My Sort-of, Kind-of Hero (14 page)

The truth is, I don’t know. And I don’t know why I didn’t like Sara. And why I wanted to put Tina back into her car and send her packing the minute I saw her out the window. But, somehow I just
know
these woman aren’t right for Travis.

“I don’t know,” I answer, truthfully.

He studies my face for a minute before I see his jaw tighten.

“Do you want me to be alone Etty?” he asks. “Do you want to forget the book thing? The me falling in love thing?”

“No,” I say emphatically.

“But you don’t like any of the women I date?” he asks.

“No,” I say in agreement and because he doesn’t ask, I don’t explain why.

He nods his head.

“I’m going to pick you up tomorrow night at seven,” he says decisively.

“For what?” I ask.

He takes a deep breath, “Just be ready.”

But ready for what?

I open my mouth to ask him again when a large gush of wind coming from somewhere cuts me off. I frown and look up to see that the ceiling is starting to droop.

“What the−”

Suddenly the floor seems to fall out from beneath my feet; the once solid, bouncy form is now deflated. I lose my footing and fall sideways.

Before I am able to figure out where to put my hands to help myself up, I feel a strong arm around my waist and I am pulled backwards. I hear the noise of the zipper again before I see the remaining daylight flood into the now dark and collapsed bouncy castle.

“Hey!” Travis yells, and I can see he’s trying to get the attention of the two young guys on the other end of the obstacle course who are standing and chatting with each other.

“Hey!” One of the guys yells back. “Were you guys in there?”

I give him the best “yes genius” look I can muster.

“Don’t you guys check that no one is in these things before you start deflating?” Travis yells back, as the two young guys walk over to us. “Etty nearly got smothered in there.”

“Sorry man,” the young guy says. “We didn’t expect anyone to be in there.”

“Well, you should check next time!” I argue.

“Well, we don’t really expect couples to be in the bouncy castle…” he doesn’t finish his thought and I’m not sure why but it makes me go scarlet.

“Just check next time, okay?” Travis says, taking my hand. “Come on, I’ll make you a cup of tea.”

I avoid the young guy’s eyes as we make our way over the lawn. I look down at our entwined hands and I’m not sure why but this makes me blush profusely too.

“It was nice what you did for me today,” I say. “In the ball pit. You could have left me.”

“So could you,” he says and opens the front door to my parents’ house.

Chapter Twelve

“What are we doing here?” I ask as Travis pulls his car into a parking spot.

“You’ll see,” he says, opening his door.

“You know, there’s a lot of stores closer to home if you needed something,” I make my way around the car to meet him.

“Come on,” Travis takes my hand in his and leads me to the entrance.

That’s the second time he has done this, just takes my hand like it’s
natural
. And it’s strange how
not-strange
I’m starting to feel when he does it.

I haven’t been to Woodbine Mall since I was a kid. Mainly because it is a good hour drive from my house, but also because the mall’s main attraction is an indoor amusement park for children. After I turned thirteen I was more concerned about the clothes in the mall than the rides.

We walk inside and it is pretty much exactly as I remember it. The main attraction is the big Ferris Wheel set between the two levels of the mall− half on the upper floor, half on the lower. In the corner are the bumper cars that always gave me whiplash. The teacups, the flying planes, and the Merry-Go-Round are all where they were fifteen years ago. Bells go off in front of me and Travis and the barriers come down to stop traffic as the train that loops around the small amusement park passes by.

I frown and turn to Travis. “What are we doing here?”

“We’re here to go on the rides,” he says.

“But you hate rides,” I point out. “And amusement parks.”

“No, I hate
heights
,” he says and smiles. “But rides catered for children don’t go high.”

I look at the different rides, the children on them smiling and screaming their joy while their parents beside them soak it all up.

“I don’t get it,” I say.

“You said that this was the perfect scene for a date in your book,” Travis says.

“Yes…” I say.

“And you need me in order for you to be able to write your book.”

“Okay…” I agree.

“So,” he says looking around, “start mentally writing.”

I look at him in confusion. “But I’m writing a love story.”

“I know,” he says, leading me over to the ticket booth. “Two adult passes please.”

As he hands the girl at the booth his Visa I shake my head.

“Are you meeting someone here?” I ask him and quickly look around. For some reason the thought of Tina showing up makes my fists clench. Not that I would attack her, I’m not a physical person. But I would give her the staring of a lifetime.

“No,” he says, taking my wrist and putting on my wrist band. “Can you put mine on?”

I take the band from him and wrap it around his wrist.

“You realise that the whole point of the book is I’m not supposed to be making stuff up,” I say, though I have no idea why I am explaining this to him again. “I’m supposed to watch you go on an actual date.”

He takes my hand again and we walk over to the train ride.

“Okay, you can be my date,” he says, pulling me onto one of the compartments at the back of the train. It’s really designed for children, so although the two of us fit it’s a bit of a tight squeeze.

“Travis,” I try to adjust myself in the seat so it doesn’t feel like I am sitting on his lap. “We can’t
pretend
to be on a date. The whole point is it’s supposed to be
real
.”

“Okay,” he shrugs. “Then this will be a real date.”

The train starts at that moment, which saves me from responding for the time being as the somewhat creepy, old fashioned carousel music begins to play in the background.

He said this is a real date. He obviously came here with the intention of this being a real date.

I should be freaked out by this. I should stand up, get off this miniature train, and walk right out of here.

But I don’t.

Travis is taking me out on a date. Travis and I are on a
date
.

I wonder if he is going to win me something from one of the games.

“Can I ask you a question?” he asks as we complete our first loop on the train.

“Okay,” I say, warily, not sure what to expect from him at this point. I mean, he arranged a date that I had no idea about. The possibilities here are endless.

“You’re writing this big love story,” he says, his arm casually slung over my shoulder. “What do you think love is?”

I can’t help the laugh that escapes.

“What?” he asks.

“That’s not a question, that’s
the
question,” I say, shaking my head at him.

“Okay,” he starts again. “Can I ask you
the
question?”

I look at him for a minute, trying to think if I’m ready to answer this question considering all the things that are happening right now.

“Do you know who my favourite fictional character is?” I ask him instead.

He shakes his head.

“Mr. Darcy,” I answer.

“He’s every girl’s favourite character,” Travis says.

“And there is a reason why,” I say. “Mr. Darcy was a self-important man. He met Elizabeth Bennet and immediately dismissed her because she didn’t fit into the life that he was comfortable with. Once he got to know her, he discovered that what he should have wanted and what he actually wanted were two completely different things.”

“That’s every chick flick I’ve ever watched,” Travis says as he we pass the bumper cars again.

“Yes, but here’s the kicker. He
changes
. Not because Elizabeth wants him to, or tells him to. He changes because he wants to be a different person, a better person. Someone who is worthy of her. And in order to do that he has to act in a selfless way with absolutely no hope of reward,” I say, and I know my voice has taken on a slightly dreamy tone. “That’s what I think love is. Loving someone who makes you want to be a better person.”

As we make the final turn and the train comes to a stop, Travis still hasn’t said anything.

I lightly laugh. “At least I
hope
that’s what love is.”

I dart my eyes in Travis’s direction, expecting him to be a little uncomfortable with my declaration, but his face is soft and he seems pleased with my answer.

As we stand in line waiting to get on the Merry-Go-Round I turn to him.

“So, who is your favourite fictional couple?” I ask.

Travis seems to think about it, scrunching up his mouth with the effort.

“Mickey and Minnie,” he nods decisively.

“As in Mouse?” I laugh.

“They like each other, they’re nice to each other, and they always look like they’re having a fun time,” he says, shrugging at his explanation.

And the more I think about it, it’s actually a pretty good choice. I mean, obviously it isn’t Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy, but it has some worth.

The Merry-Go-Round is fun and I’m suddenly reminded why carnivals are the best place for first dates: there is so much going on. You run from one activity to the next and although you are able to talk to your date it’s not the same as sitting across from them at the dinner table and feeling like you’re on an audition for two hours.

Also, who doesn’t love candy apples?

“Should we try the bumper cars next?” Travis asks as we get off the Merry-Go-Round.

I honestly hate the bumper cars. I always get trapped in a corner as someone repeatedly runs into the back of me. I would rather sit in those teacups spinning round and round until I have to throw up.

I look longingly at the Ferris Wheel but then avert my eyes when I see Travis is waiting for my response.

“Okay, the bumper cars are fun,” I say.

He takes my hand again− which I’m strangely getting used to− and leads me over to the bumper cars in the corner.

Once we are strapped in our own cars, a big fog horn goes off to indicate war has begun. I can feel the little children eyeing me as their prey, and I would like to say that I put on a brave face, but I’m terrified and it shows.

The first one hits me from the left and my body flings across the seat. Then someone hits me from the right and I’m flung back in the opposite direction. I try and make a bolt for it, but the steering wheel is heavy and I end up in the corner. Just perfect. And then it starts, the first hit from behind causes the boy driving to laugh gleefully. The second hit I feel is just cruel. I brace myself for the third hit but then I see Travis’s car whiz by and he sends the boy crashing into the wall.

Thankfully the fog horn sounds quickly to announce our session is over and I undo my seat belt and get out of there as fast as I can.

Travis finds me at the exit door and steers me away into the main area again.

We walk past a clown who is painting kids’ faces, and I suddenly stop, something catching my eye.

“I like that unicorn,” I say, pointing to the bright pink stuffed animal hanging from the ceiling of a game booth.

Travis looks from the unicorn to me. “Is that a hint?”

“I didn’t think I was being subtle,” I say, batting my eyelashes at him.

“How much is it?” Travis asks the man in charge of the game, reaching for his wallet.

“One dart for three dollars, four for ten. You just pop a balloon with the dart and you get a prize,” he says, perking up at the prospect of a new customer.

“Oh, that sounds easy!” I say, clapping my hands together.

“How many times do you have to pop a balloon to get the unicorn?” Travis asks.

“Five,” the man answers brightly.

“I could buy you a unicorn for cheaper than that!” Travis says, turning to me.

My face falls. “But that’s not the point,” I argue.

Travis looks at my pout before he lifts his eyes up to the ceiling, shaking his head. “Okay, I will take five darts.”

I immediately perk up again, and reach out for his arm. “You’ll do great!” I say.

Travis takes the first dart from the man and throws it at the wall. It doesn’t even make it all the way and falls pitifully to the floor.

“Must have been a bad dart,” I argue.

He frowns, picks up the second dart and this time takes a little more aim before throwing it. This time it makes it to the wall but doesn’t manage to stick.

“That’s okay, it−” Before I can finish my thought, Travis is handing me his jacket to hold so he has both hands free. He picks up the next dart, his face all business, and plants his feet, ready for action.

None of the five darts pop any balloons, and before I can offer him any words of consolation he has slapped down a twenty on the ledge and rolled up his sleeves.

“Travis, you don’t have to−” but I can tell he isn’t listening to a word I’m saying.

He throws another dart and it actually connects to the side of a balloon, but it only serves to pin the balloon to the wall more. Is that even possible? These are like miracle balloons.

“This is obviously rigged!” I argue, picking up one of the darts. I throw it at the wall, my back leg kicking up from the effort and it connects with a bright yellow balloon, popping it instantly.

“We have a winner!” The operator yells.

I look up at Travis who is just staring at the popped balloon.

“That was just beginner’s luck,” I assure Travis, picking up another dart and trying to throw it at the wall a little higher than before, aiming for above the balloons.

It quickly curves down in the air and pops a blue balloon.

Honestly, I tried out for my high school’s baseball team and got laughed off the diamond. If it wasn’t so inappropriate I would have Travis take a video so I could post it on my Facebook page. That would show Shannon Winters and all her baseball friends.