Page 199 of Checking Out the Librarian

Jess

Whatcha doing? Why aren’t you here yet?

“Fucking spy kid,” Connor muttered as he typed his reply.

Connor

Were here.

In the lot

Jonathan hung over his arm and read what he typed. “Tell her you’re having an existential crisis, and she needs to build a safe space for you. Maybe with some cookies.”

“Not gonna do that.”

Jess

I’m in the beer garden across from the street corn stand with Hannah and Bri

“That’s my safe space. See, I didn’t need to ask.”

Connor

Go ahead and tell them about Jonathan. And me. About me and J I mean

His finger paused. He heard Jonathan’s breath next to him, and swore he could almost hear their heartbeats in the dark. No way that was real, though, because the tinny music of the rides and some distant announcer on the other side of the fairgrounds would have drowned out the thumps in his chest.

He sent the message.

It felt like a good start, or at least as much field prep as they were going to get on short notice.

Together, they crossed the lot. He took Jonathan’s hand at one of the drainage ditches, although Jonathan’s balance was better than his own, and didn’t let go until they reached the gate.

Jonathan already had a twenty out. “I’ll get the tickets. I asked you to prom, remember?”

The fairy lights hanging across the midway were a bit dreamy, or maybe he was. He’d been attending River Days since he’d been too young to remember. There were photos of him in a stroller on the midway, and this was where he’d won his one and only buckle, yet he’d never seen it sparkling and glowing like this.

“Where’s the corn stand and the beer garden? Connor?”

“Oh, this way.” He pulled Jonathan down a row of carnival food stands.

Walking tacos, fair scones, street corn, pizza cones, elephant ears, actual real tacos that looked and smelled excellent, over-sized lemonades, soft-serve cones, burgers, barbecue, everything called his name, but he was headed for Jess and a beer.

“Wait!” Jonathan pulled him back. “What is this? Do you know anything about this?”

There was a line in front of a stand marked simply, The Bacon Barn. The sign board listed bacon-wrapped franks, no surprise, but then it continued through another fifteen or more options, including fried bacon, chocolate covered bacon, bacon sundaes, and pickle-juice marinated crispy bacon.

“I think,” Jonathan stared at the menu and shook his head. “I think.” Midway food seemed to have stolen his ability to make sentences.

“No thinking. The Bacon Barn is a do or don’t do moment, that’s what a fair is.”

“Do.”

Connor heard I do and it sounded beautiful.

41

NOT PLAIN CORN