Page 98 of Heart Over Heels

Five?

Mercer snorted. “Well, hey. It’s a start.”

I swiped my card again.

Spin.

Wait.

Press.

The balloon grew but remained intact.

Ten tickets this time. Barely better.

I swiped again.

Spin.

Wait.

Press.

Lights danced, chimes played, and the machine sang about my mediocrity.

Maybe seven tickets spilled out. I didn’t count. I refused to acknowledge them.

Beside me, Mercer’s tone was dry. “So, I take it you haven’t really done this before.”

“I don’t think any of us have,” I muttered while lining up again. “Except maybe Ellie. He’s a baby.”

Mercer blinked. “What constitutes a baby?”

The wheel turned while I pondered. “I think he’s from the nineties? Like, that’s when he was born.”

“Oh.” Mercer glanced at the machine. “And he… died?”

“Yeah, Mercy.” I pressed the button. Missed. Balloon inflated. Tickets mocked me. “We all died.”

“Do you know how?”

“Do I know how Elliot died?” My glance cut toward Mercer in time to catch his nod. I hesitated, eyes returning the wheel but thoughts far beyond it. “I think that’s more his business than ours.”

Mercer nodded again, and both of us went quiet while the machine chirped and the bloated balloon threatened to pop with every failed attempt.

After a while, Mercer asked, “What about everyone else? If Elliot’s the baby, then the rest of you are older?”

“Mmhmm.” I swiped my card again. “Zeph and I are close. Turn of the century.” Press.Miss. Balloon growing smug. “The twins are next. Nineteen sixties or so? Then Ozzy in the seventies. It’s a wide spread.”

Mercer leaned against the side of the machine as the balloon wobbled, one breath from bursting.

I couldtastevictory.

“Okay,” I muttered, tail flicking, eyes sharp. “This time.”

I pressed the button.

The wheel turned, slowing to a stop when it clicked past POP by one tick.