Clarity and I get in the first car. The guy comes by to make sure our safety bar is secure. In place. We’re not gonna go flying out when the Apocalypse goes around some tight turn.
“Fuck. Shit,” Clarity says as the cars jolt into their first movement.
“You alright?”
“I might have to grab your leg, ok?” Clarity says this. “And I do have a boyfriend so—”
“I know, you’re not flirting with me.”
“Right. There’s no chance you and I are getting together.”
“I know.”
“And this is not..today is not..”
“A date,” I say.
“It’s not a date!” Clarity says.
“I totally know all these things. And more. I’m just here for the coasters.”
“I know why you’re here,” Clarity says, as the Apocalypse goes around its first turn, down a little hill and toward the bottom of the first, big hill.
“I’m here because Purity asked Ashley, and Ashley asked me,” I say.
“And you don’t really want to be here with me and you think I’m a queen bitch,” Clarity says.
“Look, Clarity. I don’t think you’re a queen bitch and I give you just as much chance as any stranger. You know if I meet someone at a bus stop, they have a blank slate. We could become best friends someday.”
“Or.”
“Or they could fuck up and we could have a two-word conversation.”
“I’m scared.”
“About us?”
“No, about the rollercoaster, stupid.”
“Don’t worry, the worst part is when they drag you up this first hill.”
“I know, that’s the part that bothers me.”
Clink. Clink. Clink. We lock into the chain and we’re first in line of the train of cars being pulled up the hill.
“You can grab my leg now if you have to.”
“I’m saving it as a last resort.”
“Do you know how many people die on rollercoasters each year.”
“Shut. Up.”
“Well I find statistics interesting.”
“Well I don’t find statistics about people dying on rollercoasters interesting while I’m on a rollercoaster.”
“It’s actually a very comforting statistic.”
“Keep it to yourself, fuck dick.”
“I’m just trying to break the ice between us, Clarity.”
“I’m actually going to kill you when we get off this ride.”
“See, if you do that, you’re going to majorly skew the statistic because less than one person per year dies due to an amusement park ride.”
“Oh you won’t be dying due to an amusement park ride. You’ll be dying due to being a fuck stick who won’t keep his mouth shut. That has nothing to do with rollercoaster safety.”
“Well, I guess tangentially—”
“Would you please shut the fuck up.”
She digs her nails into my leg and, to my surprise, doesn’t let up.
“This is really scary for you, isn’t it?”
Clarity nods, looking straight forward. Her other arm is wrapped under the safety bar, gripping it for dear life.
“I’m sorry. Clarity, it’s going to be ok. It’s just a ride. Nothing bad’s going to happen to you.”
We’re almost at the top.
“Everything is perfectly fine. You can sit back and enjoy yourself because you’re supremely safe. Very smart people have done all kinds of math to make sure that your ass is going to be in the same place at the end of this ride as in the beginning. This is like way safer than driving a car, hot air ballooning, doing coke, riding a fucking bicycle!”
Clarity looks at me, mortified, right when we’re at the top of the hill and we have a wonderful view of the park.
“Do you want me to shut up?”
She shakes her head no, biting her lip.
But it’s too late to console her further. We’re speeding down the first hill and Clarity’s nails are digging holes into my leg. I hold onto the bottom of the seat myself, never finding the idea of a rollercoaster perfectly safe myself and thinking, stupidly, that if the safety bar comes loose that my hands holding onto the front edge of the seat will keep me in place and not flying out of the car to my death. I do this every time I ride a rollercoaster.
We are up, we are down, the wind is in Clarity’s short brown hair and she looks straight forward like Snoopy playing the pilot of the Sopwith Camel atop his doghouse. She squints her eyes. All she needs is flying goggles.
At some point around the second or third descent, Clarity loosens her grip on my leg but she leaves her hand there, curved around my thigh, French-painted nails rested against the yellow zippered cotton of my club pants.
I forget about Clarity, Purity, Ashley, and this whole doing-Ashley-a-favor situation and I enjoy the ride. I feel the breath leave my lungs and my stomach lift out of my mouth as we descend the secondary hills. I remember the first rollercoaster ride I went on, the wooden one in Jersey and how my girlfriend and I rode all the rides in Dorney Park designed for couples to make out on: this one cupped gondola in particular where she practically jerked me off. Those were some of my first experiences with sex with another person. We didn’t actually fuck in that park, but we did everything but: hands up, hands down, Sarah rubbing the precum around the head of my dick, me licking my fingers and touching the nipples of her flat chest.
“Hey.”
“What?” I say.
The ride has come to a stop.
My hand is on Clarity’s leg.
“What is that?”
“Oh, sorry.”
“Are you scared?”
“No, I was just remembering a girl. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to invade your personal space.”
“Hey,” Clarity points at me. “No apologies.”
She’s out of the car and spinning around on the wooden platform beside the train.
I get up and I’m standing next to this glowing girl.
“I see what you mean about the first car,” she says, and grabs my hand without thinking. As we’re walking down the ramp away from the Apocalypse, she goes on and on: “It was greater than I imagined. I haven’t been on any rollercoaster in years. And the first drop! And the third drop..I think the third drop is really where it’s at for that one—don’t you?”
She stops.
“And you’re right about the first car. That’s the first time I’ve ever ridden in one. It was amazing.”
We’re standing in the middle of the ramp where the few riders now have to walk around us because Clarity is holding both my hands and swinging them and she’s holding them tight and I’m looking into her glowing face and I’m thinking what am I getting myself into?