Next-Door Nemesis(76)
Well, one thing’s clear: Nate may know more about real estate than I do, but I didn’t overestimate the action.
Not even a little bit.
Chapter 25
Nathanial Thomas Adams!” I slap his shoulder when I finally realize where he’s taking me. “Are you freaking kidding me?”
The Ohio State Fair spreads out in front of us and childlike giddiness bubbles inside me like a shaken pop. I start bouncing in the passenger seat of his—very nice—Buick as I’m inundated with memories of summer days spent wandering these fairgrounds.
“You’re excited?” He looks at me out of the corner of his eyes as he navigates the crowded parking lot.
“Again I ask, are you freaking kidding me?” I look at him with my best duh expression before I start slapping his shoulder all over again. “Fried food, a petting zoo, rides that may or may not be up to code? What’s not to be excited about? I fucking love the fair!”
I went to Disneyland a few times when I lived in LA, but it’s just not comparable. Don’t get me wrong, Disneyland is wonderful. There’s a castle and the parade is dope, but it’s too shiny for me. Everything is overpriced and the lines are a hundred hours long. I like my rides with a little bit of dust and rust, like stepping onto the ride is daredevil enough.
A lot of my tastes turned LA while I lived there—yes, I will fight you for a good coffee and I paid an exorbitant amount for avocado toast—but my love for sketchy-ass fairs will never fade. I can’t wait to tell Ruby—she’s going to be so jealous.
“Good.” He lets out a sigh of relief. “I remembered the summer I went to visit my mom, we were supposed to go to Kings Island when I got back. This was as close as I could get for the time being.”
I was already excited, but my heart melts into a tiny little love puddle when I hear him say that.
“You can’t take me to the fair and be sweet,” I say. “It’s too much. I can only handle a certain level of awesomeness before my head explodes.”
Which is probably why I stayed with Peter for as long as I did. He never even came close to approaching that line.
“Okay.” He laughs. “I’ll try my hardest, but I can’t make any promises. I have been told that I’m pretty awesome before.”
“I both doubt that completely and believe it wholeheartedly.” I unbuckle my seat belt after he pulls into a parking spot not too far from the main entrance. “You, sir, are a walking contradiction. But as luck would have it, I’m super into it.”
“Says the person running for HOA president even though she claims to hate the neighborhood and is afraid of heights but loves roller coasters.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I shrug, tucking my hand in his as we walk up to the front gate. “All of those things make perfect sense.”
He rolls his eyes but doesn’t argue. He either sees the logic in my statement or—more likely—knows I will argue about this for the rest of my life and he’s better off dropping it.
I walk in the direction of the long line leading into the fair when Nate tightens his grip on mine and pulls me to the side.
“I bought tickets online.” He shows me the tickets on his phone. “We don’t have to wait in line.”
Holy crap.
Is this what it’s like to date an organized, responsible adult? Someone is always prepared and you’re not rushing around, trying to do things last minute?
The date has barely begun and it’s already my best date ever.
I look down my nose at all the couples waiting in line, judging the Joe Schmoes who didn’t think ahead like Nate did as we walk past them and the fair opens up in front of us. Who needs the pearly gates of heaven when this is accessible on earth?
We walk past the giant cardinal statue at the entrance and into the crowds milling around. Game booths and food trucks line each side of the pathway leading deeper into the fair. Picnic tables are scattered about and filled with adults and children eating giant corn dogs and trying to lick their ice cream cones before they melt all over them.
We make it to the end of the path and reach our first fork in the road. Rides sit to the left of us while more food trucks are straight ahead and the arenas are on the right.
“What do you want to do first?” Nate lets me take the lead. “If I remember correctly, you had some kind of schedule you used to make us stick to.”
It sounds a little unhinged when he says it like that, but it’s true. There’s an art to getting optimal enjoyment out of a fair. If you start with food, you end up with your head in the toilet when you move to rides. If you start with the arena shows, your legs get all tired, and then you need to inhale sugar, which will also disrupt the rides.
It’s science.
“Thank you for remembering. I do take my fair agenda very seriously,” I say with total sincerity. “We need to see what the show schedule is, but the general outline is rides first, then food, then a show, back to rides, and grab a final treat on the way out.”
If I had this level of focus and discipline in any other area of my life, I could run the world. But as it stands, I run the fair and that’s good enough for me.
* * *
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After we settle on the lumberjack show and petting zoo, we head to the rides. Nate pulls me to the ticket booth and we each get a wristband so we can ride as many rides as we want to.