Miss Me Not (15 page)

Several moving walkways later, we entered City Walk, which was the hub connecting the two theme parks together, the original Universal Studios and Islands of Adventure.

The place was enormous. We stopped for a moment so I could take in the spectacle of it all. There was a giant two-story movie theater, a crazy-looking alien-themed miniature golf course and stores and restaurants everywhere. I could see
Margaritaville
,
Bubba Gump's
and
The Hard Rock Orlando
. Music blasted out of speakers, making it feel like we were in one big party."Come on," Dean laughed, dragging me along by the hand. "We're going to get you a hopper pass, so we'll be doing both parks, but first, we're going to hit Islands," Dean explained as we strolled along.

I nodded, overwhelmed by the crowds and jostling bodies as everyone hurried to their destinations. Two weeks ago, I would have freaked at the constant bumps and accidental touches as the large crowd bottlenecked near the entrance to Islands of Adventure.

Dean stepped up to the will-call booth and pulled out a credit card from his wallet.

"Hey, you don't have to buy my ticket," I protested, pulling out my small change purse.

"I didn't, although I would have. When my parents heard you'd never been to a theme park, they all but demanded I take you, claiming it was a travesty or something. It's their treat."

"What?" I asked, shocked at their generosity.

"They said to consider it an early birthday present."

"My birthday is in May," I squeaked out.

"Well then, consider it an early Christmas present, although I'm quite confident they'll get you something then too."

"That's ridiculous. They don't even know me."

"They do know you. They know you through me. Plus, they met you last night," he chastised me as we had our tickets and thumbs scanned to get in.

"But…" I said, letting my voice trail off as a noise as loud as
a freight
train rumbled through the space we had just entered. Awestruck, I looked up at the massive green track that looped over a small body of water. I watched in fascination as another roller-coaster car shot out of the chute like a cannon, barreling around the track. Its speed was exhilarating to watch.

"
The Hulk
?"
I asked, not taking my eyes off the green monster in front of me.

"Yep,
The Hulk
," Dean crowed. "Ready?"

"Hell yeah," I said, letting him drag me toward the entrance.

The line inside was shorter than I expected and I could see them boarding passengers up ahead.

"It's kind of off-season right now, so the lines aren't that bad," Dean said, reading my mind. "During the summer, the line would be all the way outside," he added.

"Seriously?"
I asked, thinking of the long trek through the maze of bars we had walked through to get here.

"Yeah, usually we buy the s
kip
-
the
-l
ines
passes
during peak session. That way, you get on quicker."

"That's crazy. I bet people are stuck in line forever."

He laughed. "I once waited two hours to ride this," he said proudly.

"You're insane."

"We'll see what you say after you ride it," he said knowingly as we edged closer.

"How many?" a bored ride attendant asked.

"Two," Dean said.

"Row two," the attendant said, pointing us toward the big number "
2
" stenciled on the ground.

The ground beneath our feet rumbled as a new car pulled up to our holding corrals. Excitement hummed through me as we boarded the car and pulled our shoulder restraints down until they locked into place. I gripped the metal handrails on my shoulder restraints and looked over at Dean.

His excitement matched mine as he reached over and patted my knee. "You ready?" he asked as the car slowly pulled away from the loading platform.

"Hell ye…" I started to say as my words were ripped from me when our car took off like a jet. Our green Hulk car barreled down the tracks making my teeth knock together as we were flipped upside down in one of the big loops and then another shortly after that. Everyone was screaming, and the wind blew against my face. I had never felt so alive. Before I knew it, the ride was slowing down and we were back at the start.

"Holy crap balls, let's do it again," I said, climbing out of the vehicle with my legs shaking when the ride finally jerked to a stop.

"Ha, I knew you were an adrenaline junkie," Dean said, pulling me in for a quick hug.

I really tried not to tense. Seriously I did, but as soon as his arms encircled me, everything in me froze. He dropped his arms instantly.

"Shit, I'm sorry
Mads
," he said, looking contrite as he shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans.

"Because I'm some freak who totally turns into the ice queen any time I'm touched? It's not you, it's me. I shouldn't be allowed out in public," I said, stalking away in embarrassment.

Dean jogged up beside "Come on, freak, let's ride again," he teased in a soft voice. His eyes held mine, and the disgust I was so sure I would find wasn't there.

"We're like some after-school special, 'The Freak and the Jock,'" I finally said.

"Oh, I'm pretty sure I'd get top billing, so it'd be 'The Jock and the Freak,'" he quipped.

Yeah, it had Hollywood written all over it.
If not Hollywood, then definitely some teenie-bopper, feel-good novel.
Of course, both would have to write in a happily ever after since that wasn't in my life script. Live. That's the best I could do.

"Relax, it's almost like holding hands, but better," Dean murmured in my ear.

"Friends, remember?" I pointed out.

"Friends do this all the time," he reassured me.

"Right, I'm calling bullshit on that one," I said, allowing myself to relax slightly.

Our second round on
The Hulk
was as exciting as the first. I wanted to go again, but Dean convinced me the other rides in the park were good too. He was almost right. A half-a-dozen rides later, I was still convinced The Hulk was the best, but I had to admit, the other rides were pretty cool too.

"What do you think?" Dean asked as we finally sat down to eat after riding the dragon roller coaster in Harry Potter World.

"It's amazing," I admitted, taking a big drink of my
butterbeer
. "I guess I can see the whole 'theme park junkie' thing now."

"I can't believe you've never been to one," he said, taking a bite of his chicken.

"It's just not Donna's kind of thing," I said, swallowing my bite of food.

"What else isn't her thing?" he asked innocently, taking another bite of food.

Sighing, I debated answering. I could see his ploy. He was slowly unraveling my life like it was layers of an onion.
"Holidays, movies, dinners at home.
Basically anything that isn't church-related."

"Holidays?" he asked.

"Yeah.
She doesn't do holidays. Well, holidays with me anyway. Christmas and my birthday are envelopes of cash. Thanksgiving, she spends at the church in their soup kitchen, which is a worthy cause, so who am I to bitch. Easter is spent at the church, and I think one of the families from church, but I'm not really sure," I said, taking a bite of my seasoned potatoes. "I've never asked," I admitted once I swallowed my bite of food.

"Doesn't she ever insist you go with her?" he asked, no longer eating.

"Not for a very long time," I answered. "Look, Sport-o, don't get your jockstrap in a bunch. Trust me, it really doesn't bug me. If I never step another foot in a church, I'd die a happy person. It's not my thing," I said, shrugging my shoulders as if I really didn't care.

"Yeah, but, she's your mom. It's her duty or whatever to include you in holidays and everything else in between. Do you at least get to spend the holidays with your dad?" he asked hopefully.

I shook my head. Suddenly, my own appetite was fleeing. "I haven't heard from him since he moved out. Look, can we talk about something else?" I asked as my stomach twisted in knots.

He looked like he wanted to say something else, but the look on my face stopped him. "Sure," he said as he resumed eating.

Our conversation was stilted after that, and I was pissed at myself for sharing so much. My family screamed dysfunctional, but actually laying it out for someone made it so much worse.

We hit
Seuss Landing
after lunch and some of the fun from before resurfaced as we rode the whimsical rides, including the carousel, which had appalled Dean to learn that it was my first ride on one. He insisted we needed to ride it three times to make up for lost time.

Dean surprised me by buying me a set of Incredible Hulk dog tags before we headed to the next park.

"To remind you of the day," he said, sliding them over my head, letting his hand linger on my neck for a moment.

His touch was intimate and confusing. The contact was enticing, and I yearned to rest my cheek against his knuckles at the same time that I fought the urge to shake it off, knowing the pain a man's touch could cause. My breath whistled out in shallow gasps. I struggled to remind myself that his touch was different. His eyes never strayed from mine.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he whispered softly, proving his point by running his hand down the length of my neck, over my narrow shoulder and down my arm in a soft caress, until eventually, he gently gripped my hand in his. "Trust me, okay?"

I nodded, unable to find the words. I wanted to trust him. I hated the demons that made me frightened by the touch of someone I was slowly beginning to feel something for.

I was still pondering my mixed up feelings when we made it to the other park.

"You're rocking those glasses," Dean teased as we sat down for Shrek's 4D
Adventure
.

"Right, nothing offsets these classy green spectacles like pale, pasty, washed-out skin," I said, poking fun at myself.

"Porcelain," he said as the theater lights went down.

"What?" I asked, getting hushed by the overzealous tourist sitting on my other side.

"Your skin is like porcelain," he whispered, earning us another shushing.

Shooting her a glare, I turned back to Dean, only to see he was engrossed in the action of the show.

Fifteen minutes later, we were depositing our glasses in the recycling receptacle. I was getting bumped and pushed by tourists who acted like they were going to spontaneously combust if they didn't put their glasses in the container at the exact moment as us.

Dean led me through the herd, keeping a protective arm over my shoulders as if he was responsible for shielding me.

"Well, that was craptastic," I said, trying to calm my sudden claustrophobia.

"Yeah, the crowds can suck ass, but this is nothing. You should see it during their peak time," he said, shuddering to prove his point. "You up for more rides?" he added.

"Lead the way," I said, taking in his hopeful expression. If I was going to do this whole living thing, I was going to need to start acting normal and less like someone with serious obsessive compulsive issues.

Dean swung our hands slightly as we walked. I was most certain that “
friends
”
didn't hold hands, but his touch was becoming oddly addicting. I could have done without the whole preteen hand swinging, but I tolerated it even though the whole cliché of it made me want to cringe. It could have been worse. He could have insisted we walk with our hands in each other's back pockets. Just the idea made me want to puke a little.

The week following our trip to
Universal Studios
was wrought with firsts for me. Dean somehow
roped,
cajoled, conned, pretty much tricked me into agreeing to have Thanksgiving with his family. I balked at the mere suggestion of it, but over the two days we spent at school the week of Thanksgiving, he made it his personal mission to wear me down until I finally gave up in exasperation. The moment I agreed, I instantly wished I could retract my words. Family dinners were bad enough, but holiday family dinners were equivalent to Chinese water torture as far as I was concerned.
Meeting new people, making polite chit-chat and acting like I was normal just seemed way too daunting for me.

As a last-ditch attempt to weasel out of it, I finally confessed two nights before Thanksgiving that I had nothing to wear that was presentable.

"You're always presentable," Dean
lied
kindly.

"Right," I snorted, glaring at the iPhone in my hand. Even though he couldn't see me, I still rolled my eyes dramatically. Of course, the fact that he couldn't see me made the whole thing lose some of its luster.