Becoming Ella: An Opposites Attract Romance Page 17

  Will doubles over like he's been shot. For a second, I think that he's in pain or having a heart attack or something. Just as I'm about to ask if he's okay, he stands up straight again, still giving me that over-exaggerated pained look.

  "Wow, the situation is worse than I thought. We have a lot to do today."

  "What's the big deal with the milk anyway?" I ask.

  Will retakes my hand and starts leading me with more purpose.

  "The big deal," he starts, dodging a trio of kids blowing bubbles, "is that this stand has the best-tasting milk in the world. Forget the crap strawberry or banana or chocolate-flavored milk at the grocery store. This milk is legit. You ever have root beer milk?"

  I scrunch my nose up. "Root beer milk? That sounds disgusting."

  I have to walk faster to keep up with Will. He slows a little when we get to a green stand with "Milk House" written in big lettering across the top. There is a huge line. Will parks us behind the last person. A couple people get in line behind us almost immediately.

  "It's not," he says. "And this year, they've got mint, strawberry, chocolate, root beer, peanut butter chocolate."

  I can understand all of those flavors except for root beer and mint.

  "And the best part is, it's only a quarter per milk. Probably the cheapest thing here."

  At the front of the line, a guy walks off, balancing four cups of milk as he makes his way over to his family. One of his kids chugs his cup in a second, throws it away, and gets to the back of the line for another one.

  "What flavor do you want?" Will asks, digging around in his wallet.

  "What flavor are you going to be getting?"

  "Root beer and peanut butter chocolate," he says, coming up with a dollar.

  "I think I'll try the strawberry," I say, scanning over the options again.

  "You'll have a couple sips of mine too," he says, putting his arm around me and pulling me close.

  I lean into his warmth and take in all of the sights. To the front of us, there are hug bleacher stands. I remember making my way to the top of those for the Fourth of July for the firework show.

  Then down the strip, there are rows and rows of food vendors. Some of them seem normal, like funnel cakes, ice cream, and smoothies. But then there are odds ones that boast of the newest, grossest thing of the year. This year it's deep-fried butter.

  "Happy we came?" Will asks when we are fifth from the register.

  "I am," I say, putting my hands in my dress's pockets.

  "You don't know how happy I am to be here with you, Ella," Will says, squeezing me before stepping up to the register.

  They're really pumping this milk out fast.

  "Hi, what can I get for you?" a flustered teen behind the register asks.

  "Can I have one root beer, one peanut butter chocolate, and one strawberry?" Will asks, putting his dollar on the top of the counter.

  "Sure thing," the teenager says, cashing the dollar and giving Will his change.

  Another teen in the back heard the order and rushes around the small stand, filling three cups and setting them hastily on the counter.

  "I can help whoever's next!" the teen shouts before Will and I are barely out of the way.

  I grab my strawberry and a couple napkins, and Will makes his way to the sidelines. I have to be careful not to spill my milk — they filled it up to the brim. The most I've gotten for a quarter in a long time.

  "Are you sure you don't want me to pay you back anything?" I ask Will as he stakes out a table for us.

  "Positive. All the payback I need is for you to have a great day with me, baby."

  He leans down and kisses me, warm and sweet. I get lost in the kiss and have to remember about the milk in my hand. He makes it very tempting to forget the milk and spend the rest of the day kissing him.

  He looks so good today — dressed in a pair of simple navy cotton shorts, a black shirt, and some black Vans. I don't know how Will can make everything look good.

  I smile at him and bring the cup of milk to my lips. The flavor explodes on my tongue. So much richer and creamier than anything store-bought.

  "You're right!" I say after a couple of sips. "This is so good!"

  I take a bigger sip and swallow it slowly, savoring the rich strawberry taste.

  Will has already made his way through most of his root beer and is starting on his peanut butter chocolate. He pushes his mostly empty cup of root beer across the table towards me.

  "Try it," he says.

  I pick up the cup and swig back the rest of the milk. Though I thought it would be disgusting, it's actually pretty good.

  "It's alright," I say, tossing the cup into the garbage, not wanting to give Will the satisfaction of being entirely right.

  He rolls his eyes, finishing off his peanut butter chocolate milk, and then tosses that in the garbage along with my strawberry cup.

  "Yea, sure. You know it's delicious. You just don't want to admit that I'm right," he smirks, seeing right through me.

  Will and I spend the rest of our afternoon making our way through the entire fair.

  We spend an hour at the expo center, and Will gets me to try things I never would have if he wasn't there. By the end, we both have matching blue streaks in our hair from hair clips a seller insisted we try.

  After the expo center, we walked down the strip of food vendors. We tried the fried butter, which was just as disgusting as I thought it would be.

  Right now, we're sitting on a green bench precariously perched on a smaller hill, people watching. It's the first time sitting down since we've been here, and my feet appreciate the rest. Even though I feel thoroughly worked out, Will insists we've only done twenty percent of the things we need to do today.

  "What else do we have on the list?" I ask, eating another bite of funnel cake.

  Will shakes the copious amount of powdered sugar off his before eating a bite. "We have to go down the big slide together, get someone to take our picture at one of the cow cardboard cutouts, go on the sky glider, watch the pig races, go see the animals, and buy some tickets so that we can enjoy the rides in the dark."

  I feel tired just thinking about doing all of that, but I don't say anything because Will looks so happy talking about it. For the hundredth time today, I am happy that I called into work and went to the fair with Will Keely.

  "You can have the rest of it," I say, pushing my paper plate towards him.

  My stomach is still churning from the fried butter.

  "You sure?" Will asks though he's already taken a bite of it.

  I nod, and he digs in. He folds the cake in half, eating half of it in one bite. It's amusing but also a little horrifying.

  He finishes the other half in an equally big bite and then dusts his hands off before throwing our trash away.

  "What do you want to do next out of all of that?"

  I think through the list of things Will told me. I don't want to do the slide right now. We are fairly close to the sky glider, which we could hop on and then ride one way to the animals, see all of them, and then ride back to the rides when we're done.

  "What if we did the sky glider next? I'm really full, and I don't think the slide is a good idea right now."

  "Sounds perfect to me."

  Will helps me to my feet. I look at my phone and see that it is about three o'clock in the afternoon. We've been here for about four hours. I know I'm going to sleep well tonight — all of the fresh air, walking, and excitement. I wonder if Will will be making his way through my window tonight. My chest heats at the thought.

  "Hey, come here," Will says before we can step off the hill.

  I turn towards him, and he leans into me. Desire courses through me as Will licks his lips, gets close, and licks up the corner of my mouth. He licks the other side before planting his lips firmly on mine, opening my mouth with his own and sliding his tongue in. I feel myself go soft in his arms. He can maneuver me anyway he wants, just like that funnel cake.

&nbs
p; He pulls away too soon.

  "What was that for?" I complain.

  "Well, you had powdered sugar on your lips, and I wanted to kiss you," he shrugs, helping me step down.

  I blush and follow him. My heavy stomach sloshes with each step we take towards the sky glider. I really should not have had so much of that funnel cake.

  Will pays for our tickets on the sky glider. We hurry before the rushing cart, and step in the yellow box like the attendants tell us. The car clips us in the butts, and we sit back while the man to the left of us flings the bar down and tells us to enjoy our ride.

  Slowly, the conveyor chugs and lifts all of the sky glider carts into the sky. Little by little, the people on the ground get smaller and smaller as Will and I are raised above the fair.

  Will scoots closer to me, and the car dips with his shifting weight. He keeps moving until our thighs are pressed together, and then he wraps his arm around me, pulling me close. I snuggle into his warmth.

  "Hey, Ella?" Will murmurs.

  "Hm?" I ask, turning to look at him.

  "You don't have to say anything back, but I just wanted you to know that I'm falling in love with you. I knew before today, but today just showed me how much I already love you, and I can't wait to get even more in love with you."

  He looks at me with so much sincerity that it takes my breath away. I know that I should admit that I feel the same, but my mouth decides not to work. I don't want Will to feel bad or worry that I don't reciprocate his feelings, although I'm sure that he already feels that way because I haven't spoken yet.

  Little by little, my anxiety works me up more and ruins the butterflies that are going crazy in my stomach, knowing that Will Keely loves me.

  "Yea," Will says, breaking the uncomfortable silence, "like I said, you don't have to say anything right now. I didn't know when to tell you, but up here, it just felt so perfect, and I wanted you to know. I love you, Ella Corren."

  Will kisses me on the cheek and joins me in looking into the distance, but his arm around me tightens. There is a lump in my throat that makes it feel tight. My heart is racing. I feel so nervous that I worry the funnel cake will come up. Will seemed like he was honest, but I can't believe it all the same.

  Him? In love with me? Me? In love with him? It scares me.

  Neither of us say anything else on the sky glider. When we get off, the person yells at us to head to the right. I worry about what Will must be thinking, but I also can't get my head straight on what I'm thinking. I know that I love him back, but that feeling scares me, and I don't know how to handle that.

  I'm scared.

  Scared about what my mom would think of our relationship. Scared about whether or not we would last — we're such different people.

  Once we're out of the gate for the sky glider, Will leads me to the right to see the animals.

  Just before we can enter the barn, I lock eyes with my mother across the room. She takes in Will and I, our intertwined hands, and I feel all of the wonderful feelings from the day vanish from my stomach.

  19

  Will notices that I have frozen beside him. By the time he turns to me, my mother is walking away with a group of her coworkers. Knowing that Will and I have been caught ruins the day for me.

  "Ella, what's wrong?" Will asks, tugging on my hand, trying to bring me back to the moment.

  For the first time since he's told me that he loves me, I look him in the eyes. I can see the genuine worry in them.

  My heart races. I can only imagine the lecture I'm in for when I go home.

  For the first time in the day, I regret calling in and going to the fair with Will. Maybe my mom is right. Maybe Will really isn't good for me.

  "I think I want to go home," I say, backing away from the barn.

  Just moments ago, I felt so in sync with all of the other people at the fair. But now I just see myself as dumb — wasting my time.

  "What's wrong?" Will asks again, reaching for my hand.

  I snatch it away from him and cross my arms tightly in front of me.

  "I just need to go home," I say, breaking away from the crowd.

  Will keeps up with me easily, even though I am walking as fast as my short legs will carry me.

  "Ella, will you just talk to me?" he asks, jogging in front of me until we are face to face.

  I try to step around him, but he blocks me. He reaches out and grips me firmly on the shoulders.

  "Let me go," I grumble, trying to shove off his arms.

  People veer around us. We are creating a disruptive arc in the flow of traffic. I feel embarrassed as some people turn to look at us. I feel exposed. I wonder if my mother is still around somewhere, thinking even more of how much I've been disappointing her lately.

  "I want to know what's going on," he says, just as firmly. He squeezes my shoulders gently, and I look up.

  It feels like a kick to my gut, seeing how upset he looks. Once again, I feel like I have ruined our day. It further proves my point that Will and I are two completely different people and that there is no way we would ever work, at least not long term. Will will probably come to his senses soon and realize that he didn't really mean what he said on the sky glider. He'll probably drive off just as quickly as he drove into my life.

  "I just think that it was a mistake to come here," I say, shaking free of him.

  It looks like my words kick Will in the gut. He drops his hands, and we walk silently through the crowd. I can already tell that he is regretting saying those words to me on the sky glider.

  Now that it is later in the day, there are more people. People have gotten off work, and a younger crowd has started to come out.

  Off to the side, I see a boy feeding a girl cotton candy. They are cuddled together on the green picnic bench. They seem oblivious to the rest of the world as they sit there, enjoying each other's company.

  My gut twists as they smile at each other and lean in to kiss. I wish that could be Will and I; that it could be that simple for the two of us.

  I shove past the last group of people blocking the exit. They let us through, and Will and I make our way onto the sidewalk. There's no time to stop because even more people are trying to make their way into the fair to enjoy their evenings with their loved ones.

  When Will and I are on a quieter road, still about eight blocks from where we parked, I hear him sigh, and I brace myself for what he'll say.

  "I don't know where all of this came from," he starts, flicking his hair back, "but I think that you're not being honest with yourself. I think that you had a really great time today, but when you saw your mom, you started thinking about what she would say to you, and then you let that pop your bubble."

  Once again, it is annoying how well Will can read me. I wish that he could be more oblivious, or I could hide my emotions better.

  "I think seeing my mom snapped me out of the moment and reminded me of what I was doing," I say, trying to keep my voice level.

  Why can't Will just give up and accept that we aren't ever going to work out? I don't know why he's working so hard to convince himself that we can be anything more than a summer fling. Or why he even wants us to be more than that.

  "Which was?"

  "Not what I'm meant to be doing. I keep doing things that I shouldn't be."

  "And who determines what you're meant to be doing and what you should and shouldn't do? Not your mom anymore. You're an adult, Ella. She can't control your life like that anymore."

  The silence hangs heavy between us as he waits for me to respond. I can't come up with anything because he's right, like usual.

  I know that I could stand up to my mother. I know that I could take up Will's offer and move into his van to not have to deal with her controlling behavior anymore, but at least my mother's thoughts are known.

  Moving in with Will, being the girl that Will thinks I can be, all of that is foreign territory. I like to think that I am brave and wild, but I'm not. I am so far from not. That is something
that Will will never understand about me because he is brave and wild.

  We walk in silence the rest of the way to Matilda. Despite my best efforts, I feel the corners of my eyes get wet. I think about how beautiful today was before I saw my mother and was reminded of how fragile things between Will and I are.

  I can't help but feel alone even though Will is walking right next to me. I'm sure that he doesn't get it. How could he? He's always been courageous, a free spirit, wild. He ditched our quiet neighborhood for living full time in his van, traveling wherever he pleases, doing whatever he pleases, working on whatever he pleases. I can barely muster enough courage to stand up to my mother and go after the things I really want.

  Will unlocks Matilda, and I swing myself in, appreciating that this will probably be the last time I'm ever in this van. I take in the trolls on the dashboard. I have never wanted to chuck all of them out of the window more than I do now. Their smiling faces annoy me.

  "You know, Ella," Will says, before starting Matilda. "I think that you're afraid. You're afraid to let yourself feel. You're afraid to let yourself follow your dreams. You're afraid to be real with yourself because what you're feeling and the things you want to do are so outside your comfort zone that you don't know how to deal with them. You think that life is this checklist that you can't stray from, but you don't have to live that way. Life isn't just a to-do list. Life is about feeling, doing. Being whatever the hell you want to be. I know it's corny, but you only get one shot at this life, Ella. I think you've been trying to live other people's lives without really giving attention to your own."

  He turns the keys in the ignition, and Matilda sputters to life. As Matilda starts up, I can feel my own irritation rise. Will always thinks that he knows everything. He thinks that he knows me so well.

  Why is he so persistent? Why can't he just back off and accept that I want to live my life differently than him? Again, I am reminded of how different we are. He can't accept me for not being the same as him. He's been trying to mold me into something more.

  "You think that you know everything. You think you can hang out with me for a couple of weeks and suddenly you know me best? You're wrong. Just because I don't want to abandon all of my responsibilities and spend my time laying around in a van doesn't mean I'm scared of living my life."