The smell of cotton candy and vomit wafted through the air. Ah, summer. You could always tell the fair was in town when you smelled funnel cake and horse shit. The rides went up 50 feet, max, winding, twisting. People inside grinding against each other, the walls, the germs crawling at them from every direction on the flaking painted steel.
No one could ever get me to go on one of those rides. Every time I was convinced, I was stricken with fear and ran off at the last second, but for some reason I felt safe with you up there. What was it about you that made me feel like, Maybe 50 feet isn't so high up after all? We spun back down to earth, and your tongue was pressed against mine.
"Hey," the carnie said, "no cannibalism." Yeah, you were pretty much eating my face. I don't remember submitting to that, but somehow you got me to. You know, you have immense power of persuasion. To think that was only 15 summers ago, and every year the same rides came back with the same germs and infestations they had when we were young; the same goes for the carnies.
They brought back all the stalls and shops; Bowler Roller, Poppa-Balloon, Down the Clowns, Milk Bottle Mountain, they're still all there.
I heard you moved back to Arkansas after 15 summers, and I remember who you are.
"You're the new kid, right?" I said to him, my friends giggling madly. "I'm Katie." My Tennessee accent attracted you, you said.
"I like a girl with personal flair."
"Well, I'm not the only one. Here's Barbera, Debby, LuAnn, and Stephanie. They all have personal flair, like me." I remember all of their names. I heard LuAnn died from cancer three and a half summers ago. I heard your best friend Tony died from AIDS 15 summers ago, and I still remember.
There are some things that I don't forget. Mostly everything. You shook your cute blonde head at me, and your Arkansas eyes flashed. All Southern boys are the same, trying to woo you with gorgeous everythings.
"I hear there's a fair coming soon." You look out the window, it's the middle of Algebra II. Fifth period. It was Wednesday, and the clouds looked like rain.
I nod and my synthetic earrings bob along with me. It was May 30th, 1993. "You should go. I'll meet you there?" I handed you a slip of paper with my home number on it.
I wish I could see you now, after 15 summers and look at you the same way you did to me that night. I met you there, and you snuck in over the fence.
It was hot. I had $7.35 in my pocket. The carnies were checking me out, and you were winning me stuffed animals.
To think I was 15 then, and so stupid already. We had fun, sharing stories and pizza and popcorn and laughs. Just friendly stuff, and then you ate my face.
15 summers ago, I fell in love with a boy named Alex. Alex was 15, and from Arkansas. His birthday was June 23rd, and his favorite movie was Pretty Woman.
I remember sitting on your couch for hours watching Julia Roberts on VHS over and over.
We went back to the fair after it closed. It was 2:16 am when we arrived, and you brought me a beer. You grabbed me by my right wrist and dragged me off to the steel building, where shops were set up.
And there, you gave me my first real mistake. Her name is Julianna and she has Arkansas eyes. Her birthday is February 12th, and her favorite movie is Mona Lisa Smile. I sit on the couch with her and watch Julia Roberts on VHS over and over.
She is just like you, and I wish you never moved back to Arkansas, because there, those eyes are normal and your accent is the same.
But here, I won't forget. It's something I can't let go of, like the sound of kids and rides going too fast.
15 summers ago, you took me on a ride that went too fast, and I couldn't get off that time.