This idea came to me whilst I was at the highest point on the Ferris Wheel last Thursday at the county fair. Because we came with an uneven number of people, I offered to ride by myself. This was stupid; incredibly stupid because the moment the giant wheel stopped to load more people and I was stuck at the top, I had nothing better to do than observe how high up I was. I panicked. Kinda. I'm not necessarily afraid of heights, I'm actually really good with them, but I was all alone and tons of thoughts were running through my mind about various ways the Ferris Wheel could break and I would die. Needless to say, I started sprouting story ideas to distract me and this is what came of it. Enjoy my literature friends.

P.S. This story is so much longer than I had originally anticipated. I expected no more than eight or nine chapters and here we are twnety, and going strong. :]

Two weeks had passed and Halloween was only three nights away. This year it would fall on a Sunday, giving the trick-or-treaters a very slim time frame to go about there traditional Halloween outings before their parents would beckon them home for school the following day. That, however, would be dealt with later. Right now, I had happier things to concern my thoughts. Happier things like the annual Harvest Carnival and Fair. Every year for the last two weeks in October the giant field behind the high school's football stadium was taken over and turned into the grandest fair grounds ever to be seen. They had rides like the Ferris Wheel and the Yo-yo; they had games like dunking and darts; they had food like cotton candy and hot dogs; they had haunted houses and corn mazes; and more importantly, it was all free if you were in school. Yep, one-hundred percent free. It was the states way of congratulating kids who hadn't dropped out of school yet. All you had to do was tell them your name and what school you were currently enrolled in, and bingo! A free ticket in.

"You're cake is gonna do fine, momma," I encouraged her. She was making a fuss over the other cakes entered in the bake-off, gushing over the details and designs. But those were just for show, what really mattered was the taste. And no one could bake a cake like my mother. Turning from my frantic parent, I allowed my eyes to scan the throng of people. There had to be over a hundred people here already. That was saying something considering the carnival had opened a mere twenty minutes ago. Suddenly, a head full of floppy brown hair caught my eye. "Mom, there's Teddy, can I go now?"

"What?" she was snapped from her breakdown. Fumbling for a moment, she seemed to grasp what I'd said. "Oh, yes dear, just remember the contest judging starts at nine. You're father will meet you right here, okay?"

"Yes ma'am." With that, I pivoting and disappeared in the crowd. I maneuvered in and out, trying not to bump into too many people. Finally, I skidded to a stop right into front of the fast-ball game. "Hey, Duchamp, gonna practice your aim?"

"Hiya, Danni," he spoke not taking his eyes off the giant bull's eye ten feet away. "Aim ain't got nothing to do with it, it's how fast you can pitch."

"Ah, good, because I was going to suggest you play another game if sight is required." Teddy shot me a glare, but was concentrating too hard to really care. Winding up, he drew back, and released. The baseball hit the third ring on the bull's eyes, colliding with a thunderous bang.

"Sixty-two miles per hour," he pubescent boy working the booth announced. Reaching up, he plucked down a Mighty Mouse plushy and handed it to Teddy. Duchamp stared down at it, blinking rapidly, before looking up at the guy and muttering, sarcastically, "Gee, thanks." He turned away and walked off, motioning for me to follow. "Here, Danni, want it?"

"Sure," I shrugged, taking the stuffed animal from him. "I thought Vern was coming with you?"

"He was but his mom wanted them to come as a family."

"I wonder how Billy feels about that." My glasses wearing friend grinned at me, "Yeah. Me too. Where're Christopher and Gordie?"

"No idea. Looks like it's just you and me, army boy."

Teddy's smile grew, his expression devilish, "Imagine the hell we could raise before they got here."

"It would be a riot, no doubt!" I sing-songed, playing along.

"A regular demonstration of civil disobedience!"

"We'd be exiled! Doomed to find another place of shelter!"

"Oh the rebellion!" Teddy cackled madly, my laughter echoing quietly behind his. We stopped in the midst of all the townspeople, grinning and laughing like a couple of insane lunatics. When our giggles finally subsided, a large spinning wheel caught my eye. Taking Teddy's arm, I dragged him after me, "Come on."

"Where are we going?"

"To the Ferris Wheel!" From the highest point on the Ferris Wheel you could see the entire fair, the high school campus, and the neighboring streets. Beside me, on the tiny bench of a seat, Teddy took off his glasses, cleaning the lens. "Careful, Teddy. Don't drop those."

"I won't, I won't," he mumbled. Violently, he shoved the flimsy glasses back onto his face. Teddy arranged them high on the bridge of his nose. My dorky friend peered all around us, his gaze goofy and childish, "This is boss."

"So boss," I agreed, following his stare. All the lights shimmered below us, dozens upon dozens of people weaving in and around them all. We could hear the live band playing, the laughter and chatter, the bings and ticks of games, all the noises of the festival. Smiling at each other, I took a deep breath of the chilly air, "We are so high."

"Eh," Teddy shrugged. "I've been higher."

I snorted, "I meant in height."

"Oh, that too." Once our cold, but exciting ride on the Ferris Wheel, my crazy friend dragged me over to the Fun Slide. The Fun Slide was a forty foot long, bumpy slide that stood about thirty feet off the ground. Then, we played a dunking game and went to a few ring tosses. We stopped to listen to the band but quickly tired of the same band-stand music. Finally, we bought some cotton candy and decided to slow down a bit, stopping at the petting zoo. Though smelly rabbits, llamas, ponies, peacocks, and other various animals didn't suit my nature much, we figured it was a decent way to pass the time while waiting on the other boys to arrive.

"Are donkeys normally that emotionally fragile?!" Teddy wheezed. He had just spent the pass twenty minutes being chased by an anal donkey. Why was said donkey upset? Duchamp decided it wouldn't mind getting it's tail pulled repeatedly. Duchamp was wrong.

"What can I say Teddy? You just bring out that side of people." Then, I quickly added, "Er, animals too, apparently."

"Hey, there they are!" Teddy suddenly stopped, raised his arm, and pointed passed me. Sure enough, Gordie and Chris was strolling by the ticket gate, chatting and smiling. Chris's face had healed quite nicely; only the faint trace of bruises around his eyes and a tiny cut on his chin remained. However, his still-cast arm was a dead give away. "Come on," Teddy jumped up and motioned for me to follow. Snatching up the cotton candy, I chased after him, much like the donkey did moments ago. Ducking and weaving between the crowd we came to a sudden stop, mere inches from the duo.

"Hey guys," Gordon smiled, his eyes shining brightly as he peered anxiously around us. For the first time in a while, Gordie actually looked like a normal kid. He looked happy and hopeful. Chris, who slung an arm around my shoulders, pecked the side of my head, "Have you been here long?"

"About an hour, give or take," I shrugged. "You know my mother, she had to get here early and observe the competition."

"Hmmm, when is her cake gonna be judged?" Lachance grinned. I gave a playful eye roll, "We can't eat it, Gordo. Only the judges can."

"Well can we get something to eat? I'm starving."

"Here," I passed him the cotton candy. "Now, are boys ready to ride some rides?"

Together, they grinned their boyish smiles and nodded, "Hell yeah."

We spend the next two hours riding and doing everything possible: we rode the Gravitron, a space-shift shaped ride that spins you so fast you can't move; we played catch the duck, a game where you try to grab a duck with a fishing pole and win a prize depending on how long it took you; we rode the Yo-yo, the spiniest, tripiest ride there; we ate dinner, hot dogs and funnel cakes; I got my face painted; Teddy and Gordie got temporary tattoos; we watched part of the car show; we went in the haunted house and the hall of mirrors; we watched the fireworks; we rode the Ferris Wheel again; we rode the Crazy Shake, a sort of racing game that has no track; we rode the Tilt-a-Whirl; Chris and Gordie played darts, and Chris won me a stuffed bear to go with Teddy's Mighty Mouse; we all played the bean toss and the bowling game; and finally, we stopped and bought nachos and popcorn before making our way to the bake off stand. We joined my father and waited while the cakes were being judged.

"You made it here just in time," my father whispered to us. "I thought you're mother would explode if I didn't find you soon."

The small crowd that gathered to observe the great cake debacle, were silent. You could hear the people around you breathing, that's how quiet it was. Everyone was stiff with anticipation, and even Teddy, the one-boy-wonder, realized not to speak. My eyes scanned the table's length, searching for my mother. She was at the end, between Mrs. Hamilton and Ms. Porter, both older women. Her number, brightly pinned against her shirt, was fifty-four.

The judges moved back and forth along the table numerous times. It was all taking a bit too long, and I was ready to leave. However, I knew it meant a lot to my mother so I shrunk down in my seat and crossed my legs from the cold. Chris sent me a haughty grin and he battled Lachance in thumb-war. Glaring at him, I glanced around, looking for entertainment. Across the fairgrounds, a familiar head caught my eye. Ace Merrill. A chill shot down my spine. Ace Merrill, though familiar, was not a pleasant sight. Straightening up, I ran my hand over Christopher's shoulder, nodding in Ace's direction. Chris, curious, followed my gaze. Then, he instantly tensed. He nudged our two friends and soon, we were all shrinking in our seats.

"Crap," Lachance muttered. "Why do they have to ruin everything?"

"Because they're pathetic…and gross," I offered. Between our seats, Chambers took my hand, rubbing small circles on my palm. "We can ju-" but Teddy was cut off by the sudden speaking of the head judge, Mr. Brigs. He was rambling on about how each cake was great and beautiful and amazing and bogus hype like that. My father inclined forward, rising in his seat. Finally, he got to it, "It gives me great pleasure to announce this year's winners. For third place, the blue ribbon goes to…number twenty-three!"

Mrs. Hardwick, a younger woman, about five years younger than my mother, stepped forward, beaming from ear to ear. She accepted her ribbon, which another judge pinned to her cardigan. Then slipped back to her place behind her award-winning cake. Mr. Brigs continued, "For second place, the bronze ribbon goes to…number fifty-four!"

"What?!" Teddy screamed.

"Oh come on!" Gordie echoed behind him. Giggling, I shushed them; Chris also chiding them for their outburst. Though me mother gracefully accepted her bronze, second placed ribbon, I could tell she wasn't pleased. These past two ears she'd come in first; it had become sort of a tradition for her. She was obviously disappointed as she returned to her stand. My father frown, but spoke optimistically, "Well, now at least someone else will have a chance. I'm sure they are all lovely cakes."

"And for the first place, gold ribbon! The winner of this year's Harvest Carnival and Fair bake off goes to…number fifty-four! Wait, number fifty-four...? Ladies and gentlemen it seems that number fifty-four has placed twice! Congratulations!" Mr. Brigs grinned proudly, pinning the first place ribbon on my mother. She flashed the crowd a smile, her eyes landing on my father and I. We both smiled back, myself offering a small wave. Next to me, the boys whooped and whistle and dog-howled in approval and congratulations for mom. She didn't seem the slightest embarrassed, though the woman in front of us shifted awkwardly in their seats.

We stayed behind while everyone cleared out their cakes and the last of the gossip people frayed away, to congratulate mother properly. After doing so, we realized Vern had arrived and had been sitting three rows behind us the whole time. We walked over and chatted with him while my parents too talked. Apparently, Billy had gotten into a fight with their father over the girl he was seeing. Some Carmie girl, or what have you. So they were late in their departure.

"Dad flipped! Completely! You wouldn't believe it," Vern mumbled on speedily. "It was so boss. I just knew Billy was dead. I knew it!"

My four friends were mumbling on excitedly, and though I tried to pay attention, I felt an unhealthy feeling rumbling in my stomach. Perhaps I had eaten too much to be riding a bunch of carnival rides? But something told me these feelings weren't from nausea. Peering around, I looked for the Cobras, a sure sign of trouble. An even worse sign of trouble: they were no where in sight. This could only mean one thing, because there is no way they left already, they were up to no good. Numbly, I glanced around. I was really beginning to get worried when Chris suddenly caressed my side, "Danni, what's wrong?"

"Where are they?"

"Who?"

"Them. The Cobras. I saw Ace. They must be here-"

"Danni, its fine. They're probably off pissing on someone's car of something. Hey," he caught my chin. "Calm down, okay? They aren't going to mess with you. You're fine."

"It's not me I'm worried about," I mumbled, jerking my eyes toward Gordie. Chris seemed to understand. "Maybe we should leave."

"But…isn't that like letting them win? I know I sound hypocritical, but I don't just want to leave and let them run us out like that. It's…" I huffed, lifting a hand to run through my hair. "I hate them. I really do."

"Me too," Chris whispered softly. Leaning down, he ran his lips across mine. "They'll leave us alone eventually."

"How long is eventually?" I murmured against his cheek. The young, blonde Chambers pulled me into his side and together we stood, with our friends, trying to enjoy ourselves. We stayed at the fair for another forty minutes or so, riding a few more rides, playing a few more games, and getting Vern to get a tiger's face painted on him, before we all split and headed home. Just as I was exiting the gates, slowly trudging along after my parents, a hand caught my arm. I froze, praying mentally for that hand not to belong to a one, Ace Merrill. Thankfully, God is merciful, and when I turned, I was faced with a beautiful blonde, not an evil one. Chris grinned at me, crashing his lips down onto mine. His hand shot up, gripping the back of my neck. I could feel myself blushing, everyone's stares on us. But I found I didn't care, and I kissed him back. When we broke, he shot me a wolfish smile, "I love you."

"I know," I smirked. "How could you not?"

Pecking his lips once more, I spoke, "I love you too, Chambers."