Kieron leans over the handlebars of his mountain-bike as he waits on the gravel shoulder by the side of the road. He listens to the zipper-buzz of the grasshoppers hidden amongst the tall grass. It’s a dry and dusty day, the long, hot summer taking its toll on the trees and grass. Every so often, a car drives by kicking up a grainy, brown mist around him. He doesn’t pay much attention to it.

Patiently he waits. He can wait all day, under the heat of the sun and amongst the dusty, dry air, because he is waiting for her.

Emma comes out from the back of Swirlies, the roadside frozen custard shop just outside of town. She’s been working there for the last three summers since she turned fourteen. Mr. Stanley follows her out; he appears like he’s trying to push a smile onto his sullen soft, doughy face.

“Well, Emma,” he breathes, “What can I say? It’s been a pleasure.”

“Thanks, Mr. Stanley,” Emma replies as she removes her Swirlies apron. “It’s been awesome.”

“I'll miss your spunk, let me tell you,” Mr.Stanley sighs, “Who's going to deal with those late-night road-racing yahoos from now on?”

Emma winks. “Just give them a bit more hot fudge on their sundaes. They’ll be fine.”

As she hands him the apron, he passes her back an envelope. “Threw in a little something extra,” he says.

She smiles and nods as she looks towards the ground, her lips stretched tight. Kieron can tell that she’s touched by the gesture but she would never show a crack in her sassy veneer to Mr. Stanley.

As he hugs her, he says, “You take care of yourself.”

Emma replies, “You too.” Then she grabs her bike leaning against the side of the shop and walks away without looking back.

“Hey Em,” Kieron says with a nod.

Emma hops onto her bike. As she pedals past him, she says, “Let’s go.”

Kieron spins his bike around and follows her.

She raises herself off the bike seat as she pedals, faster and faster. Her jean-shorts are hacked off practically to the under-seam allowing her long, white legs to pump with power and fluidity. Kieron instantly regrets wearing full-length denims. It’s a challenge to keep up with her, but he pedals hard so that he could ride by her side.

Emma turns to him, her ruby lips stretched into a playful smile, her translucent green eyes pinching. She opens into a gleeful laugh, turning her face to the sun and the sky, the light strands of her cinnamon bob fluttering about, then leans forward and pulls away.

Kieron grimaces, grits his teeth, and chases after her.

Within a few minutes, they have reached the town. They slow down as they pass through. They ride by the convenience store --no green apple slushies today-- and Mitzi’s Café. Kieron notices Emma’s head turn as they pass by, a regretful expression on her face. She would love to have one of their pecan danishes, but Mitzi’s isn’t open on a Sunday.

Kieron’s own sights stray as they round a corner and bike past an auto-shop. His thoughts linger on a twelve-year old coupe parked in front of the garage, “$1500” scrawled on the windshield. Before the summer, he had thought for sure he would have been driving around town in it, Emma riding shotgun.

It wasn’t meant to be.

They stop by the movie theatre when they spot a couple of Emma’s girlfriends standing outside, deciding on which of the two films to see.

Emma advocates for the thriller, but then shrugs and laughs, “If you show Morris a little cleavage, he’ll let you into the second movie after, anyway.”

Kieron grins and rolls his eyes. He thinks if the girls showed Morris their toes he’d let them sneak in for free. He was a piss poor theatre attendant.

As the girls continue to chat, he reminisces fondly about the theatre, specifically an evening at the beginning of the summer; his first date with Emma. Was it a date though? Does being together as part of a group of friends count as a date? She had sat beside him, shared his popcorn, sipped from his straw when she had finished her own drink, and never moved her arm from the armrest even as he pressed his against hers for the entire second half of the film.

It was a date, he decides.

After a few minutes, each girl hugs Emma before she and Kieron continue their ride through town.

They cycle around the town square, past the large, gazebo where the high school students would hang out after classes. This was where their classmate Doug Furlong, during a late night group party in the square, cupped his beefy hand around Emma’s ass. Many guys had imagined the sensation of her tempting bottom sliding along their sweaty palms. It took a moment of beer-induced courage and impulsive stupidity for the school football team’s left tackle to actually go for it. Guys weren’t sure if they were supposed to be impressed or envious.

Beside the gazebo is the fountain…where Doug had found himself floundering in the water after Emma flipped him into it a few seconds after his unwanted grope. Kieron had stood back enjoying the moment. He always knew Emma could take care of herself.

As they breeze through the neighbourhoods, they first pass the elementary school playground. Past the sandpit, where they had first met but played separately when each thought it was too “icky” for boys and girls to get along, then the old monkey bars, where they had discovered a couple of years later that it wasn’t so bad to be friends with each other.

Further along the road, they cycle onto the grounds of their high school. They skirt along the school track-field and stop for a moment to remember when Emma, as graceful and as speedy as a gazelle, had won the regional gold medal for the 400 and 800 meter races the last two years.

Kieron can’t bear to look at the baseball field, though; his last throw from second to home plate during the championship game this past season is still a raw wound. It had been a perfect throw. Almost.

Three months later, Emma still shakes her head. “The ump blew the call,” she grumbles. She reaches over and pokes him in the arm. With an unwavering gaze, she insists, “He blew the fucking call.”

Kieron grins and sighs.

“Yeah. You were robbed,” she adds.

He suddenly feels like bricks have been moved off his chest.

Slowly they coast down the school’s driveway. She can’t help herself, turns her head and steals a glance toward the building.

“Hate it that you won’t be here for senior year,” Kieron offers.

Emma says nothing. Within moments, she’s pedaling again.

The two dodge and weave along the roads, chasing and tagging the other. Within minutes, they are on the outside of the town again, passing through rolling hills.

“Shortcut?” Emma shouts out.

Kieron cringes inwardly. It always jangles his nerves just thinking of 'the shortcut'. He takes one look at Emma, her smile bright, her eyes wide. There is no doubt in his voice. “Go!”

They turn their bikes sharply, blow past the shoulder of the road, and careen headlong into the trees and bush.

The ‘shortcut’ is barely a trail down a steep slope through the lush foliage. It’s rough and slippery and filled with endless twists. Tendrils of branches streak by within inches of clawing at their faces. Kieron grips his handlebars, feeling his wheels slide out to the left and then the right. His heart quickens and his breaths come in spurts and gasps. He clenches his teeth --hell, his whole body is clenched-- as he almost swerves into a ditch to avoid a rock along his path. He wonders if this is worth it, this false show of bravado.

“Yeah! Oh shit!” Emma laughs, relishing the thrill. She flaunts her exuberance, whooping and screaming through the forest.

Kieron thinks she’s insane, yet he’d follow her off a cliff if he could fly with her for a few seconds.

Faster they dive down the hill, bouncing, skidding. It goes on forever: trees and ditches and rocks. They’re going to be killed, Kieron is sure of it.

Like quail flushed from the tall grass, they shoot out from the trees at the bottom of the hill. They hammer their brakes, sliding across the grass and dirt of an open field. Kieron nearly spins into Emma but manages to stop, aligned almost perfectly beside her.

They look at each other, breathing hard, grinning stupidly as if they had just escaped a tornado.

“Oh my God! That rocked!” Emma declares.

“Holy crap!” Kieron sputters, half-chuckling, half-gasping for breath.

Emma swallows and nods. She cocks her brows and smiles sheepishly. “Well, this is why we have mountain bikes, right?”

Kieron shakes his head. “Never again.”

Her expression suddenly softens somewhat. She inhales deeply and sighs, “Yeah.”

They climb off their bikes and walk them through the grass of the field. A soft chime and hum of music calls to them in the distance and they stroll towards it. The music grows louder and as they approach it, the sounds of chatter and life mingle with it.

Soon Kieron and Emma walk up to the edge of the carnival, a county fair to celebrate the end of summer vacation. They set aside their bikes along a fence and enter, passing booths and tents.

The smells of buttery popcorn, salty hot dogs, and sugary confections whet their appetite. Kieron barely has to suggest getting candy floss before they are standing behind a tent, pinching and pulling at wads of the sweet, sticky blue cotton heaped like a volleyball on top of a paper cone. Emma giggles as she struggles with the strands that have melted and stuck to her fingers. Kieron watches as she licks them one-by-one. She pauses at her index finger, regarding it for a second, then she holds it in front of his face.

Kieron grins and frowns, wary but curious.

Emma’s finger remains extended. She gazes at him and cocks a thin brow with intent.

He hesitates, then, like a squirrel stealing a nut, he quickly leans forward and samples her finger with a swift lick of his tongue. The taste of the candy floss doesn’t even register, but he thinks he wouldn’t mind trying it again.

Instead, Emma places her finger in her mouth and cleans it off.

Kieron looks at his own thumb, coated in globs of the blue sugar. Before he realizes it, Emma takes him by the wrist and pulls up his hand. His mouth slips ajar but he doesn’t make a sound as he watches her swirl her pink tongue around his thumb before slipping it past her lips. A faint shudder swells in his gut as he feels the softest pressure on his digit when she presses her tongue on it and sucks gently. His thumb emerges from her mouth clean of the sugar, but slick and glossy with her saliva. He examines it as the girl giggles with her mouth closed and backs away around the corner of the tent.

They continue ambling through the fair, not saying much but always sharing warm smiles and easy glances. Their arms and the back of their hands touch and brush against one another constantly. It feels both nice and odd at the same time.

“Hey! Hey Red!” someone calls to them. They turn towards a guy standing by a pitching tent. He’s wearing a backwards ball-cap covering his slick and wiry dark hair and a denim shirt with the sleeves torn off exposing his brawny, tanned arms. With a baseball in his hand, he beckons them over…or more like he beckons Emma over. “Yeah, you Red. Don’t be shy. Come over here sweetheart.”

Emma crosses her arms as her jaw shifts to the side along with her hips.

Kieron eyes the man.

The carny smirks and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Bring your ‘pal’ along with you, too.” He waves them over again, points to all the stuffed toys jammed all over his booth, and says, “Come on. A girl like you should be walking around here with one of these under her arms, don’t you think?”

Emma and Kieron remain unmoved.

The carny pauses then shrugs indifferently. “Okay, whatever,” he sniffs, rolling the ball down his tattooed arm and popping it up at the bend of the elbow before catching it again. “Probably just a waste of money anyway if you can’t throw.”

He chucks the ball at a stack of wooden milk bottles, knocking them over.

“Alright,” Emma says.

“Atta girl,” the carny slurs as he rolls a toothpick in his mouth. His leer slinks up and down Emma's tall, toned frame as she approaches the booth.

“Just knock the bottles over and you can take your pick of anything you see, Red,” the carny continues, brushing his slick, black moustache with a finger. He takes a step back, putting on a tall, buff pose. “And I mean anything in my booth.”

Emma gives her head a little dismissive shake and asks “How much?”

“Three balls, three bucks,” the carny replies, holding out his palm.

Emma drops the cash on the booth's counter.

The carny grins and places three baseballs in front of her. He winks at her and says, “Good luck, sweetness.”

Kieron and the carny step back. Emma turns to the side and plants her feet apart, striking a fetching stance upon her svelte legs, staring down the forty foot stretch, narrowing her eyes on the milk bottles. She rolls the first ball in her hand before finding a grip.

“Don't strain yourself, red.” The carny chuckles to himself, bemused, while Kieron watches quietly, admiringly.

Emma winds up and throws, hurling a laser at the targets. The ball whizzes past to the left of the bottles and thumps against the canvas backstop.

“Ooh, so close, Red,” the carny says with a smirk.

“Almost, Em.” Kieron adds, “You've got this, no problem.”

Emma launches another ball at the targets. This time it flies over the top, missing by an inch.

“Nice throw,” the carny chuckles. He moves up close behind her and reaches for her waist. “You want me to help you adjust your position...”

Before Kieron can step forward, Emma turns, pierces the man with a harsh glare and says, “No.” Her voice is sharp yet calm, but her look tells the guy to “Fuck off” in no uncertain terms.

The carny backs up, his hands raised, still grinning like a letch. “Alright. Okay. Have at it, girl.”

Kieron grins to himself.

A second later, Emma throws her final ball. It crashes into the stack dead-center, scattering the milk bottles.

“Yes!” Emma shouts, her hands in the air as she jumps up.

“Alright!” Kieron yells. He gives her high fives when she's done bouncing on her toes.

She spins on her heels, points to the stuffed toys, and addresses the carny, “I want the polka-dot rabbit.”

The guy crosses his arms and shrugs. “Nope.”

A frown quickly drops over Emma's eyes. “What?”

“What do you mean, 'nope'?” Kieron snaps, seething at the carny.

The guy waggles a finger toward the target. “You have to clear all the little bottles off of the platform,” he says, pointing at the one bottle that didn't roll off the side. “Sorry, Red.”

“You just said to knock them over,” she fumes.

“Rules are rules,” the carny chuckles. He leans towards her and adds, “But I'd be happy to offer you a free ball, sweetheart.”

“I'll take three,” Kieron interjects, holding out a five dollar bill in the guy's face.

Emma turns and smiles.

“That'll be five bucks for three balls for you, pal,” the guy says with a sneer, snatching the bill from Kieron.

Kieron takes the first ball. As he winds up and throws, he grunts, “Only need one, asshole.”

The ball strikes the stack and the bottles fly about. The last one spins on the platform like a drunk at the wheel before finally tumbling off.

Emma jumps up and down again, clapping her hands. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

Kieron steps between her and the carny, suddenly realizing for the first time that he's actually just as tall as the guy. “Polka-dot rabbit,” he says with a curl on his upper lip.

The carny offers a scoffing snort but then just grabs the stuffed animal and hands it over without further retort.

As they walk away from the booth, Kieron passes the rabbit over to Emma. She holds it out in front of her as she walks, smiling like a five year old.

“Didn’t think you’d go for something so cute,” Kieron chides her.

“I like its dark brown eyes. They’re kind of sad but thoughtful,” she replies, tilting her head aside as she continues to regard it. She nudges her shoulder against Kieron. “Kind of like yours.”

Kieron stuffs his hands in his pockets, looking down at the grass and grinning. He nudges Emma back. “You’re right,” he says, “The ump blew the call.”

A little while later, as they're finishing their hotdog rolls and pink fizzy lemonade, they pass by more little tents and booths filled with people selling junky novelty items and offering more games of chance.

“Hey, look at that,” Emma says nodding toward a sign propped outside a small purple tent adorned with stars and moons: ‘Alannah: Fortune-Teller’. She looks at Kieron with an unexpected hopefulness in her eyes.

He can’t hide his scepticism however. “Looks pretty cheese-ball,” he grumbles.

“It’s supposed to be,” she chuckles. “C’mon, It’ll be stupid-fun.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Kieron replies.

“Why? You don't believe in fortune-tellers?” A woman asks as she suddenly emerges from the tent. Holding a shawl around her shoulders, wearing a long intricately patterned skirt, and large, golden hoop earrings that slip out from beneath a thick wave of raven hair that drops past her shoulders, she certainly plays up the appearance of a gypsy.

“Not really,” Kieron chuckles.

“That's too bad,” the woman says. She smiles and holds her palm up to his face like a mirror. “Such a lovely aura. I would very much like to read you.”

She speaks with a compelling accent and tone of voice, as if her tongue were coated with honey. Kieron feels unexpectedly uneasy and looks aside toward Emma; she's beaming.

“She wants to read me,” he says sceptically.

“You have to do this, Kieron,” Emma replies, shaking his arm.

The woman tilts her head and cocks her dark brow. “Five dollars for a few minutes? It's a token sum, but the pleasure would be mine.”

A five dollar bill instantly appears in Emma's hand.

“Em...” Kieron starts to protest.

“It's for the rabbit,” Emma insists. “And this will be fun!”

The woman takes the money and gestures towards the tent. “Please enter.”

“We do this in there?” Kieron asks, suspicious.

“How old are you?” the woman asks.

“Seventeen in September.”

She pulls open the tent flap and beckons him with her hand. “Then you may enter Alannah's tent.”

Emma and Kieron chuckle and shrug in unison. “Alright,” he sighs, shaking his head as he walks in.

When Emma approaches the tent, the woman steps in front of her. “I'm afraid only one may enter at a time.”

“Really? But I want to...”

The woman holds up a hand and shakes her head. “We cannot distract his aura,” she insists. She leans forward and almost whispers, “And it doesn't take a spiritualist to tell that you're a distraction to him, dear.”

Emma eases back. A tender blush sweeps across her cheeks, and it's not from the sun. After a moment, she looks over the shoulder of the woman and calls into the tent, “You're on your own. I don't want to distract your aura!”

Kieron turns and flashes an anxious look before the flaps close.

It's dark inside the tent, with only a few small, strategically placed lights casting a shadowy glow. The heavy tarp not only blocks out the light, it dulls the sounds of the carnival outside. A pleasant scent of flowery incense wafts through the air.

“Have a seat,” the woman Kieron presumes is 'Alannah' says.

Hesitating momentarily, he finally settles down onto a chair in front of a small table upon which a velvet cloth lies draped over some object.

Alannah walks around the table to the back of the tent and removes her shawl. Her hair is so black and dense that, when she turns, it appears as if her cotton-white face is floating in the darkness, grinning cherry-red lips and cat-like eyes centrepieces of her enchanting attractiveness. As she steps into the light and seats herself at the table across from Kieron, it's not her face that draws his attention, though. The removal of her shawl exposes a buxom, silky bosom burgeoning from the top of her peasant blouse. Even with the dim lights they are radiant.

Kieron consciously has to pop his eyes back into their sockets.

“Well then...Kieron, was it?” Alannah asks.

He offers a mute nod.

“Lovely name for a lovely young man,” she says as she pulls away the velvet cloth. “Let's begin.”

A perfect sphere of immaculate, shiny glass is revealed on the table in front of Kieron. He stares at it for a second then smirks and says, “Really? A crystal ball? Did you Google 'fortune-telling' or something?”

“You were expecting bat wings and a cauldron of blood?” Alannah replies, unfazed.

“Alright,” he sighs and slumps back against his chair.

She holds out a small velvet satchel for him. “Take four crystals and place them around the orb on the table, north, south, east, west.”

He reaches in and pulls out four shards --one amber, two blue, one red-- and sets them down around the crystal ball.

“Good,” she says, easing forward in her chair. She lays her hands on the table to the sides of the ball, palms up. “Please take my hands.”

Kieron eyes her carefully, then finally concedes and leans forward, placing his hands on top of hers. As he feels her fingers wrap around his hand, he's struck by how soft her skin is. There's something unexpectedly soothing and comforting about them. It's enough of a distraction away from the fact that his view of the crystal ball is now flanked on each side by her mesmerizing bosom.

Alannah's eyelids drift closed. Her breaths deepen as her chin slowly tilts upward.

Kieron feels a twitch at the edge of his lip, but he can't crack a grin. He's uncertain where to focus his attention.

“Just look into the centre of the orb,” she says, as if reading his mind.

Doing as he's told, Kieron gazes into the ball. After a moment, light seems to reflect off the four crystals and fill the ball with a cascading dance of twisting colours. He leans in closer, entranced. It's beautiful and hypnotic.

“Mmm,” Alannah hums, pursing her lips into a seductive smile. She takes a deep breath, her chest rising, before sighing once again. Her hands squeeze Kieron's a bit more tightly.

Two minutes pass. He can feel the sweat build on his palms as he watches her slowly breathe. She holds her breath, her head fully tilted back, and then finally blows it out in one long, drawn out release. It's enough to send a quiver up his spine.

Alannah opens her eyes. The look on her face, dreamy, flushed, grinning, makes Kieron wonder if she needs a cigarette.

“Delightful,” she says as if she has just consumed manna. “You have the most exquisite aura, Kieron. Such vitality and pureness of spirit. To experience it is truly special.”

Kieron blinks and stitches his brow together. “Uh...thanks?”

She squeezes his palms again and locks her midnight-black eyes upon him. “It's special, Kieron,” she repeats, her voice deepening. “Share it freely, share it wisely and you have the power to make someone feel just as special.”

Her words slip through him like a silk thread through the eye of a needle.

Still holding her hands, Kieron tilts his head to the side and forces a grin. “Um...weren't...aren't you supposed to tell me my future or something?”

“It's bright...radiant and resplendent,” Alannah replies all breathy and sultry, “The flower continues to blossom and stand tall above the grass, strong and defiant in its alluring beauty. People will want to hold it, inhale it, press it up against their skin and absorb it into their being.”

“I'm a flower?” Kieron asks.

“There will be dry days and cold days,” Alannah goes on, “And soon the rain will come. A harsh, torrential downpour...do not succumb to it.”

He suddenly feels a pang of angst swell inside of him. Worry crosses his mind and seeps into his eyes.

“Kieron,” Alannah says in a whispering tone only his ears seem attuned to, “Remember that the rain washes everything clean. The flower finds new life in every drop of water.”

Alannah releases his hand and stands up from the table.

Kieron's gentle brown eyes drift like a feather down toward the crystal ball. He tries to convince himself that the woman is an actress reciting lines of mystic mumbo-jumbo. Somehow, he's not so sure if he can. He blinks, shakes his head, then looks up and asks, “Is that it? We're done?”

“Oh young man,” she says with a broad smile on her luscious lips, “We are done.” She raises her hand toward the tent's exit.

“Ah...okay,” he says as he stands. “Right...so, thanks I guess?”

Alannah follows him out of the tent where Emma stands waiting.

“So, what happened?” she asks as if he has next weekend's winning lottery numbers. She giggles, “Did your aura reveal your future?”

He shrugs and tilts his head. “I'm not sure I can explain what happened.”

Emma looks at him quizzically. “What do you mean? What went on in there?”

“It was a splendid moment,” Alannah interjects, standing by the tent. She really does look like she could use a cigarette.

“Really?” Emma replies. She looks back and forth toward the woman and Kieron. “What exactly did I pay for?”

Alannah laughs and turns to go back into her tent.

“Oh! Me next,” Emma says, “I'd love a reading as well.”

The woman waves her hand. “Sorry, my love. After experiencing such a stimulating spirit, I need a momentary respite.”

Emma grins crookedly.

Just before she disappears behind the flap, Alannah says to Emma, “You're a very fortunate young woman. I envy your experiences.”

With that, Alannah slips away, leaving Emma and Kieron standing outside her tent, momentarily mute.

“That was weird,” Emma mutters.

“Yeah. Totally,” Kieron says with a heavy sigh.

As they slowly turn and walk away, Emma nudges him. “Did you notice her breasts popping out of her top like that? It's like a pillow fight beneath her blouse.”

*

Their afternoon at the carnival continues with the rides. It's at Kieron's insistence. Emma, surprisingly, isn't the biggest fan of amusement rides. She complains that everything spins and whirls and goes round-and-round endlessly, never going anywhere. She'd prefer the thrill of racing through trees on her bike, apparently.

Yet she agrees to one ride after the other. She does it because she knows Kieron enjoys it. He appreciates that.

They board the ferris wheel and it takes them up above the carnival. They don't notice the tufts of cloud speckling the once clear blue sky even as they reach their hands toward it. They sit close to each other, feet playfully brushing and overlapping, watching the horizon appear before them over and over, each time getting a tiny bit darker. With each revolution of the big wheel, it becomes difficult to find words and an uneasy, contemplative silence falls around them.

The ferris wheel comes to a halt as passengers climb off and new ones get on. For a moment, Kieron and Emma are stopped at the highest point and the world and people down below fall further away beneath their feet. Rocking gently in their seats, they stare off into the distance, listening to the wind. Slowly, their hands slide along the handrail and touch. At first their pinky fingers tickle then entwine. Kieron turns toward Emma and finds her already looking back. She's smiling that smile he has seen hundreds of time since he has known her. It still sparks his soul like the first time he experienced it. Yet, there's something in her eyes --her inviting, placid, green eyes-- that stirs something from deep within.

He feels like he's leaning towards her, falling forward as he speaks, “Emma...”

“Hey Em! Kieron!” A voice suddenly bellows from down below. A large group of young people wave to them.

They look down at their friends, startled.

As the ferris wheel brings them down to the ground, they slowly move apart.

Immediately they are surrounded by the group and a flurry of words rush over them.

“Didn't know you guys were coming here. Should of called us.”

“Hey, where did you get that rabbit?”

“God, that fried macaroni and cheese is so gross!”

“Did you go on the Devil's Wheel? I nearly puked!”

“Let's all go and party somewhere! For Emma!”

They are swept up and apart by the group, disoriented and unresponsive to the chatter. Kieron continually looks through the talking heads of his buddies for a flash of Emma's red hair. He catches a few anxious glimpses from her.

The group stops near the exit of the carnival to buy some shaved-ice cones. As they crowd around the tiny stand placing their orders, Kieron suddenly feels a hand on his wrist. It pulls him out from the crowd just as he receives his shaved-ice.

“Hey, Emma,” he says as she leads him away unnoticed by their friends. “Did you want an ice?”

“Come on,” she whispers. She stops for a moment and looks back at the cone in his hand. “What flavour is that?”

“Strawberry.”

She pauses then says, “Bring it.”

The two chuckle as they gather up their bikes and scamper away.

“This way,” Kieron says with a nod. “They might pass us in their cars if we're on the road.”

They walk their bikes along the outside of the fair grounds. The field behind the carnival is packed with a caravan of trucks and campers and they pay little heed to a “Keep Out” sign planted crookedly in the ground. As they quietly make their way through this small, temporary village, they share licks and slurps of the rapidly melting strawberry ice. With the relentless heat in the air, it's a welcome sweet and cool refreshment.

Continuing to sneak through the makeshift paths, they suddenly stop outside a small, tan camper when they hear a loud, unmistakeable groan of a woman. Frozen, Kieron and Emma look at each other, holding their breaths.

“Ohh. Yes, baby,” the voice aches through the screen of the camper's open window. It gently rocks and creaks augmenting the breathy gasps from within.

The two of them cringe and grin, stifling coughs and chuckles.

“Oh...shit,” Emma mouths.

With groans and moans spilling from the camper, Kieron bounces his brows and flashes a lurid smile. Emma waves at him to stop, but he tilts his head and nods towards the windows.

Emma shakes her head. He doesn't listen. Both of them drop their bikes and then perch next to each other on a cinderblock to peek into the camper.

A toasty hazy glow fills the cabin of the camper. It looks cramped and cluttered with indiscernible piles heaped everywhere. Even from outside, Kieron and Emma can feel the stifling heat emanating from within, yet the two people inside don't appear to mind.

On a well-worn mattress covered in a mess of pulled up sheets, two bodies of bare, glistening flesh entwine. The man is seated on the mattress with the woman kneeling upon him, holding him close as they share a lusty kiss, her long hair sweeping over his face. Strong hands scratch down the smooth, sloping back of the shapely woman. They slap at her ass, the curvy rounds of skin rippling against his palms. She moans into his mouth as he clenches and throws his hips up, bucking her upon his crotch. She responds with twisting grinds of her hips as she comes down.

“Mmm! Oh God!” The woman gasps, “Fill me with your cock. Give it to me like that.”

Kieron frowns and squints, reading what he can through the shadows and haze. The harsh sounds of heavy breaths and groaning sighs fill in the gaps in his mind. He focuses on the woman and recognizes the silky voice, the flowing, dark, raven hair and the sultry, voluptuous body.

“Fill me with your spirit, baby,” Alannah beckons. She arches backwards, hands clasped behind his neck, her buxom bosom fully on display.

It's Kieron's turn to mouth, “Oh shit.”

He feels a poke at his side and he looks quickly at Emma. Her eyes are wide as she ekes quietly, “It's him!”

Kieron wasn't exactly paying attention to the man, but on closer examination he realizes it's the carny from the pitching booth. “Undeserving asshole,” Kieron mutters.

Alannah's hair waterfalls towards the floor as she raises her face to the ceiling. The man buries his slick moustache between her glimmering, full breasts, grunting like a beast in heat. All the while their bodies rock and undulate, clashing repeatedly and vigorously.

The camper continually creaks as the couple quickly shift positions, their movements unruly. Sweat is rolling down their bodies and both growl and heave like animals. Alannah crouches on her hands and knees in front of the man, whipping her hair aside as she looks back and up with an inviting grin.

Kneeling behind her, the man handles his shaft with rough shakes, slapping it against her butt. He grins like a snake and smacks her rump with his hand, tanning her fleshy bottom a blushing pink. His chest rises and falls faster as his breaths quicken and finally he releases a quick, stiff thrust forward.

“Ahh!” Alannah gasps, her head tossing back sharply.

He mashes his crotch against her ass ending with an indulgent grind. His hands grip into her soft waist as he slides back and surges forth again, over and over, the full extension of his long shaft moving in and out. Every thrust is punctuated by a harsh smack of slippery flesh-on-flesh and languid calls for more from the woman.

Kieron can feel the camper rock back and forth at his finger tips. The groans and grunts fly past his head. He smacks his lips, parched. He glances down at the paper cone in his hand. It's squashed, strawberry water dripping over his palm and fingers. Tossing it aside he turns to Emma.

She is transfixed, soaking in the view with her wide green eyes as the tip of her freckled nose almost presses up against the window screen. Her glossy lips have slipped open. Kieron can hear a tremble in her soft breaths and notices the slightest quiver on her bottom lip.

He feels even more thirsty as he watches her, and swallows on dust in his throat.

“Oh shit! Oh fuck! Yes!” Alannah's sharp cries snap his attention back to inside the camper.

All of the breathy, sultry mystique has drained out of the voice of the fortune-teller, replaced by primal, raw groans that seep through gritted teeth. The locks of black hair toss and whip around as if in a windstorm, revealing the strained ecstasy on her glistening face. Her ample breasts shake and sway with mesmerizing delight with every turgid thrust from behind.

The man reaches forward and grips her shoulder as he fills her with quicker, jolting strokes. His voice is raspy as he grunts. The muscles along his tattooed arms and stomach look as if they are going to rend apart. His buttocks clench, his head listing back as his whole body stiffens.

Alannah's fingers dig into the edge the mattress, her mouth rounded open but silent, her overheated body also suddenly motionless.

Kieron and Emma both hold their breaths.

“Uhh! Fuck!” The man groans aloud and shakes.

“Uh-ahn!” A deep moan pours from Alanna's throat as her gut curls and quivers. Her head slowly settles onto the mattress, eyes closed, mouth gaping.

The man is still grunting and heaving. He pulls out his cock, rubbing it and stroking it in his palm. He gasps and smacks his lips with each streak of slickness he spurts across Alannah's ass.

Kieron and Emma stand frozen at the window. They continue to hold their breaths, leaning against each other upon the cinder block.

A satisfying smile curls onto Alannah's lips as she recovers her breath. Her face is shiny and glowing. Slowly, dreamily, her dark, slender eyes open. They instantly fix upon the window of the camper. “Well hello there,” she purrs.

Kieron and Emma's hearts suddenly stop.

“Are you hear for a reading?” Alannah asks with a chuckle.

“What the fuck?!” The guy is less enthusiastic about their presence.

“Shit!” Kieron sputters.

As he and Emma tumble back off the cinderblock, he thinks he sees the guy reach for something on a table. He doesn't know what it is. He doesn't want to wait to find out.

“Oh shit! Oh shit!” Emma says repeatedly through a grin like the cat who just stole the dog's bone. She and Kieron scramble for their bikes.

The camper is rocking and clattering from a commotion within.

“You little fucks! Fucking little shits!” The man explodes through the door and runs around to the back of the camper carrying a mallet. He fumes on the empty path, only a soggy paper cone and a stuffed rabbit lying on the ground.

*

At the edge of Buttermilk Pond sits Mr.Gleeson's missing iron and oak park bench. It was three summers ago that the high school vice-principal's beloved bench had disappeared one evening from his front porch. He had explained to the police in detail how he had just finished brushing three coats of shellac on every plank and carefully painted the ornate iron supports himself, that the bench should be considered priceless, and that he knew it must be the kids at the school had taken it.

All of them.

The little brats.

The case was dropped within a week.

In truth, it was only six students involved with the Gleeson Bench Caper, though dozens more who frequented the secluded Buttermilk Pond over the years were able to enjoy the fruits of their exploit.

Mr.Gleeson was right though: the workmanship is excellent and the bench has withstood the weathering and graffiti inscribed upon it very well.

Kieron and Emma sit on the bench staring out across the sparkling waters of the calm pond, winding down from the excitement of their moment of voyeurism. After catching their breaths and revisiting the event with laughter and swearing, Emma finally realizes that she had dropped her polka-dot rabbit in the camper park.

“Maybe we can go back for it later?” She asks sadly as her eyes scan the water.

“Yeah...maybe,” Kieron replies, leaning forward in his seat, his hands clasped. “It's no big deal. It's just a stuffed toy.”

He looks at her. Emma bites her lip and sighs, giving her head a little shake.

By now, rows of clouds march forward above them, swallowing up the blue sky. It's still very warm and humid out, a gentle breeze doing nothing to chase away the heat.

“I always liked coming here. It's so peaceful,” she says, thoughts flitting in the breeze. She stretches out her legs, her hand clasped between her thighs, and shakes them out.

Kieron traces his eyes along the length of her long legs, from her toes up her thighs. It's not something he would usually do; he can't help himself. He continues upward along her arms recalling that, when he was a little boy, looking at her freckles always made him feel itchy. Now he admires each light speckle like sprinkles of cinnamon powder on clotted cream. Finally he regards her face in profile as she continues to reflect on the pond. Her short red hair curls at the back of her neck, her bangs stick to her perspiring forehead just above her brow. Her light emerald eyes just absorb the world before her. She really is the prettiest woman he has ever seen.

“I always liked coming here with you,” he says.

She turns her head to him and smiles. “First time we've been here alone together,” she muses.

“Yeah,” he replies.

Emma shakes her head. “Why was that?”

Kieron sits up. “Why was what?”

“Why have we never come here together before on our own?”

He frowns slightly and thinks for a moment. “Don't know.”

Emma looks at the pond then turns back again. “We've known each other since we were six. Over ten years. Why is it only now...?” Her voice drifts. She's losing her words, her thoughts, to a sudden swell of angst from within.

He can hear her sigh as her eyes drift toward the pond again. Her hands on her lap, her feet still tapping on the ground. Without a word he decides to move now and takes her hand.

They both look down as they hold each other, her skin appearing like clean linen against his mocha hand. She gently rubs the back of his hand with her thumb. They lean forward slowly till their foreheads touch, continuously looking downward. They can feel the air pass from their mouths.

“Kieron.” His name hangs in her throat.

He rolls his lips into his mouth, softens them, and raises them up towards hers.

A sudden frown sparks in her brow. Emma pulls her hand away and stands up. As she steps back towards the pond, she pulls strands of her hair around her ears. A smile pushes onto her lips and she blurts, “I want to go for a swim.”

Kieron visibly shifts gears. “Now?”

Her smile stretches wider. The shine returns to her eyes. Emma nods rapidly and says, “Yeah. Now!” She kicks off her shoes.

As he watches her unzip her shirt and pop the button at the waist of her shorts, Kieron feels little inclination to argue. Sometimes it was best to roll with Emma's impulsiveness.

Her skimpy shirt and shorts are peeled and tossed aside to reveal an even skimpier set of matching powder-blue panties and bra. She turns towards the pond, showing off the most exquisite, toned bottom blossoming from the edges of her panties.

Kieron has to put on the brakes with his own disrobing to truly admire her fetching body. Eventually he manages to pull off his jeans without falling backwards. He cinches up his underwear, trying to adjust the bulge beneath without actually reaching into them.

Emma runs into the pond and dives in. She jumps up with a whoop and stands in the shallows, wiping the water from her eyes, laughing.

“How is it?” Kieron asks as he walks up to the flattened grass and mud at the edge.

“Amazing!” Emma shouts. “Come in!”

Seeing her adjust her now practically transparent bra upon her pert, white breasts is more than enough of an invitation. As she backs away into the deeper area of the pond, Kieron quickly steps forward and slides under the water.

He comes up beside Emma and stands up, the water at his neckline. “Woo! Cold down there!”

Emma nods. “Water is warmer at the top.” She reaches forward and runs her fingers along the top of his head then says, “I like the way the short curls of your hair shine when they're wet.”

Kieron likes the way her red hair darkens and clings to her face, but he doesn't tell her. Instead, he looks towards the far end of the pond. “Wanna race?”

She smirks at him. “Forget it. Won't even be close.”

“I'll go easy on you,” he says through a sharp smile. “Give you a head start.”

“Oh right!” Emma laughs and swipes water in his face.

“Okay, nevermind the head start then!” Kieron winks then makes a break for the end of the pond, kicking up water in her face.

“Bastard!” Emma coughs and dives forward.

It isn't close. Within six strokes she's caught up to him. Even before they reach the end, Kieron concedes defeat by grabbing her waist and effectively spoiling the race.

Emma curses and thrashes and laughs in Kieron's arms. When he releases her, she grabs him by the shoulders and jumps up, dunking him beneath the water and holds him there. It takes a burst of his legs to push her off and he whips his head above the water gasping. As he chuckles and coughs, she dives back down under the water.

“Hey? Hey!” Kieron feels a tug at his waist. He barks at the ripple of water beside him where Emma swims below, “Wait a sec! Woah!”

She resurfaces, grinning, and pumps her hand in the air, holding Kieron's underwear in her grasp like some sort of trophy. “Gotcha!”

“Oh yeah. Okay. Very nice.” Kieron bobs his head.

She taunts him with his underwear just beyond his reach. “Come and get them slowpoke.” She swims back to the shallow waters.

“Whatever,” he grouses as he slowly follows her. “Keep'em. I'm not ashamed.”

“Really?” Emma asks as she stands, the water just below her panty-line.

Kieron takes his time as he approaches. He feels the ground at his feet and he continues towards her, walking. He could see her eyes are trained on him, silently daring him to emerge from the water.

“What about you, Em?” The water just below his chest now, he adds, “You not ashamed?”

Emma tosses his underwear onto the bank of the pond and returns to looking towards him, wiping water from her face.

Slowly Kieron rises from the water and stands in front of her, tall, strong.

Emma's lovely eyes don't stray from his as he moves closer tilting his head down to look at her. Their foreheads touch again and once more they return to the moment. He glimpses a hesitancy and uncertainty which he's never seen in the face of the spirited, young woman. She's nervous because of him. It kicks his impulses into overdrive, a thrill unparalleled even by a suicide ride down a forest hillside. Confident and assured, he takes up her hand gently and brings it between them. He slides her open palm against his shaft, instantly feeling a gratifying warmth and softness.

He watches her eyes drift downward past his dark chest and flat belly. She gazes at her hand sliding up and down and curling around his length, holding it, rubbing it. Her lips tremble apart, wispy, shuddering breaths slipping past.

“You got nothing to be ashamed of,” Kieron whispers.

Emma looks up, still stroking him. She's visibly quivering now, beads of water rolling down her neck, between her trembling, white bosom. He hears her swallow nervously as she reaches for the strap of her bra with her free hand, and slowly slide it off her shoulder. Kieron helps her with the other side. As he reaches behind her to undo the clasp, he kisses her cheek, then the side of her mouth. Finally their lips slide against each other. A breath of air puffs through Emma's lips before he seals his over them.

Their heads circle slowly as they kiss, pressing their lips together. Kieron opens and closes his mouth, pulling in her bottom lip, then her upper lip, before sucking on both of them. His tongue darts forward then curls with hers. He listens to her breathe soft gasps and gulps as their lips fold and their tongues tangle. With each passing second their kiss becomes more urgent, more intense.

They break for only a moment to step back and allow her bra to fall to the water. Kieron looks down to admire her taut dark-rouge nipples topping off the rounded slopes of her powdery white breast. He draws his hand up, cups one in his hand, massages it and then bends down to envelope it with his tongue and lips, eliciting a sharp gasp of her approval.

As he takes pleasure in the feel of her tantalizing flesh with his mouth, he guides her hand back to his cock. It continues to harden against her touch, her hand with a firm grip around it now, stroking her thumb against his tip. Emboldened, his hand flattens against the smooth slope of her belly and slips beneath her panties, curling at her crotch.

“Huh-ahh,” Emma coos then shudders.

Kieron can feel her shaking on her feet, her knees buckling under the water. He stands up and embraces her with his free arm, locking her fluttering lips with another long, passionate kiss.

“Uhh, Kieron,” she aches his name and leans heavily against him. He covers her face and neck with hungry kisses.

He continues to stroke her, his middle finger sliding and teasing up and down her tender line. He presses gently, parting her folds, wiggling his finger between them, gliding in deeper and deeper.

“Uh-uhn.” Emma's body hitches. She turns her head aside and scrapes her teeth against Kieron's shoulder before nibbling and kissing his flesh. Her hand continues to steadily rub his cock; it shifts and throbs noticeably along her fingers.

Kieron backs her up further onto the edge of the pond. His mouth slides down again, suckling on her chin, her neck, her breasts, her belly. Guided by his fiery urges, his broad lips ease their way down, gently, softly, until he's kneeling in the water before her. He loves the taste of Emma's wet skin and savours the tremble on the surface of her flesh. He grips her panties and tugs them down, over her round hips, past her long legs and slips them past her feet. They float back up to the surface.

His hands slide behind her, groping tenderly at her butt --that idiot Doug Furlong must have had one second of pure Heaven in his hand-- and pulls her forward.

Emma gasps and braces her hands on Kieron's strong shoulders as his mouth encompasses her slit. His tongue presses against her line then licks upward drawing another unsteady gasp. He inhales her between his lips, enlisting his teeth with quick nibbles and massaging his tongue along her quivering pink petals. He tickles and dances against her inner tenderness, lapping the sweet wetness he finds there.

Emma is crumbling at his bold advances upon her flesh. Her body lists and shakes. Her belly rolls and trembles before his eyes as she sucks in oxygen above. Every gasp, every groan, every breathless whisper of his name fills Kieron with desire until he's swollen with it, ready to explode.

He rises up, his steeled shaft of muscle grazing against her as he holds her close. He holds her face in his palms, rubbing his thumbs against her blushing cheeks. They trade warm breaths of air between kisses as he locks his eyes onto hers. He takes a breath and says, “Now, Em.”

There's a dizzy look in her eyes. The tip of her tongue slips out as his thumb draws across her bottom lip. She shakes her head slightly, but not to say no. She's clearing her mind for just a moment.

“My shorts,” she says.

She takes his hand and leads him out of the water and onto the grass, picking up her shorts as they walk toward the bench. She reaches into a pocket and as she turns around, she pushes something into Kieron's hand.

He looks down and grins crookedly. Looking back at her, he says, “You put it on.” Then he sits down on the bench.

Emma holds the condom packet in her hand for a moment as she stands before him. He has a full view of her shapely, nude body for the first time and it does well to keep his shaft hard and ready.

Unexpectedly, Emma kneels down onto the grass and pushes apart his legs, shimmying between them. Kieron blinks as he watches her gather his cock in her hand again. “Emma...” He barely breaths her name before his shaft is enveloped by her warm mouth and stroked by her soft lips and tongue.

Kieron grits his teeth, and breaths through them. His brows pinch downward as he sees Emma's lips falling over the length of his cock, then rise back up with a stimulating suck on his stretched flesh. He sweeps his hand through her fine, wet hair, feeling as her head bobs slowly and steadily up and down for what he hopes lasts forever. His dark shaft emerges from her gasping lips, glossy and throbbing.

Both of them regroup their nerves now as Emma opens up the packet. She takes out the condom and eases it over his tip before rolling it down his length with a steady stroke of her hand.

“Come on, Em,” Kieron beckons, taking her hands and helping her to her feet, “Up.”

Emma slides onto his lap, straddling his thighs. As they embrace and kiss, his cock slips and slides across her belly. He clasps his palms around her buttocks once more, helping her steady herself with her knees on the bench. Kieron looks up as he holds her and lifts her up. Her eyes are steady as well even as his tip nudges and prods against the line of her slit. Their eyes never leave one another as he shifts his hips and eases her down, his cock gliding into her with a slow, purposeful stroke.

Emma sucks in her lips and breaths unsteadily as he fills her with his hard shaft. As she settles upon him, Kieron gives his hips a subtle buck.

She gasps sharply and falls against him as he repeats this action. She groans again. And again, and again, and again.

Kieron rolls his hips as he sits on the bench with a smooth, undulating rhythm. Quickly Emma matches his tempo, synching her swaying hips to his long, steady thrusts. The two of them are a thing of beauty, throwing their youthful zeal and vitality into every sultry stroke and grind of their energized bodies.

Kieron pulls her closer, his fingertips tracing lines down her back as he samples her breasts once more with his lips. He continues downward, sliding his hand around her bottom before sliding his fingers down the crack of her buttocks, He reaches underneath and touches his cock as it glides into her. He feels her clench down on every inch of his hard flesh; her tightness is electrifying.

Emma's mouth rounds open and stays that way as she gasps and groans over Kieron. She pulls his face against her chest and he obliges her with more swirling licks of his tongue and hungry sucks upon her breasts.

“Turn around,” Kieron breathes. Emma listens and slides off his cock. She pivots on her feet and settles back against his chest. As he holds her breasts and kisses the side of her neck from behind, he guides his shaft back into her and resumes his heated strokes. His fingertips reach down and circle the hood of her clit, enhancing every thrust.

Emma's head lolls back over his shoulder as she groans aloud to the sky. Her body trembles and shudders endlessly upon his. “Yes...uhh...oh God,” she groans.

The clouds continue to roll overhead and the heat remains. The waters of the pond have long dried upon their bodies, and now replaced by the salty bitterness gleaming upon their bucking flesh.

Moments later, Kieron is above Emma as she lies on the bench. Her calve is against his shoulder the other leg hung over the bend of his elbow. One hand grips the back of the bench, the other grasps his strong hand as she welcomes his relentless, unimpeded thrusts. He presses forward repeatedly, his strokes quickening but always long and potent. They are both dripping sweat now, their bodies slipping upon it.

“Look at me, Em. Look at me,” Kieron urges as he catches her squeezing her eyes shut. He wants to gaze deep into her glossy eyes for as long as possible.

Their bodies reach their apex. Their grunts and moans tumble around in the wide open space surrounding them. They call to each other wantonly, repeatedly, longingly. Kieron's muscles hurt and strain and he can barely catch his breath.

It's wonderful.

“Oh God, Kieron. Uhn! Ah!” Emma's fine, red brows pinch upward. Her face and the skin around her neck is flush pink.

Their young bodies ache and grind, each thrust a yearning cry that this never end.

A moment later, her body strains and twists and clenches as an explosive groan escapes her ruby red lips. “Ahh-uhn!”

Kieron feels her shudder from within. His cock suddenly feels warm and slippery. It pulses painfully, and after two, hard strokes, he grinds his crotch against her, throws his head up and groans, “Ah-huhn! Uhn!”

Kieron bucks as liquid fire streams and spurts from his throbbing cock. He releases fully, clenching his butt and gripping Emma's leg, unloading all the energy bristling within his body. Cold fire courses through his exhausted muscles as he sways and breaths still acutely aware of the beautiful woman he holds and fills. When he looks down over her, she's exhausted and radiant, the most inviting smile teasing upon her lips.

He leans down and kisses her. Emma wraps her legs around his waist and holds him close. They remain that way as the first drops of rain begin to fall, cooling their skin.

*

Even as the rain continues to fall and the evening darkness shrouds them, Kieron and Emma walk their bikes back to town, back through the neighbourhoods, back to her house. They are not in any hurry, though they are soaked through to the skin. They say little, simply holding hands as they approach the house. A moving truck is parked on the road and the family car is already heavily loaded with bags and boxes as well. Her family will be leaving early the next morning.

Just before the driveway, they stop. Kieron casts a watchful eye at the light in the window. “I guess I'll say good-bye here.”

Emma shakes her head regretfully. It's difficult to look him in the eyes but she manages to do so. Kieron can tell she's fighting every impulse to cry. He's glad she does.

They continue to fold hands as they touch foreheads, staring at the wet, muddy ground at their feet. Finally, Kieron kisses her cheek, her forehead, her nose, her lips.

“Bye, Emma.”

Then he turns, gets onto his bike, and rides away, not looking back.

The rain continues, washing out the last days of summer like a candle. He raises his face towards the clouds in the sky welcoming the cooling, cleansing raindrops that fall against his skin.

*

Emma is the first one up the next morning, the continuing rainfall on her window rousing her from her sleep. She pulls herself out of her bed. After packing the last of her stuff from her room in a small bag, she carries it to the front door. As she steps onto the porch, she nearly trips on something left on the floor. She looks down and picks it up. It's wet, and soggy, and matted with mud. She smiles at it for a long time and then holds it close.

Finally, she goes back inside the house to look for something to carry her polka-dot rabbit.