When we get outside, I give Clarity the necklace.
She’s wearing a Dumbo sweatshirt.
I’m wearing the Alice caterpillar sweatshirt.
The necklace is Tinker Bell.
Clarity holds it up to look at the detail.
“Awww. Is this supposed to remind me of you?”
“Lol motherfucker. Just put it on.”
“I need help.”
So I put the necklace on her.
She keeps it on the outside of her sweatshirt.
“Dumbo, huh?”
“What?” she says.
“I feel like I could psychoanalyze that.”
“I feel like you could, too.”
“I won’t, though.”
“Thanks,” she says.
My sweatshirt is too tight and the hood is too small—I like hoodies with big hoods that make you look like Yoda or something.
“You didn’t have to get me a necklace.”
“Yeah, I know it’s not cool since you have a boyfriend and everything but—just tell him you bought it for yourself, ok? I wanted to get you something nice.”
“It is—it is nice.”
“Just—maybe you can secretly use it to remember the fucked-up kid you spent a day with at Six Flags.”
“Is that how you think of yourself? A fucked-up kid?”
“Listen, Clarity, you don’t know the half of it even if Purity told you everything she knows about me.”
“I love the necklace, ok? I’m glad you gave it to me. And hey—hey—I don’t care how fucked up you are. I like that ‘cause I know you’re not looking down on me.”
“That’s..a really strange compliment or..”
“Look,” Clarity says, and she’s beside me showing me the map of the park. “Number five. The Ninja.”
“That says ‘Thrill Seekers in Training,’ ” I say.
“But it’s suspended,” Clarity says.
“Is that what you want to go on?”
“I’m not sure I’m ready for Colossus—”
“Goliath,” I say.
“I’m not sure I’m ready for Goliath.”
“I’ll go on the Ninja with you.”
“You will?”
“Yes. I’d love to.”
“Maybe after that we can go on Goliath.”
“Don’t worry about it. I don’t care what we go on. Take me to the Ninja.”
“But I know you really want to go on Goliath.”
“You know what, Clarity, it doesn’t matter. It’s not about the particular rollercoaster to me. If you’re not comfortable with Goliath, we’re not going on it.”
“I could stand at the bottom while you go on it.”
“Fuck that. We’re hanging out so we’re gonna do things we’re both comfortable with. Just take me to the Ninja, ok. I’ve always been curious about what thrill seekers in training do in their spare time.”
“I think this is what they do as their training.”
“Oh, I see. Well train me up, Tinker Bell-slash-Dumbo.”
“Ok, caterpillar, let’s go.”
So we practically run to the Ninja ‘cause it’s dusk and this is probably the last ride we’re gonna get to ride before Purity gets done with her audition and when we get there, there’s almost no line.
“First car?” Clarity asks, out of breath.
“First car.”
We get in line for the first car. There’s only two kids in front of us. This is the time of night when everyone’s waiting on their last ride on the big rollercoasters so Thrill Seekers in Training is empty. Before long our car rolls around for us.
Clarity gets in first, so she’s on the right.
I get in second, so I’m on the left.
We ride the ride.
It’s suspended, yes, but we’re sitting in seats with a covered floor so it’s not that scary. I look over at Clarity and see how excited she is, and some of it rubs off on me.
It turns out to be one of the coolest rides I’ve ever taken.
It doesn’t loop. There’s no big drop. But the designers have done their job. In the dark, now, we go ‘round big curves and the car swings out, wind in our faces making tears stream back on our cheeks and Clarity grabs my leg, this time dipping a few fingers to the inside of my thigh and squeezing like a little child.
My melancholy gets the better of me.
I want to bed this girl.
But I know that’s not going to happen.
Then, somewhere between the fourth and the seventh time we ride the Ninja, I stop caring, I get off it, I’m not focused on actually sticking my dick in Clarity’s pussy—I transcend all that bullshit and I realize that I’m sitting next to a girl on a Thrill Seekers in Training rollercoaster and we’re both screaming at every turn and laughing afterwards and running from the exit side of the rollercoaster around to the line snake, running through with about twenty other people—who really are kids—who have decided to make this their last ride in the day. And I remember, having done it before, that if you ride a rollercoaster about ten times in a row, your stomach stops dropping out at the hills and your adrenaline stops pumping at the curves and you become the rollercoaster, like you were built at the same time as the seat you’re sitting in, and you know every movement of the track and where it’s about to take you—it’s still a thrill, it’s just no longer a surprise.
And Clarity is grabbing my leg.
And it’s sexual.
And we both know that.
We both know that we like each other.
And we both know that nothing’s going to happen.
And even my testosterone-fueled body is ok with that.
And in the mix of all this possibility of fucking and not-fucking, I find myself running hand in hand with the woman in the Dumbo sweatshirt from the exit of the Ninja, up a hill and around, down, through the line snake, and back into our seats in the front car, and I find that that’s my favorite part: running, childlike, with a girl, skipping in the dark through an almost-empty Six Flags to ride the same ride, over and over. And I tell you, my friend, some years fell away, right there, and it was beyond childlike—it was like we were children, and she was the girl across the street with whom I first learned to play girl and boy, when that was a simpler game whose object was just to have fun. And I think, through all these years, that the object of that game should have stayed the same all along.