The doorbell rang just as Theresa was dumping the last of the Frosted Flakes in to a bowl. She set the empty box carefully in the trash and made her way to the door.

Somehow, even though it had been a long time since she'd seen the sight, she wasn't surprised at all to see Ryan standing there, dressed for the heat in a blue "Allen and Sons" t-shirt with chopped-off sleeves. After all, he turned up everywhere else now except for her house, and he used to turn up here. It made as much sense as anything else did these days. She hesitated behind the screen door.

"Ryan Atwood. So it is the front door now, then."

He shrugged. "If your mom doesn't care…" He looked flushed and was breathing a little too heavy.

"What's up?" The words were harsher than she expected. She swallowed a little, suddenly feeling ashamed.

"Nothin'… I was just wondering if you were workin' today?"

"Why?"

He poked his head in. "Arturo around?"

"No, he's out. With Eddie."

"Oh." He glanced back around at the street. "Cause I'm bored."

He didn't look bored, he looked like he was upset and trying to cover it. She sighed. There was no point in asking, he would never answer, and she might as well indulge his denial. It was either this or watch Saturday morning cartoons alone. And cartoons sounded mighty good right now. But it was Ryan, and she couldn't help it. "Fine." She stepped aside and he wandered in.

"You eat yet?"

"No, uh-" He blinked. "I kind of, uh, rushed out today."

"Oh." She motioned over her shoulder. "I was gonna have some cereal."

"Okay. Can I steal some?"

"Sure, but I want it back."

He squinted at her. "You're not funny."

"Yeah, and you're a cereal thief. Just remember, I know where you live."

He followed her in to the kitchen where she retrieved the milk. Ryan went straight for the cupboard for a bowl, and the box of Cap'n Crunch as well.

"Hey," he said as they settled on the carpet in the living room in front of SpongeBob Squarepants. "Know what we haven't done in awhile?"

"Uh. What?" She could think of quite a few things, actually.

"Gone to the carnival. It's set up today over at the old Home Depot parking lot. Wanna go?"

She blinked. She hadn't expected him to actually suggest plans. An outing. For the two of them. It seemed oddly anachronistic. And wrong. She was always the one to drag him places, make him do things, try to get him to stop brooding. Which was why she'd given it up in the first place.

"Do you?"

He shrugged. "Kind of. I guess."

She shoveled another bite of Frosted Flakes in to her mouth before saying, around the mouthful of cereal, "So you really are bored today."

"We used to hang out all the time, you know."

"Did we. Really." She couldn't help the dry sarcasm.

"Yeah. And lately it's like you're always busy, and I'm always busy, and we just never do stuff anymore. I mean, just us."

"I hadn't noticed."

He shot her a sideways glance. "Are you makin' fun of me?"

"Do I ever make fun of you?"

Now he rolled his eyes. "So are we gonna go out or what?"

Theresa mouthed her spoon thoughtfully. "Growing up sucks."

Ryan shrugged, and seemed to agree.

They polished off the cereal and he waited impatiently in the living room with SpongeBob while Theresa tried to hastily arrange her hair in butterfly clips and chose the quickest outfit she could grab, a denim skirt and button-down yellow blouse. She'd bought the whole thing at Wal-Mart last summer. She felt like a schoolgirl in it. But that was okay. For today.

"Why do girls take so long to get ready?" Ryan grumbled as she grabbed for her wallet and keys.

"Why do boys never bother?" she countered. "Hang on, are we biking?"

"I wasn't thinking of walking," he said crossly.

"Wait." She ran back to her room for a pair of biker shorts to put on under the skirt. She could hear Ryan impatiently tapping his foot in the hallway as she changed, and she had to smile to herself.

"You try riding a bike with nothing but a thong up your crotch," she said as she made her way out of the room.

"I'll keep that in mind."

She stuck her tongue out at him for lack of a better response and followed him out of the house, locking it behind her.

"What was that about growing up?" he asked, puzzled. "Cause if I didn't know any better-"

"Fuck you, Atwood."

They set off for Home Depot and she led the way, listening at every turn for the sound of his bike squeaking after her, stealing glances behind to make sure he was still there. For some reason she had the oddest sense that if she didn't keep watching, if she didn't make sure he was always behind her, that he would disappear.

They chained their bikes to a fence at the edge of the parking lot and started across. Something jumped out at Theresa from across the parking lot, a truck, slightly higher than the cars parked around it. Eddie's truck. She'd recognize it anywhere. She stopped, suddenly and surprisingly afraid.

"C'mon," Ryan said impatiently. "They're gonna run out of funnel cakes if you don't hurry up."

Ryan. Right. He hadn't noticed it. "You just had Cap'n Crunch for breakfast. How could you possibly want more sugar so soon?"

"Cause it's funnel cakes," he said, as if that explained it all.

She shook her head, and trotted after him, trying to force herself to forget about Eddie's truck. Trying to force herself to forget about Eddie.

It was easy, really. Forgetting about Eddie. Especially when Ryan was around. Together, they studied the entrance to the fair, with the fat guy waddling over a stool taking money.

"Five bucks just to enter?" Ryan asked, dejected.

She shook her head. "I got you covered, don't worry." All his money probably was going to his mom and A.J. these days. She had a strong feeling.

"No," he sighed. "Don't do that. We'll sneak in. Or somethin'."

"I thought you were the moral upstanding one here. I seem to recall something about a magazine? Look-" She was about to try to justify it somehow, either because she had invited him, or because of her gender, but none of it actually made sense. She fell silent.

"C'mon." He motioned towards the old Home Depot store, and she followed him along the long chain-link fence that bordered the carnival. She stared through the fence to the ferris wheel, rising up gleefully above the crowd. Children tearing away from their parents screaming. Food dropping to the ground left and right, and birds circling, waiting for their chance to benefit. Her eyes landed on a young couple walking along, a girl she knew from school, one of the chunky-thigh set, with a boy dressed in baggy jeans and a wifebeater and a gold chain necklace, trying to look tough. They stopped behind the goldfish throw to turn and enjoy a deep, long kiss. Theresa looked away.

"There's gotta be some way to do this." Ryan wrinkled his nose at the fence, stretched out before them. "We did it last time, remember?"

"That was a long time ago, and the fair was at the mall then. C'mon." Theresa motioned for him to follow her. They scrambled along the fence, smelling the exhaust from the motors mingling with the scent of greasy carnival food. The ass-end of the fairground, Theresa thought to herself wryly.

She stopped suddenly in her tracks. "Oh, they did bring the pirate ship ride this year!" She pointed at the ride carrying passengers high over the crowed. "Yeah! What do you think?"

Ryan eyed it critically. "Yeah. I don't think so."

"Not this year?"

"Try not ever. Are you kidding, have you read the stories about all the people dying on those things? I don't plan on dying today."

"But it's so much fun – the adrenaline..." He tripped along, shaking his head at her. "The rush of energy... the look of utter terror on your face."

"Very funny."

"I'm just sayin' is all."

"I am not going on that thing. Forget it."

"For me?" She cocked her head at him hopefully.

"Uh, how about no?"

"Cause I do think it's funny to see you flip out."

"Theresa."

"Suit yourself." She shook her head as he stumbled on a rock. "Hey. Y'okay?"

"My knee." He straightened up, flexing it out. "I'm fine."

"You always recover in, like, two seconds," she said with disdain.

He grinned. "Cause I'm tough, that's why."

"Bullshit. I've seen you bawling like a baby." They rounded a corner. "Shit."

"What?"

"We're not sneaking in. Look. They're totally secure this year. Fuck!" She leaned against the fence and reached in her purse for her cigarettes.

Ryan halted and doubled back to join her. He entwined his fingers in the fence as she pulled out the pack and offered him one. He took it with his free hand and waited for her to juggle purse, pack, lighter and her own cigarette so that she could light his.

"Hey," he said, glancing over her shoulder. "It's Eddie and your brother! We could get their tickets and use 'em to get in-"

The relaxed smile on Theresa's face froze suddenly. "No..."

"No?" He took a drag on his cigarette and released the fence, stepping back to take a look at her.

"No – I'll just pay for you. Whatever. It's fine."

"Theresa, don't-"

"Win me something. We'll call it even."

He shrugged. "You sure?"

"Yeah. Totally."

"Okay then."

They made their way back around the perimeter of the carnival. She found herself shooting furtive glances for Eddie. Much as she didn't want Ryan to know they were involved, she especially felt Eddie wouldn't take well to her showing up with Ryan now...

It was too much for her to process. She couldn't handle this. Secrets, and lies, and-

"That'll be ten dollars, miss."

The fat, greasy ticket-taker didn't even look at her as she parted with the cash and received their two tickets in turn.

"Let's go find the guys," Ryan said as they moved to the ticket booth to purchase ticket books.

Theresa hesitated. She glanced around for excuses, feeling somehow frantic. "Wait! Let's get funnel cakes."

"Now?"

"Aren't you hungry?"

"I was, before you started making me think of heights. Hey." His eyes lit up. "Frogs!"

That worked, too. Ticket books in hand, they each took a spot before a water gun pistol.

"Winner every game, every game! Someone here will win a prize, and it could be you, yes, it could be you!"

Theresa handed her coupons over to the barker and felt for her gun. It was loose. An idea struck her and she shot Ryan a smirk.

"You are so dead," he threatened as the last of the pistols was claimed.

"Am I?" She cocked her rotating water pistol into position.

"Two... one! Go!"

She pulled back and aimed for the mouth of her frog. As the spray of water hit his mouth, her tadpole wiggled slowly upwards, inching towards the finish line.

The other players were yelling and cheering. "Go! Yeah! No! Damn frog! C'mon! Faster!"

But when she glanced to the side she saw that Ryan was silent, set with a slight underbite, eyes fixed on his target, aiming, steady. She hadn't seen that look since that night in the field, pummeling and attacking...

She did the only thing she could think of to do as his tadpole neared the finish line, and turned her pistol to soak Ryan squarely in the arm with her last burst of water as the game died.

"Ow! What the-"

"We have a winner!" The barker's eyes settled on Ryan. "Miss! Hey! You can't do that!"

Ryan clapped his wet arm as the winner, a ten-year-old kid on his other side, eagerly pointed to the inflatable guitar he wanted as his prize.

"Hey! I almost had that!"

"But you weren't having fun."

They drifted away as the annoyed barker studied Theresa's loose frog to see if it was fixable.

He wrinkled his nose, clearly at a loss for a comeback. "Hey, balloon darts? And no hitting me this time. I might actually win you something like I said I would." He paused. "And I promise. I'll have fun."

They moved towards the counter and he traded his tickets for a handful of darts. As he aimed the first one, Theresa thought she saw the back of Eddie's head, moving for the exit. She rose up slightly on her toes to check and there was Arturo, bobbling slightly lower, following Eddie out of the gate. She breathed a quiet sigh of relief as she settled back on her heels, clutching the counter as she leaned back.

"Damn!" Ryan had missed. She turned to watch. He took a step back, his face twisted in self-loathing as the attendant went to retrieve his missile from where it had hit empty corkboard.

The guy moved aside and Theresa held her breath, her fingers dancing lightly on the counter, as Ryan aimed again. He was careful this time, his nostrils flaring, and he sailed the dart straight into the corkboard a second time.

She released her breath.

"One more chance, my friend, you can still do it," the bored attendant droled.

Ryan shook his head at the ground, stomping his feet on the asphalt.

"Hey." She took his dry arm to calm him. He turned up to her abruptly. The touch had startled them both.

"Uh – sorry."

"No-"

She dropped her hand. "But you can do this."

He nodded with new resolve and turned back to the game. She reached up self-consciously to tuck her hair back, not sure what else to do with her hands-

-Pop!-

Ryan gripped the table and leaned back. He still didn't look happy, only grimly satisfied, she noticed.

"Any prize in the red bucket, Ace."

Ryan nudged Theresa. "Hey. Your pick. I said."

The cheap bucket. A rubber dinosaur... cardboard airplane... a large rubber ball...

The rings were kind of cool, and after a moment she pointed to a purple metallic one with silver diamonds patterned around. The bored attendant fished it out and passed it to her, avoiding eye contact. That didn't matter.

She tried to slip it on to her ring finger, but it balked at the second knuckle. She grimaced at her own fat fingers before sliding it on to her pinky and proudly holding it up for Ryan. "See?"

"Yeah, nice," he said, in that neutral I-have-no-idea voice.

"You lied, you know," she said, lowering her voice and leaning in.

"What? When?"

"That wasn't fun. You weren't having fun."

He rolled his eyes. "What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to eat a funnel cake."

Now he laughed. A little. "Fine."

"'Fine' my ass. You're gonna have fun. If it kills us both."

"It just might."

She laughed now. "You!"

"'Me' nothing. Are we eating or what?"

She shook her head and followed Ryan through the crowd for the funnel cake cart. Maybe she was having fun. Just a little. Even if he wasn't.