(While we wait for Ben to get better I'm going to entertain you with some memories like this one, in which I think dressing up like the older girls will somehow inspire Lochlan to admit his true feelings for me. It worked! And I am still JUST AS AWKWARD. )
I leaned way up on my tiptoes and looked into the mirror. I drew the dark red lipstick across my bottom lip and then rubbed my lips together as I had seen Bailey do a thousand times if I saw her do it once. Then I took the comb and teased my hair but it's so long and heavy I seemed to only succeed in giving myself a glorious case of bedhead. Carefully I drew a black line of eyeliner along my lashes and added a tiny bit of mascara. Not a lot because although my lashes are long, they're naturally white. Too much and I'll look weird. Bailey's makeup is hard to figure out but I think I did okay.
I tied a little knot in the back of my t-shirt and slid into the miniskirt I stole (along with the makeup) from Bailey's closet, a skirt that is too small for her. It fits me in that makes my legs look way longer. I give my hair another go-round but it's a losing battle so I arrange the longest bangs across my forehead and call it a day.
I step back.
I look way older. For sure.
Once it gets close to closing time, I go looking for Lochlan out at the bumper cars. The Shit Show, he calls it, since it's the end of his first week working the Midway. Because he's new he pulls the worst jobs. We're not all that far from home yet. He says my name and then does a double take, dropping his keys on the floor. He bends down to pick them up and then he does a slow circle around me with a huge smile on his face.
I got this, I'm thinking.
Then he bursts out laughing. Oh my God, Bridget. You just wrote a book you're not old enough to read yet.
What are you talking about? I'm still determined to play it cool and act like all the girls I see who are closer to his age, which is a good five-and-a-half years older than I am.
He opens his mouth and then closes it, changing his mind. Sparing my pride, softening his next words as much as he can. You're inviting attention you can't handle yet. He takes my hand and turns away, pulling me down off the platform to head back toward the staff washrooms. Let's go get you cleaned up.
No! I did this for you. I want to be looked at differently!
He stops and I smash into him. I leave a red lipstick print in the center of his back on his white t-shirt. When he turns around he is still laughing. I'm so humiliated I want to cry.
What do you mean?
I want you to look at me like I'm...older. The kiss-
The kiss was a mistake. Bridget, you're twelve.
Admit that you like me in spite of my age! I clapped both hands over my mouth.
He stopped and stared at me. Say that again?
No! I stamp my foot. You heard me! Why would I be out here with you if you don't feel the same way?
He just stares. I am trying to wipe the lipstick off using my hands and my forearms without breaking his gaze. I finally give up and stand there with my hands balled into fists. My bangs are in my eyes. My nose is running. But I'm so stubborn. I'm not going to cry. I'm not. I'm not. Oh shit.
He comes back over and puts his arms around me. I keep you close. I keep you close so that when you finally do grow up I will be the first man you see. I'm keeping the odds stacked, I hope but based on your age I don't want to rush things and screw this up. I smile at that, because he's not a man, he's Lochlan. He's only seventeen, soon to turn eighteen. A man is someone with a mustache. Someone who has to shave more than four times a year. Someone who wears a suit to work and owns a helicopter, I think.
I'm old enough now. I tell him. Tears are dripping off my chin. They are black with mascara. His t-shirt is ruined. So is my whole outfit.
He smooths my hair down, tucking it behind my ears. Trying to get my bangs to go too and failing. We need to cut these, he murmurs close to my face and I push him away.
That's exactly what I mean. I'm just a kid to you. A pain-in-the-neck, a little sister.
Like hell you are. He hasn't budged. Still staring.
Prove it, then. I tell him. I untuck my hair. I wipe my fingers across my cheeks to clean up my face. Smokey pale green eyes and red stained lips face him down. My hair is ruined I think and I look ridiculous in this outfit but he pulls me into his arms, kissing me so hard it hurts my lips. I can't breathe but suddenly I don't want him to stop. Ever. This is like the kiss in the truck that night just before we left to come on the show only it's different because he's pressing his body against me so hard if he lets go I would fall. I throw my arms around his neck, tilting my head and he kisses harder still. He is so warm. So, so warm. Abruptly he pulls away, his hands holding my face up to his.
My eyes fly open and I'm expecting him to swear into my forehead like he did the last time but this time he doesn't.
I love you, Bridget.
My heart rolls into adulthood with triumphant fanfare before tipping onto one side, spooling down into a tight circle before coming to rest on the metal floor of the ride. He watches it and then takes my hand again to leave but I don't move.
I love you too, Lochlan. He stops, staring at me for several moments in the dark. My heart is back in my chest hammering harder than ever. We smile shyly at each other. It's a milestone, an inevitable progression after spending the better part of the past four years together without exception. What's surprising is the intensity of this. A ferocity I, we, never expected.
If this is love I am all in.
As we walk back to the camper he puts his arm around me and pulls me in close. I look up at him. Between the moonlight and the stars, the lights that never turn off and the music still blasting from the Ferris wheel I think I might have dropped straight into a dream while still awake. Everything changes now. Everything changes. There is no going back from here.
Once locked safely in the camper, Lochlan warms a washcloth and gets to work on removing the worst of the makeup from my face and all of the smears from my arms.
You don't need this stuff to get my attention, Bridget. You never did and you never will, okay? I nod and he steps back to admire his handiwork. I am scrubbed and shining, on display suddenly with no disguises to hide behind.
Come here, he says softly and I take a step forward.
