Chapter 4

Monday marked the start of the first round of the playoffs, a best-of-five series. The four teams played two games every night at the stadium, with the winners advancing to the finals the following week.

We played the early game that day. While shagging flies during batting practice, I spotted Dave, Hannah, and Sarah take seats a couple of rows behind our dugout. The crowd was larger than usual for a regular-season game, but still sparse for a stadium of that size.

When we came off the field just before the game began, Hannah was still in the same spot, alone, waving at me. I figured Dave and Sarah had wandered off to find friends. As I stopped near the dugout, I silently mouthed, Later, pointing my thumb down the left-field line. Then I called into the dugout, “Hey, Coach, I’m heading to the bullpen.” He waved in acknowledgment.

Settling onto the long wooden bench in the dusty gravel along the concrete wall of the bullpen, I watched our starter, Jim Webb, warm up. The bullpen strip was just fifteen feet from the chalk line marking fair territory.

“Great day for baseball!” I called out to Randy and Wayne, who were already seated.

Randy looked up with a smirk. “What’s got you so chipper? Just get blown?”

“Nah, went to see the Pirates yesterday—swept the Phils. First place, baby!”

He chuckled. “Joe, I love baseball, but get some perspective—nothing’s better than sex.”

“Oh, there’s more to life than just sex.”

“Not saying it’s the only thing—but it’s the best.”

On the field, Jim allowed a walk and a hit but managed to escape the inning without a score.

As the team came in for their turn at bat, I saw Hannah walking toward us on the concourse. She waved and called out, “Hey, Joe, how’s it going?” When she arrived, I stood at the end of the bench as she knelt to my level.

“Good—only eight more innings to go,” I said with a grin.

“Oh, that’s right—they don’t play seven in the playoffs.” She paused, then reached across the railing to place a hand on my shoulder. “I really want to thank you for yesterday. I had so much fun.”

Her touch sent tingles bouncing through me. “Yeah, no problem. We’ll have to do it again sometime.”

Our manager stepped into the third-base coach’s box and glanced our way, shaking his head with a firm no.

Frowning, I turned back to Hannah. “Hey, I think he wants you to go. No fraternizing during the game.”

She bit her lip, disappointment flashing across her face. “Yeah, okay. Don’t forget—you’re taking us home tonight.”

“Sure, be down here later.”

She smiled as she walked away. “I will. I’m going to look for Dave.” I lingered for a moment, admiring her backside before sitting down again.

Wayne slapped his glove against my thigh. “Whoa, Joey—you been holding out on us?”

“I told ya—don’t call me Joey.”

From Wayne’s far side, Randy leaned in. “Yeah, who’s that little hottie? I’ve seen her around.”

“That’s Hannah. She’s Dave Carter’s sister.” When Randy still looked puzzled, I added, “New guy—big lefty for Coke?”

Randy nodded. “Oh yeah, I know him. Just came mid-season.”

Wayne cocked his head. “So, what’s she thanking you for? Thought you went to Three Rivers yesterday.”

“She went to the game with us.”

Wayne raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. You banging her?”

“Me? She’s still in high school.”

Randy shrugged. “Nothing wrong with that.”

I chuckled. “We’re hanging out—give me time.”

They each offered a fist for me to bump.

Hannah returned two innings later with a basket of chicken and fries and sat right behind us, three rows up. I pointed at her food, mimicking putting it in my mouth. She shook her head no, so I stuck out my tongue at her.

Jim didn’t have his best outing, giving up four runs in six innings, but Randy finished strong with three scoreless, and we took the opener, seven to four.

By the time I made it back to the dugout for the post-game meeting, all three of my cousins were waiting near the steps. Once the coach dismissed us, I joined them, and we walked together to my car.

As I drove up the highway, I asked, “Yunz guys want to do something this week—besides watching me play?”

Dave replied, “Maybe. What do you have in mind?”

“How about hanging out at the mall? We could see a movie or something.”

“Just me, or the girls too?”

“All a’yunz,” I said with a grin.

Dave groaned. “Are you gonna make me hang out with my sisters?”

“I’ll treat.”

Hannah reached forward and grabbed Dave’s ear, twisting it. “Don’t be a jerk—you love your sisters, remember?”

“Shit!”

“No swearing!” She twisted again.

“Okay, okay! It sounds fine. I love my sisters.”

From the back seat, Sarah snickered. “Yeah, cool. Thanks, Joe.”

I glanced over at Hannah. “So, Wednesday good?”

Dave rubbed his ear as Hannah answered, “No problem. We’d just be sitting around the house anyway.”

“Okay. I’ll be out at your place around noon.”

After parking in their driveway, I helped the girls out of the back seat. The way Hannah said, “See you Wednesday” gave me a chill.

I checked my wallet before heading out. I had a ten, but that wouldn’t cover treating everyone. I pulled the envelope out from under my mattress and grabbed a twenty, hoping I’d get some change.

Traffic was light, my foot was heavy, and fifteen minutes later I pulled into their driveway. From the look Hannah gave me, I guessed she’d rather sit up front, but there was no way Dave was squeezing into the back of my Pinto.

Once we left their neighborhood, I asked, “You guys been to the mall yet?”

Dave looked puzzled. “The mall? I thought it was Pineland Mall.”

“Hey, the day we get a second mall in town, I’ll call it Pineland.”

The theaters were right by one of the entrances, but I deliberately parked on the opposite side to give us more time to walk. We entered through Hill’s, passing Sears and K-Mart as we made our way down the long main hallway.

We checked out the stores along the way, and Dave suddenly stopped. “Hey, Spencer’s Gifts—we gotta check it out.” He turned to Sarah. “Maybe you should wait in the hall. I don’t think Mom would want you in a place like this.”

Sarah scrunched up her face in protest but stayed in the hallway. Dave headed inside while Hannah and I wandered over to look at the T-shirts. Some had depictions of marijuana leaves, while Hannah shook her head at one that read, I’m Not a Slut, I’m Just Really Popular.

Right on cue, Dave called out, “Hey, Hannah!” She turned, and he held up a vibrator. “How about this for your birthday?”

“What?” Her expression darkened into a death stare.

“You know, it’s almost as big as mine!”

“As big as your dildo? You may be my brother, but sometimes you’re disgusting.” She turned to me with a sigh. “Can we get out of here?”

As we headed for the exit, Dave called after her, “Hey, it’s not my fault you’re PMS’ing. I was just joking.”

Sarah saw us as we stepped into the hallway. “What’s the matter?”

“Dave trying to be funny,” I muttered.

“Dave being an idiot,” Hannah added.

When Dave finally emerged, I looked back and shook my head no. He got the message and kept quiet the rest of the way.

When we reached the theaters, I asked, “Yunz guys want to eat first? It’s cheaper than movie food.”

“Says the guy paying the bill,” Hannah teased.

“How about pizza? Pepperoni okay?”

Everyone nodded, so I stepped up to the counter. “Eight slices of Sicilian, all with pepperoni.”

“Drinks?” the teenage girl behind the counter asked.

I glanced back. They called out, “Coke,” “Coke,” and “Sprite.” I added, “Ice water,” for myself.

When she said, “Four dollars and eighty-eight cents,” I grimaced, handed her the ten, and pocketed the change. Dave and Hannah carried the trays to an empty table.

“This is pretty good—lots of cheese,” Hannah muttered around a mouthful of pizza. We ate in relative silence, only pausing when Dave asked for Sarah’s leftover slice.

After we finished, we cleared our trays and headed next door to the theaters. I scanned the marquee: The Frisco Kid, More American Graffiti, and The Amityville Horror.

Dave’s eyes lit up. “I’ve been wanting to see Amityville Horror. They say it’s a true story.”

Hannah frowned. “I don’t think so. I’m not in the mood for ghosts.”

Sarah begged, “C’mon, it’ll be cool!”

“Really, I’d rather not. How about American Graffiti?”

Dave crossed his arms, staring at her. I stepped in. “How about this? I take Hannah to her movie, and yunz guys go see the ghosts.”

Dave turned to Sarah. “So, I have to go to the movies with the little pip-squeak?”

Sarah stuck out her tongue. “I’m bigger than Hannah—I’ll just tell everyone I’m your date.”

“Yeah, okay—let’s go, honey.”

At the window, I said, “Two for American Graffiti, two for Amityville Horror.”

“How old are the young ladies?”

“They’re both fifteen.”

“Yeah, okay. Eight dollars.” I handed Dave their tickets and escorted Hannah toward the opposite theater.

Inside, we chose seats about a third of the way back in a half-full auditorium. Hannah went in first, settling about five seats in. Once I sat down beside her, she turned and said, “Thank you.”

“No problem. But ... are you okay? I know Dave was being a jerk, but you seem a little crabby today.”

She exhaled deeply, biting her lip. “Yeaaah ... there is something bothering me.” She looked away, chin in her hand. “I’m not sure how to say this. If I tell you, you gotta swear you won’t tell anybody.”

“Yeah, sure. What’s up?”

“You promise?”

“Absolutely. What’s the matter?”

She looked like she was about to cry. Finally, she turned to me. “It’s Mickey. I’ve caught him ... staring at me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like when I’m getting out of the pool or leaving the bathroom. He’s always in the corner or down the hall, catching a glance.”

“Are you sure?”

She frowned. “Joe, I know when guys are looking at me.”

The previews started, and I glanced at the screen before turning back to her. “What are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know. They just got married, and Mom loves the guy. But I won’t live with some pedophile.”

“Do you think he’ll do more than just look?”

“Maybe not. If he tries anything, I’ll rip his balls off. But still—I don’t need the aggravation.”

I moved my hand behind her, lightly stroking her back. “Jeez. Well, keep me informed. I’ll do anything I can.”

She gazed up at me, whispering, “Thank you.”

A minute later, the sound of the Star Trek theme jolted me to attention. There it was—the starship Enterprise, on the big screen. Nimoy, Shatner—the whole crew, plus some newcomers. I tapped Hannah. “Told you—I want to see that!”

“Is that your man Spock? You know, with the pointy ears and the bad haircut?”

“Yep, that’s the one.”

“Well, sexy he ain’t. No wonder he never got laid. Now Kirk, mmm-hmm.”

“Cut it out!”

Disintegrating Klingon battle cruisers faded to black, replaced by the text, 12.7.79.

Hannah whispered, “Doesn’t look too bad. I just hope they bothered to write a story around all the cool explosions.”

A few minutes later, our movie began with combat scenes in Vietnam. Confused, I turned to Hannah. “I thought the original was a comedy.”

“Yeah, I know.”

After a few tense minutes in the jungle, the scene switched to suburban California, with Ron Howard and Cindy Williams as bickering spouses. It took over twenty minutes to figure out there were four separate storylines—set in different times—all cutting back and forth. What the hell am I watching?

I always liked looking at Cindy Williams and seeing her with Ron Howard in the early sixties reminded me of Happy Days. In their storyline, Williams’s character was demanding to get a job and put the kids in childcare, but Howard’s character insisted she stay home. Hannah leaned over to whisper, “You tell him, girl!”

As Howard’s stubbornness escalated, I muttered, “He’s being an asshole. I wouldn’t do that.”

Hannah squeezed my arm. “I agree. You’re too easily whipped.”

Then, as the kids ran wild through the house, I groaned. “God, I will never let my kids act like that.”

“Tough talk now. Your little monsters ain’t coming in my house!”

Later, when the hippie couple got pulled over in their car, I whispered, “Han Solo!” as Harrison Ford briefly reprised his role in the briefest of cameos.

After bailing her boyfriend out of jail, Candy asks him “I love you, when are we going to get married?” and the stoner responded, “I don’t know man, it’s just a piece of paper!”

His dismissive line rubbed me the wrong way. I turned to Hannah. “It’s not just a piece of paper. It’s a commitment—a promise that you’ll always be there.” Sure enough, by the end of their segment, the guy was kissing another girl.

A few minutes later, Hannah shifted toward me and rested her head gently on my shoulder. My heart raced. I didn’t dare move, afraid to disturb her. At the same time, I was thrilled by the intimacy.

Eventually, I nudged her slightly, signaling I wanted to move my arm. She sat up, glancing at me, and I took the opportunity to wrap my arm around her shoulders. She leaned back, nestling into the curve of my arm and chest.

The fourth storyline followed drag racer John Milner.

Seriously, John Freaking Milner? Twice in one week? Of all the characters, in all the movies...

About halfway through the movie, Milner met this hot foreign chick named Eva who didn’t speak English and convinced her to go back to his trailer at the drag strip. Onscreen, Milner awkwardly put his arm around Eva, then leaned in for a kiss.

I glanced down. Hannah was staring up at me. I looked away, then quickly back—she hadn’t moved.

She was so beautiful. With my arm around her, I could feel the warmth of her body, the rhythm of her breathing. Her eyes drew me in, deep and steady.

Suddenly, I felt a tug on the front of my shirt, pulling me closer. Hannah whispered, “Are you going to kiss me, or what?”

Ohmygod. Oh. My. God.

“Uh ... yeah?” I stammered.

Slowly, I leaned in. Her eyes closed, and my lips met hers. They were warm, soft, almost puffy, and very wet. A thrill ran through me as my manhood stirred. I lingered for a moment before pulling back.

Her eyes remained closed, her head still tilted up, lips slightly parted. She sucked in her lips briefly, and I leaned in again. This time, I pressed harder, her lips parting as her tongue slipped into my mouth.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Milner on the screen groping Eva’s breast before she bolted from the trailer. “Please come back!” he whined.

When Hannah’s tongue met mine, it sent a jolt through me, and I hardened instantly. Emboldened, I slid my hand from her waist upward until it cupped the soft mound of her breast. I gave it a gentle squeeze.

Her hand clamped down on my wrist. I froze.

Fuckshit! Shitfuck!

Our faces were mere inches apart as I stared at her, panicked. She whispered, “Not here.”

Not here.

Relief washed over me. I managed a weak smile. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. We just don’t need to be putting on a show for anyone.”

I nodded, lowering my hand, and turned back to the screen, still holding her close. A few more times during the movie, I caught her staring up at me, and this time, I knew how to respond, even if I kept my hands to myself.

Milner was killed by a drunk driver and never got his date with Eva, but Cindy Williams and Ron Howard kissed and made up, presumably living happily ever after. Before the credits rolled, I leaned down and kissed Hannah one more time, our tongues meeting in a quiet, unspoken promise.

I lingered in my seat as the credits rolled, hoping it would give my hard-on time to subside. It didn’t work as well as I’d hoped, and when I finally stood, I had to adjust my pants. Hannah glanced downward, grinning knowingly.

She took my hand as we walked to the exit, our fingers intertwining as we moved down the dim ramp to the mall’s main concourse.

Once we reached the bright public area, she let go and ran over to her siblings, who were waiting by the arcade. Sarah was already gushing. “Oh. My. God. That was so scary—they bought this house where a whole family had been murdered, and then the demons chased them out!”

Hannah made a face. “Now I’m even more glad I didn’t see it!”

By then, I’d caught up with them. “Yeah, our movie kind of sucked.”

“OW!” I yelped as Hannah’s elbow jabbed my ribs.

“You trying to say George Lucas can’t do a good sequel?” she teased. Turning back to her siblings, she added, “Don’t listen to him. It was good, even if it was sad at the end.”

Hannah and Sarah kept going, their conversation flowing easily. Dave rolled his eyes, and I jingled my keys, motioning toward the exit. “C’mon, let’s go.”

As we stepped outside, a thought hit me. My life had changed forever. I didn’t know what came next, but I needed to figure it out—and fast. An idea popped into my head. “The County Fair is this week. How about we all go Saturday night?”

Hannah hesitated. “Okay ... but what do they have there?”

“Oh, all the farm stuff—best cows and hogs. But mostly it’s a carnival—rides, games, food. Ever had a fried Twinkie?”

She closed her eyes, scrunching up her face. “Ugh.”

“Don’t worry—they’re good.”

Dave perked up. “Do they have monster trucks?”

“Demolition derby, I think.”

“Good enough for me!”

I stopped walking and turned to face them. “One thing, though—you gotta bring some of your own money. I don’t want to go broke.”

As I folded the driver’s seat forward to let the girls climb into the back, Hannah leaned close and whispered, “Sounds like a date.”

When we spilled out of the car in their driveway, I asked, “Yunz coming to the game tonight?”

Dave shrugged. “Some guys invited me to a party down the street.”

“What, better than me?”

“We’ll be looking to hook up, not chaperone.”

Sarah snapped, “Bite me,” before heading into the house.

Hannah placed her hand on my arm. “I’ll come.”

“You sure?”

She turned her head toward the house and called, “Hey Mom, can you take me to Joe’s game tonight?”

Through the open kitchen window, her mom called back, “Yeah, but he might have to bring you home.”

Hannah smiled, raising her eyebrows at me.

I called back, “No problem!” Turning to Hannah, I added, “We have the late game. Try to come early.” I mouthed, We have to talk.

I was already in uniform, lounging in the bleachers about twenty rows behind home plate. When I saw Hannah walking down the concourse, I glanced up at the scoreboard—it was the ninth inning, a bit after eight-thirty. I waved and called out to her. She spotted me, waved back, and started climbing the steps to my row.

As she plopped down on the wooden bench beside me, she asked, “What are you doing all the way up here?”

“Eh, it’s got a good view of the field—and a little bit of privacy.”

She glanced around at the mostly empty stands. “Yeah. You said you wanted to talk.”

Turning from the game, I looked her in the eyes and exhaled. “Sooo ... about the movies.”

She broke into a big smile. “I had fun.”

I struggled to find the right words. “I was just, you know, a little ... surprised.”

She tilted her head and stared straight at me. “You can’t say you didn’t want to.”

I felt my face warming. “Oh, I wanted to. I just didn’t know that you wanted to.”

Hannah glanced down, then placed her hand on my arm. “Joe, I do. I like you—a lot. And ... it just felt right. Even if you did get a little grabby.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to...”

She squeezed my arm, cutting me off. “No, no. It’s okay. I understand.”

I let out another deep breath. “So ... what do we do now?”

Her smile grew. “I’ll let you kiss me again.”

She isn’t getting it.

I frowned and looked down. “No, that’s not what...”

Her smile faded, and she bit her lip. “You think I’m too young?”

I snapped my head up, locking eyes with her. “No! I mean, you’re smart, funny ... and sexy. I don’t know anyone I’d rather be with.”

She leaned in closer, her tone teasing. “Even Mandy?”

“Yes, even Mandy! You know, I haven’t laid eyes on her since we started hanging out.”

Hannah leaned back, propping her elbow on the bleacher behind us. “Well, she’s more than a year older than me, and she’s still too young for you.”

“According to her parents.”

“So, we’re skipping that by not talking to our parents?”

I struggled to keep my frustration in check. “You know what I mean. How do we handle this? We can’t exactly go, ‘Hey Mom! Guess what?’”

“Well, I don’t want to stop.”

“Neither do I. So we need to figure out how to call each other, when we can meet up—stuff like that. Without it looking suspicious.”

She paused, glancing away. “Yeah, I guess we can keep doing group things. Then see what happens when school starts in a few weeks.”

“Okay, sounds good for now.”

Paul’s voice came over the P.A., announcing the final score. “Game’s over—I have to head down to the field. But yeah, let’s do that.” When she nodded, I added, “You coming down to the bullpen?”

“Yeah. See you in a little bit.”

The game went downhill fast. Mickey Pavlick gave up three runs in the first inning, and things only got worse from there. By the seventh, we were trailing eight to one. The manager stepped out of the dugout and yelled, “Joe, get ready!”

I took the mound in the eighth. As the first batter stepped in, I noticed Hannah had moved to a spot directly behind home plate. Two cutters and a change-up later, he was walking back to his dugout.

After the game, Hannah was practically bouncing as she met me by the dugout. “Joe, great game! Three strikeouts!”

Somberly, I replied, “Need I remind you that we lost?”

She poked me in the side. “Oh, you guys are up two games to one. Don’t be so bummed.”

At the car, I opened the trunk and stood in front of her, unsnapping the waist of my uniform. “Excuse me while I whip this out!” I said, sliding my pants down my legs.

Her eyes went wide. “Oh, you have shorts on! I’m gonna kill you!”

After changing into my street clothes, we got in the car. I glanced at her in the passenger seat, and she was gazing at me with a wide smile and big eyes. That time, I didn’t hesitate.

After checking the windows, I leaned over, closed my eyes, and kissed her. Her lips were soft, warm, and welcoming. Her tongue pushed into my mouth, and the sensation was electric. Sucking on her tongue, feeling it move against mine, was overwhelming. After a moment, I pulled back, remembering we were still in a public parking lot.

As I drove up the expressway toward her hill, I glanced over. “Where did you learn to do that?”

“What?”

“That tongue thing. It curls my toes.”

“Give away my secrets?” she teased, grinning. After a moment, she asked, “Does that mean I’m the best you’ve ever had?”

I squirmed, unsure how to respond. She squealed. “You’ve never French kissed before?”

“Uh ... not really.”

“Oh my God, Joe! You’ve never kissed a girl before? And you’re how old?”

“Not true! I’ve kissed ... a girl.”

“One? And your mother doesn’t count.”

“No, not my mother! There were a couple. They just didn’t work out. Don’t tell anyone, please?”

“No wonder you weren’t very good.”

“Hey! Now wait a minute!”

She laughed. “Oh, take a chill pill. Can’t a girl tease?”

“I’m gonna get you!” I shook my head, wagging my index finger in her face. She grabbed it, kissed the tip, and held my hand in the space between the seats.

I drove with one hand on the wheel, occasionally glancing at her as she softly stroked the back of my other hand. My imagination wandered, and soon enough, I was hard again.

At a red light, she glanced at me, then down, and asked, “Is it like that all the time?”

“Is what?”

She pointed. “There.”

“God, Hannah!” I shrieked. As the light changed, I chuckled. “Well, not all the time. Mainly just ... when I’m around you.”

She tilted her head, grinning. “So how long does it take to go back down?”

Oh my God. I’m talking to a girl about my dick.

“I don’t know. Ten or twenty minutes? It helps if I think about something that has nothing to do with girls.”

She studied me for a moment. “Do you, um ... do something about it? You know, touch it yourself?”

My face flushed as I pulled into her driveway. “Yeah, sometimes. But not here.”

Indignant, she replied, “Well, you can’t walk into my house like that!”

“Talking about it isn’t helping,” I shot back. “Maybe I’ll tuck it under my belt.”

“Oh, like it’s that big.”

“You wanna find out?”

“Joe! No! ... not right now.”

She didn’t move, simply staring at me. Finally, I asked, “Anything else?”

Blushing, she peeked at me and asked, “When you do it ... who do you think about?”

“Gosh, this is really embarrassing.”

“I want to know—about guys, how they think.”

I took a deep breath. “Normally, who I haven’t had. Who I can’t have. That’s the most ... stimulating.”

She chuckled. “So, you could be thinking of anybody!”

“Okay, smart ass. What about you?”

“My boyfriend, of course.”

“But you don’t have a boyfriend!” My stomach tightened. “You don’t, right?”

She opened the door, halfway out, and whispered, “A girl can wish.”

Standing in the driveway, I adjusted my belt lower, and Hannah exploded into a fit of giggles.

Inside, she called out, “Mom, I’m home!”

Her mom called back from the living room. “Hi, honey. Did Joe come in with you?”

Taking the cue, I stepped in. “Hi, Aunt Janet!”

She stood and walked toward the kitchen. “Thanks for bringing her home. How’d you do tonight?”

“We lost.”

“Ah, you’ll get ‘em tomorrow.”

Sarah cut in front of me on her way to the refrigerator, her eyes widening slightly as she glanced down at my pants.

Before my aunt got closer, I said, “No problem. Hey, um, it’s late. I gotta head home—catch yunz later.” I spun out the door and down the steps.

She wants it!

Shut up—you’re crazy.

A block down the street, I pulled over, fished an old Kleenex from under the seat, and let my thoughts take over.

It was spitting rain late Saturday afternoon as I drove to their house. As my cousins stepped into the driveway, Dave exclaimed, “Damn, dude, where did the summer go?”

“I know. It’s been eighties all week, and now this.”

Hannah chimed in, “I had to change into jeans and a sweatshirt. Are you sure it’s going to be good tonight?”

“The weather said low sixties, and the rain’s supposed to move out.”

She poked me in the side. “It better! I don’t want to catch pneumonia!”

As we left their neighborhood, Sarah asked, “How far is it?”

“Eh, about twenty, twenty-five minutes up the interstate to the county seat.”

Dave glanced back at her. “You better not be bored already.”

We arrived on time, and I followed the parking attendants’ directions into a grassy field. I carefully stepped out of the car and held the seat forward for Sarah, who cried, “Oh, yuck!” as her shoes sank into the squishy mud.

Hannah came around the back of the car and held out her hand for balance. “This better be worth it!”

We soon reached solid ground, scraping the mud off our shoes on the gravel. I scanned the fairgrounds. “Hey, let’s do the bumper cars while we’re all still together. I want to kick your butts!”

“Oh, big talk from the little man!” Dave teased.

“Yeah, yeah. You think you’re bad because you’re six foot whatever.”

While waiting in line, I asked, “Assuming we drift apart, want to meet back at the entrance around eight?”

Dave checked his watch. “Okay, that’ll give us a few hours.”

Not long after, the electric hum of the bumper cars stopped as the power shut off, and the previous group exited the arena. When the gate opened, kids rushed in, and I ended up four cars behind Hannah.

As the attendant ensured everyone was buckled in, the power came back on, and we were off. My accelerator was floored, though these cars didn’t exactly set speed records. The key was steering. It took nearly a lap of cutting corners and passing on the inside before I got close to Hannah.

She took the next turn wide and bumped the car in front of her. I stayed straight, slamming my car into hers. She screamed as her head and arms flailed from the impact.