And why couldn’t she remember her fucking favorite color?
Panic. That’s why. It’s just panic. When you calm down, you’ll remember. They’re just inside your head, messing with you.
“Cora! There you are.”
At least that was a voice she recognized. Looking up, she saw Trent and Emily. Relief welled in her. She smiled weakly. “Hey, guys.”
“What the hell happened to you?” Trent furrowed his brow. He was dressed perfectly, like he always was. His blond hair was carefully done to look messy, even though she was sure he spent an hour working on making it sit just so. She never thought a guy could pull off skinny jeans until she met him. He had a casual flair, even if he was perfectly dressed. He turned heads of both genders and was proud of it. “You look like you’re gonna throw up.”
Cora and Trent had been friends since early grade school. He got picked on a lot for being “the weird little gay kid,” and she was considered an outcast for reading as much as she did. So, they became fast friends and had been close ever since.
“I don’t know. I might hurl. Did you guys go through the freaky tunnel?” She pointed at the exit to whatever the hell she just walked out of.
“Huh? No.” He shrugged. “They said we weren’t allowed in. Said it was for ‘the special ones,’ whatever the fuck that means. Did you go through it?”
“Yeah…”
“Was it fun?” Emily smiled and tucked her hands into her oversized coat’s pockets. She was a mousy creature. Amazingly intelligent, but too shy to do much with it. She was terrible at advocating for herself, and she liked to blend in as much as possible. Her dark hair was cropped short. She was very pretty, but always tried to hide it. She and Trent couldn’t have been less alike. “Must have been something good if you’re all freaked out. What was in there?”
“No, it was shit. And I don’t even know if I can explain it. It was awful, and I don’t recommend going through there if they offer. I think there was a guy in there trying to feel me up.” Cora shook her head and stood.
“And you didn’t take him up on the offer?” Trent groaned. “C’mon, Cora! You had your chance after all this time, and you said no?”
“I’m not gonna let some guy I don’t know cop a feel in a pitch-black room.” Cora glared at Trent.
“Psh. This is why you have less fun than me.” He cracked a lopsided grin. “Just saying.”
“Uh-huh. Sure.” She shoved her phone back into her coat pocket. It was early spring, so there was still a bit of a chill in the air at night. “Let’s just go. I want to forget about it.”
“I wanna see the freaks.” Emily shoved Trent’s arm playfully. “I didn’t think they were allowed to have freakshows anymore. I thought it wasn’t P.C.”
“Maybe they want to be there, so it’s okay,” Trent replied as the three of them headed off into the park. Well. They walked, and she limped. “I’d rather do the rides and then go see the strongman.”
“I think you mean see the rides and do the strongman,” Cora teased with a grin. “You just want to drool over some big, buff, half-naked guy.” She smiled, trying to brush off all the weirdness that had just happened. It was all a trick. It was all just a clever setup. Some interactive theatre, modern-art bullshit. Now she had to put it behind her. There was funnel cake somewhere that needed to be eaten, after all.
“Guilty as charged. Besides, don’t you? C’mon, Cora—you’ve been single for what…five years now?”
“Yeah, don’t remind me.” She shot Trent a look. It wasn’t a topic she liked to talk about. Her relationship with her ex hadn’t ended well, to say the least.
“Look, I’m not saying you have to date him. I’m just saying you probably want to ogle a big, buff pile of man-meat just as much as I do.” Trent slung an arm around her shoulder and hugged her to his side, making her laugh. “Did you see the poster? C’mon.”
“You realize the guy probably looks nothing like that,” Emily chimed in.
Sensing victory, Trent went in for the kill. “Well, there’s only one way to find out. I say we go howl at some sexy guy bending rebar around his neck.” He was beaming. “Maybe he’ll pick me up and hold me over his head.”
“You’re just hoping he picks you up, period.” Cora rolled her eyes. Trent had always been a bit of a player—heading to Portland on the weekends to hit up the clubs. He was always begging Cora to go with him. After his constant pestering, she finally gave in. Once. And only once. She had stood there like an idiot and never went again. Emily went along frequently.
She couldn’t imagine her mousy friend sitting in the corner of a dark bar, listening to the deafening music and watching as Trent flirted with everything that moved.
Honestly, she didn’t know why Emily did it to herself. It was clear she was madly in love with Trent and had been since they were kids. But she was a grown adult, and she could make her own mistakes.
Lisa was the only one who had managed to find someone and pin them to the ground. Her husband Robert was a nice guy but never seemed to want to go out with them. And because of that, it meant that Lisa rarely went out either. Parental life seemed like a special level of Hell that Cora wanted nothing to do with.
“You hurt yourself again, Cor?” Trent asked, his brow furrowed in concern.
“Of course. Doesn’t take much.” She tried not to sound bitter about it. She shrugged and settled for sounding matter-of-fact. “I tripped over something in the dark tunnel thing and knocked my ankle out of whack.” No way in hell am I admitting I was running away. “But I wouldn’t mind sitting to watch a show. Let’s grab some food and go see the silly strongman act.”
“Sounds good, and—oh! Candy apples!” Trent abandoned her side to take an abrupt right turn. He was like a human raccoon. Any shiny object, and he was off like a rocket.
Emily and Cora laughed together, shaking their heads and walking after their friend. He was always a handful, and that was why they both loved him, if in different ways.
She limped along, and Emily slowed to fall in next to her. She knew it wasn’t fun for her friends to put up with someone who was always injured. But there wasn’t anything she could do about it.
If it wasn’t her ankles, it was her knees. If it wasn’t her knees, it was her hips. If it wasn’t those, it was her wrists or her shoulders. They were always floating. Her tendons just couldn’t do their fucking jobs for ten minutes. It was one thing, after another, after another.
“I can take it all away. All your pain. All your suffering. You can wake up tomorrow without any of it.” That was what the creep had said. But he was lying. It was a trick. He wanted to sell her drugs, at best. At worst, he wanted to trade her something awful for said drugs.
“I’m sorry, Cor,” Emily said gently, smiling in that sympathetic way a person used when they felt bad, but didn’t quite understand. Chronic pain wasn’t something people could really wrap their heads around unless they actually experienced it.
“It’s fine. It is what it is.” Most of all, Cora hated being the weak link. It wasn’t her fault, but it didn’t stop her from feeling guilty.