Freaks and Fortune

It was eight in the morning when my world suddenly went black. I felt soft, worn leather on my face and felt a tingling heat from someone's fingers spread out over my forehead.

"Guess who?" a familiar voice asked.
I sighed. "Get off me, Cal."

He took his hands off my eyes and tugged at my shoulders, urging me to face him. He was half-dressed, those baggy pajama bottoms paired with his white button-up shirt used for his Fire-Breathing show.

"We don't have much time," he breathed. "So we've got to hurry."
"I'm working right now, Cal," I reminded him.
He winced dramatically and sucked in his breath. "Yeah... About that..."
"What?" I raised an eyebrow.
"Today you're going to play hooky."

I laughed spitefully, but it was too soon. Cal scooped me up and threw me over his shoulder. I gasped, my stomach compressed uncomfortably, and yelled. Then he was off, running so fast that I could barely see where we were going. I pounded my fists against his back and tried to claw at him but his stupid leather jacket was too thick.

"'Scuse me, 'scuse me," he muttered, pushing through the thick crowd.

At this time of day, everyone is getting ready for the Carnival, which begins at about eleven. Then, towards five o'clock, there's another rush. Everyone freaks out about getting the Circus ready. There are lions to be groomed and new costumes to be donned.

Right now, there were so many people buzzing around that nobody even noticed the Fire-Breather running with an Errand Girl thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Even if they did notice, I doubt they would have had time to stop.

In a matter of minutes, Cal set me down on the ground outside the Freak Cabin, clearly marked with an engraved sign on the door that simply said, "Freaks."

He opened his mouth to say something, but he was cut off when I slapped him smartly across the face.

He bit his chapped lips to keep from smiling and sucked in a deep breath.

"Once again, babe: Love that."
I scowled.
"But now's not the time, 'kay?" he muttered, looking anxious.
I reeled back again, but he reached out and grabbed my hand, lacing his fingers in mine. His leather gloves were worn and warm.

"Let go!" I hissed.
"Hear me out!" he retorted.

I smacked his chest with my free hand and started trying to yank my hand away from him. He hitched up the elastic waistband of his pajama bottoms and effortlessly twisted my arm behind my back. Our fingers were still laced.

"I'm a pacifist, babe," he breathed directly into my ear, a smile in his voice. "Don't make me- Ow!"

I'd interrupted him with a sharp jab to the groin with my free elbow.

"What do you think you're doing?" I yelled, whirling around to face him. He was hunched over, groaning in pain and clutching his crotch. "Are you honestly threatening me?"

"Stop screaming, stop screaming!" he urged quickly, his voice breaking. "Think of all the money and special treatment you'll get when you become the new Kissing Booth Girl."
I scowled at him. Money and special treatment were of no concern to me.
"One day, please?" he begged, straightening up and shielding his crotch subconsciously. "Just try it for one day? I promise I'll stop bothering you."
"One day," I stated. "And you never talk to me again, got it?"

"Yes! Thank you! You're a life saver!" he cried, moving to hug me, but thinking better of it.
"That means no little visits to me at the Elephant Cages, understood?"
"Aye, aye, babe!" He saluted me sharply and then tugged me into the cabin, nearly tearing off my arm.

The interior was like summer camp. There were three beds, one pushed up against the wall nearest to the door and the other in the form of bunks on the opposite side of the cabin. Posters of movie stars and Piccadilly's circus advertisements littered the walls, tacked up with messy pieces of scotch tape.

From what I knew, there were four Freaks. I was confused at the number of beds, thinking that they were short one... Until I saw Cal's hammock pinned up in the corner. Pillows and blankets were thrown sloppily into the crook of the netted bed. A picture of a family was tucked into the corner of the mirror on top of his bureau. His boots and black pants were thrown unceremoniously into the corner.

"Is he here yet?" Cal shouted upon bursting through the door.

He had a firm hold on my arm, as if he were afraid that I'd run away.

"No, but he's on his way," a girl called lazily from atop the highest bunk. She had dark bronze skin and a black pixie cut. Her eyes were slanted in an exotic way, and were as black as her hair.

She was reading a book bound in supple red leather, I couldn't see the title, but she seemed pretty into it.

"Aqua... You gonna help me or what?" Cal asked a boy who looked to be about sixteen.
"Just do it yourself, asshole," a boy mumbled from under his pillow on the bottom bunk. "It's your fault that she's here in the first place."
"Fine," he scowled. "Didn't want your help anyway."

The girl with black hair leaned over the side of her bunk, eyeing me casually. She caught sight of where Cal was gripping my arm.

"You got your gloves on?" she asked, seeming slightly concerned.
"Yeah, yeah, Sav. I'm not stupid, okay?"
"Whatever."

He let go of me, giving me a pleading look, begging me not to turn and run. He dropped down on all fours and reached under the single bed and appeared with a pink shirt. Deeply v-necked, and flecked with gold sequins, it looked like something a nine-year-old would faun over at some typical store in the mall.

I wrinkled my nose slightly.

"What's that?"
"It was one of Jenny's shirts," Cal told me, tossing the rag at me.

The material felt cheap. It was stretchy, the kind that wrinkled up easily. I turned it over in my hands, looking for some sort of pro. But all I found were cons, cons, cons.

"Who's Jenny?" I asked. I added silently in my head, "And was she an unfashionable pre-teen?"
"Jenny was the old Kissing Booth Girl," the girl on the top bunk explained. "She ran off with one of the Acrobats."
"I thought she ran off with the Strong Man's son?" the boy on the bottom bunk retorted, taking the pillow from his face.

The boy was blonde. Not just blonde... But blonde. His hair was, literally, a step away from white. It was spiked up in a careless style, jagged and parted to the side. His body was like a sheet of paper, thin and so pale that it was almost translucent. He blinked and I could count the blue veins in his eyelids.

The most astounding thing about him were his hands and feet. They were webbed. I had just gotten used to the fact that he was, apparently, Aqua Boy, when I realized that he actually had gills.

Cal snapped me back to reality by touching my shoulder.

"It doesn't matter who Jenny is," he said, encouraging me to hurry. "Just put her shirt on."
I laughed out loud. "What? No way!"
Aqua Boy snorted in laughter.
"Why not?" Cal pleaded.
"Give me one good reason."
"It's to impress Mr. Piccadilly!" he cried, his eyes flicking from the pink monstrosity to my face and back again. "I told him about you and he's coming to see if you'd be a good candidate for the job."
"No, no, no!" I shouted. "No, you said I already had the job. I only had to test it out for one day!"
The girl up on the top bunk laughed at Cal. "You sure drive a hard bargain," she teased sarcastically.

Cal looked so stressed that, for an instant, I almost felt sorry for him. He was clenching his fists and I could see his heart hammering through the slit in his shirt.

"Please..." he breathed. "I'm scared that he's going to find out that I didn't go into the city to find Jenny's replacement. I'm scared he's going to kick me out."

I blinked.

"Okay," I said.
"Okay?" Cal asked. "Like... Okay, you'll do it, okay?"
"Yes. I'll do it."
He flung his arms around me and squeezed. His embrace was especially warm. I felt heat radiating from his body.

"But I am not wearing that shirt."