“Uh, sorry, sorry,” he mumbled, but he didn’t turn away.

Sixteen the Hard Way
22.3 Smack!
by Erin Halfelven and Wanda Cunningham

That ride was the longest carnival-type ride I’d ever been on.

We must have gone around in the tiny circle a dozen times. Linda led the way on a painted palomino pony, and I followed on a spotted horse that might have been supposed to be an Appaloosa. Kevin’s charge behind me rode a shiny black horse, with Kevin standing on the platform beside him, sometimes leaning this way or that to keep me in sight around the central pillar.

And during all of it, Kevin and the ride operator watched me. It began to feel a bit creepy.

Linda finally had enough. During a quiet part of the movie, she shouted out, “Hey, Mister! Did you fall asleep?”

The man finally moved, pushing up on the big lever that turned off the motor and applied the brakes. The ride slowed to a halt, still somewhat eerily quiet since, unlike any other powered carousel I’d ridden, it didn’t have its own music.

Linda hopped off her steed before the ride completely stopped and ran toward some kid she had apparently spotted over by the swing set. “Jason! Jason!” She shouted, “Gimme a push then I’ll push you!”

I wondered how she had learned this other kid’s name as I dismounted more carefully. Not careful enough -- I stumbled a bit climbing down from the platform, and Kevin, the boy I thought I recognized from History class, was right there, putting a hand on my arm to steady me.

The back of his knuckles brushed against my breast then his hand leaped away like a startled cat. “Uh, sorry, sorry,” he mumbled, but he didn’t turn away.

“Unka Kevin,” the boy with him complained. “I’m sleepy. That was boring!”

I tried not to laugh, recognizing Linda’s similar mood when forced to sit through an adult TV show.

Kevin rolled his eyes at his nephew. “Go play on the swings with your new friend,” he told the smaller boy.

“Linda is a bossy snoot!” the boy complained, just as Linda’s voice raised into another shout.

“Jason is a poopy head!” we all heard. “C’mere, Markie, and gimme a push!”

“Go on, Mark,” Kevin urged.

The boy reluctantly trudged toward the swings, tossing one last resentful glare at his uncle.

Kevin looked sideways at me, and I giggled. I tried to stop it with just a grin, but it burst out. “Linda is a bossy snoot,” I remarked.

He nodded, then asked, “Are you two related to Donna Edwards? I think she’s in some of my classes at school. You look a lot like her except you have… red hair.” He didn’t actually mention my breasts.

I blinked, thinking, uh-oh. “Yeah, Linda is Donna’s sister, and um, my cousin.” It felt bad to lie to the boy, but he’d put me on the spot.

“I thought so,” he looked pleased. “Donna has a twin sister, too?”

“Uh….”

“Skinny girl named Johnnie? I guess they’re not identical.”

I nodded, feeling cornered. No way to untangle this without getting into my medical problems. Would I ever be able to go back to my school?

We wandered around the tiny playground a bit and ended up sitting on a bench near the gate beside the concessions building. I was noticing how much bigger than me he was, almost as tall as Rod Pick, and beefier.

“I’m Kevin Lindell,” he said. “Are you an Edwards, too?”

I considered what to tell him, making a quick decision. “No, I’m Joni Petersen. Donna’s Mom is my Aunt Helen.” More lies.

“Donna has a sister named Johnnie and a cousin named Joanie? And you all three look the same in the face. It must get confusing at family get-togethers.”

“It’s worse than that,” I told him. “Johnnie and I have the same birthday.” Not exactly lying again, but I couldn’t say it with a straight face. I burst out in what I would have to admit were giggles.

Kevin looked delighted. His grin made dimples in his cheeks, and his brown eyes seemed to turn golden when he smiled. His hair fell across his forehead in Clark Kent curls.

I grinned even wider, then my expression changed as he leaned in and kissed me—right on the lips!

Continue on Patreon for Members: https://www.patreon.com/posts/133224001?pr=true