my parents and their plans for me, but as I’d looked at him, I’d realized I couldn’t let the possibility go.
        So I took the chance.
        And I
don’t
 regret a thing.
        As I make my way to the bathroom, I glance at the giant teddy bear taking residence in the center of my bed and can’t help but smile, remembering the shock in Ashton’s face as I made every shot during the ring-toss.
        
Bet he hadn’t expected that.
        The denim jacket I’d worn is hanging on a hook on the back of my bedroom door, and my eyes widen slightly when I realize I never actually took the price tag off of it. Jackson had encourage me to buy the outfit, commenting that my wardrobe was entirely too business-professional for something that was definitely casual.
        
Guess I was too caught up in being with him to even think about it.
        I go through my morning routine, and I’m in the process of brushing my hair when I get an idea. It’s a crazy idea, one that my parents would probably question for hours, but I can’t help myself.
        I have to force myself to calm down, take a couple of breaths; Jackson is probably eating breakfast by now and I don’t want him to worry about me acting out of
character
; excitement isn’t something he sees from me typically.
        “Morning,” I say when I enter the main room. As predicted, Jackson has a bowl in his hand, and he’s watching some morning news show.
        Instantly he looks up at me. “Uh, hey. Are you okay?”
        
Busted.
        I’m unable to stop my grin. “Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”
        Jackson shrugs. “You seem weird. Not bad, just weird.”
        I merely keep my smile in place and make my way to the kitchen to get my own breakfast.
        “Wait,” Jackson shouts, making me jump.
        “What?”
        He looks at me, his gaze roaming over my face. “This is because of Ashton, isn’t
it
?”
        I bite my lip and nod, slowly; I can’t lie to him. “I can’t explain it. Something about him just…” I trail off, feeling my face heat up slightly. “He makes me want to do something I shouldn’t do.”
        Jackson smirks and raises his brows. “Never figured you for the type,” he says, jokingly.
        I smack his arm lightly, and when his eyes widen, I know he’s just shocked that I’m not arguing.
        The thing is, I’m not ready to give up my good mood yet. I’ve had my phone on airplane mode so my parents can’t reach me, and I plan on keeping it that way for a few more hours; nothing will bring me down right
now
.
        “Not like
that
. Just… I have an idea, Jackson. It’s crazy, my mother would
go
 crazy, but I’m going to do it.”
        Jackson tilts his head to the side in question.
        “I’m getting my hair done. And I mean
really
 done,” I explain.
        He grins. “Finally. I’ve been listening to you complaining about wanting to for months!”
        I take a bite of my breakfast bar. “I know. But this time I’m not backing out. I can do this.”
        I always wanted a new hairstyle. Having the same one since the age of fourteen, I recently found a specific style I fell in love with, only I’d never been able to go through with it.
        Until now. Until taking a risk and going out with a guy my parents would never approve of made me feel like I could do anything.
        “Do you have to schedule anything?” Jackson asks, and I shake my head.
        “I’ll call from the car. She knows my mother and me, she’ll make room if she has to.”
        He nods. “Sounds good. I’m driving though, okay? No way am I going to let you have an excuse to turn around and not go through with this.”
        “Sounds good to me. Can I borrow your phone to call them? I’m not taking my phone off airplane mode until after I do this.”
        Jackson laughs. “We might actually get your hair changed today at this rate,” he says, handing his phone to me. “I’m ready when you are.”

▼

        It’s an hour later, and I’ve just hung up the phone, so my hairdresser is expecting me.
        “Alright, so tell me,” Jackson begins, “What
exactly
inspired the hair thing?”
        A smile finds its way onto my face once again, as I recall the night before. “I just had the best time. I let go for a few hours, and found just what fun can really be.”
        He pulls into the parking lot I indicate to him, and I feel a burst of happiness at the familiar sight of
Jenny’s
, the regular salon my mother and I go to. When the car stops, Jackson turns to look at me.
        “What?” I ask, feeling a little self-conscious at the intensity in his eyes.
        He shakes his head. “Nothing, I just… I don’t think I remember the last time I saw you smile this
much
,” he says, and I almost feel like he sounds sorry for me.
        I don’t have a reply – how am I supposed to respond to something like that? – so I get out of the car and just make my way into the building.
        “Hey, Carter! Is- Wait, who’s the Channing Tatum lookalike?” Jenny, the owner, cuts herself off as she greets me, and I glance back at Jackson, who seems to get a little taller at her words.
        “Oh, that’s Jackson,” I explain. “Jackson, meet Jenny.”
        He gives her a wave, and she blushes slightly. “This wouldn’t be the same Jackson your mom tolerates purely because he’s military?”
        “That’s me. Barely tolerated, and apparently a celebrity,” Jackson jokes, smiling in a way I’ve seen only when he’s determined to flirt. Despite the fact that Jenny is probably his mom’s age, she doesn’t look it. And clearly Jackson doesn’t care either way.
        But today I want to get my hair done. So I cut in. “Yes, he’s my best friend. My mother thinks it would look bad if she didn’t approve of someone who is serving his country,” I clarify, hoping Jenny takes the hint that I’m ready to go.
        Luckily, she does. “Well it’s nice to meet you, Jackson. Anyway,” she turns to me, “I take it your mother isn’t here today? I didn’t get a chance to ask on the phone.” Whenever I come to Jenny, every couple of months or so, she seems to have a different color streak at the front of her bob-styled hair; today it’s a bright blue, and it seems to accent her oval face perfectly.
        “No, she has no idea I’m here,” I admit. I feel the nerves start to kick in, but push them back when I remember how good the cotton candy tasted. I think Ashton was right, I’m becoming addicted.
        “Oh? This is different. So what am I doing today?” Jenny frowns, and it makes me smile; she has no idea that I’m about to make her day.
        “Well… you know how you keep wanting to
really
 style my hair?”
        When her eyes widen, I know she understands, but I finish anyway. “I have color ideas, but as far as the style goes, you have free reign. Just keep my hair at least medium-long, and we’re good.”
        Jenny lets out a squeal. “Finally! Let me guess, your mom doesn’t know you’re here because she won’t approve unless it’s too late to stop it from happening?”
        I nod. “You know her almost as well as I
do
.”
        “Got it. So what changed your mind?” She asks, leading me to her chair. There’s a strip of similar chairs lined up against one wall facing the doorway, and on either side of the door there are additional seats. Each chair is loaded up with the different products and equipment each stylist uses.
        Jenny’s chair is directly opposite the doorway, and I’m slightly more relaxed by the familiar setting. Since it’s Sunday, it’s pretty quiet, and I notice only one other stylist working, and she seems to be talking animatedly to her client, who doesn’t even seem to notice there are more people in the room.
        I’m busy settling down, and before I can say anything, I see Jackson take a seat nearby and smirk. “Little miss daredevil over here had a date last night.”
        Jenny gasped. “No way! Tell me
everything
.”
        “I want to hear this, too. She wouldn’t say anything till we got here,” Jackson says.
        I laugh at both of them, taking hold of the cotton-candy feeling and making the most of it.
        
I’ve never felt this way before,
I find myself thinking, but push that to the side; today is just about the date, not my emotions.
        “Okay, his name is Ashton, and he’s a guy from my Graphic Design Club,” I start, but am interrupted by Jenny.
        “Wait, I thought you were only in Leadership?” She asks.
        I bite my lip; I forgot she wouldn’t have known the truth. “Please don’t tell my mother, but I’m not in Leadership. I just told her that so I could join a different group.”
        Jenny laughs. “I won’t tell if you don’t. But I
will
 ask about that another time.”
        “Deal,” I agree, feeling more at ease as she washes my hair, making sure it’s ready to be dyed. “Okay, so, Ashton. We never really got along, but then Jackson here suggested I go on a blind dating app to try and meet someone.”
        “Wait, did you use
Blinder
?” She asks, and when I nod, she adds, “I’ve been holding off because not only does online dating sound terrifying, but I always thought it was a last resort thing. But if you’re this happy maybe I should give it a shot.”
        “You should,” I tell her, not mentioning the fact that I kind of did use it as a last resort…
        
Do not think about that situation right now, focus on the hair,
I remind myself, as Jenny hands me a big book full of strips of fake hair with different shades.
        “Sorry, I’ll stop interrupting now,” she says. “I’ll let you look through the color book so you can tell me what you want when you’re ready.”
        I skip through the book, and continue with the story. “Thanks. So I ended up matching with Ashton, though I didn’t know it was him at the time. He goes by his middle name, not his first name, and I used a fake name because I was worried people would think I was a guy, so we had no idea who the other person really was until we met up.” I smile a little, remembering that first meeting. It was crazy to think that was just a couple of weeks ago.
        “Anyway, I’ll skip over that because you don’t care, you just want to know about last night.” I point to the shade of deep red that I like and interrupt myself to tell Jenny exactly what I’m wanting to do with it. When she agrees, she takes a quick couple of minutes to dry my hair. When it’s quiet once again, I keep talking. “We met up at the county carnival, and he was… so much fun to be around.”
        I tell them everything. I tell them about him making me try cotton candy (both Jackson and Jenny were also shocked that I’d never tried it before, and Jackson seemed almost offended that he’d never thought to ask me about it), and I tell them about winning the giant teddy bear and Ashton being impressed by my skills, and finally I tell them about the ferris wheel, and Ashton’s fear of heights.
        By the time I’m getting ready to tell them about our trip to the top of the wheel, my hair has been almost completely done.
        Jenny quickly leads me back to the chair after the final wash, and just as she’s getting ready to turn on the hairdryer, I grin at her in the mirror.
        “Did I mention he almost kissed me?”
        Dead silence follows, and Jenny lowers the dryer.
        “What do you mean
almost
?”
        I sigh. “Well, we were sitting on the ferris wheel, and when we reached the top, he and I could see
everything
, and there was just this look in his eyes that made me think…” I trail off, remembering I’m not back on that wheel, I’m in a really quiet hair salon, and everyone, including the other worker and her client, is now staring at me.
        I feel the blush on my face.
When did blushing become such a normal thing for me?
        Jenny seems to sense that I’m not going to finish the sentence, and quickly turns the hairdryer on, leaving me to my thoughts.
        
He’d made me feel like I could do anything. When I’d told him I didn’t think we could see beauty if we ran from our fears, I hadn’t lied; by facing my fear and taking a chance on this guy, I found the beauty of not only the city, but of how we could be if I just took my life for my
own…
        
“So why didn’t you kiss him?” Jackson asks, once again reminding me of where I am; I guess I missed Jenny turning off the dryer.
        I cough a little, clearing my throat, but the memory of why the kiss that I’d wanted, but never happened, had been stopped. Well, one of the reasons why, at least. “The ride moved and we hit heads,” I told him. I wait a couple of seconds, then sigh. “In a way, I was kind of glad it didn’t happen. Ashton is great, and he makes me feel things I’ve never felt, but… I have a duty to the company. My parents wouldn’t allow me to date him long term.”
        Jenny scoffs, fully aware of the previous guys my mother has attempted to marry me off to. “Ugh.
Duty
. Your mother is a great client, and I’m sure your father is great, but their mentality would fit way better with the nineteenth century, I swear.”
        I’m unsure of what to say, but as Jenny works on loosely curling my hair, I notice Jackson is looking at me, almost in pity. It’s the same look he’s been giving me every time I smile.
        I don’t want pity. I want to be with Ashton, and I want to style my hair the way
I
 want to style it, and I want to get a web design degree, not waste my time with business classes.
        But as I’m leaving
Jenny’s
, after looking at my reflection in shock because my hair is now a whole shade darker, with highlights of my natural red running through the layers, I finally decide to check my messages on my phone.
        I wish I hadn’t.
        
Chad Winston: Hello, I was hoping you’d accompany me to a charity gala taking place Halloween weekend. Just friends, if that makes you feel better.
        
I want to ignore it, but once again the reminder that “we do what we must for the Redford name” comes to mind, and I reluctantly reply that I will consider it; mother always says an immediate yes signifies desperation, so I take full advantage of her appropriate wisdom to delay a response.
        Jackson grins when we get into the car. “You look so good, Ashton won’t know what hit him.”
        I force myself to smile back, the fear of what my parents will say finally starting to fully kick in, thanks to the message from Chad.
        I do a bad job at feigning happiness, it seems, seeing as Jackson frowns. “No. You are not allowed to start second guessing yourself. Your hair looks amazing, you made the right choice. Be happy for once, okay?”
        He looks so sincere, I take a breath and nod. “Okay. I’ll try. Thank you.”
        And with that, Jackson takes us home.