Page 45 of Sparrow

And it terrifies me. Because when you love things this hard, it hurts even worse if they disappear.

I turn away from her and her friends and stalk the other way, intent on finding anyone else to help other than her. She’s fine. She’s got Taryn and Sammy, and they’re having fun.

She doesn’t need me when she has them.

I immediately see other things that need doing, and run for one of the booths, where the ties holding it together have come undone. If someone doesn’t tie it down, the roof is going to blow off and everything inside is going to be ruined. I run and jump, hitting the side of the booth high enough that I can reach the first tie, and wrestle it into place, then secure it. I slide along the wall, finding footholds in the knots of the wood, and try for the second one, but can’t quite reach the ropes.

But trying to makes me slip, and within moments I’ve lost my grip on the wall and am falling.

Instead of hitting the mud, though, I find something solid under my feet. Something secure. I look down and see a ladder there, my feet resting on one of the lungs, and I stare at them, shocked and trying to figure out how a ladder just appeared there. Was it here before? Did I just not see it?

“Get down, you idiot!” someone shouts. “There’s plenty of ways to play hero without risking a broken leg!”

My eyes slide to the right of my feet and I see Arden there, grinning at me like this is all one big game. She’s got one hand on the ladder and I realize that she brought it over and put it in my way.

She caught me when I was falling.

She appeared like an angel with a magical ladder, right when I needed her.

“Stop staring and get down!” she shouts.

I yank myself out of my reverie and look out beyond her, and seconds later I am jumping down from the ladder. Because everything is going directly to hell. Anything not tied down is blowing frantically in the wind, ribbons and banners and prizes swept up into the air and thrown around like kids’ toys. The people are working to save everything but everyone is running in different directions and half of them are running into each other, everyone overwhelmed by the sudden wind and rain.

My feet hit the ground next to Arden and I take her hand, then run for where the pile of goods is. We get there more quickly than I expect and I try to stop, but we’re moving too quickly and the mud beneath our feet is slick, and my momentum sends me sliding forward. I’m still holding Arden’s hand and she’s yanked after me, but slips and hits a mud puddle face-first. I stop and look in horror, terrified that she’s broken something, and am about to help her up when she jumps to her feet.

I expect her to be angry or at least upset that she’s just taken a nosedive into a mud puddle, but instead…

She’s laughing.

Seconds later, I have a face full of mud myself and she’s screeching and running away from me like a child.

“Did you just throw mud at me?” I ask, shocked.

“No!” she shouts over her shoulder. “I smashed it right in your face!”

Her laughter is manic, and it does something to my insides. Maybe it’s the fact that she’s laughing at me, or the fact that she’s the first person in years to be brave enough to act like a kid around me, but the freedom of it, the pure joy, gets into my heart and starts… expanding.

Like a balloon.

An Arden-flavored balloon that grows and grows until it’s taken up every spare inch of space in my body and demanded that I return the favor.

I stoop down, grab a handful of mud, and fling it after her retreating form, but my aim is terrible and I hit Penny instead. She looks at me with shock but then laughs, and moments later she’s throwing mud at me and I’m flinging it back at her, giggling like a fucking schoolboy, while the man behind her takes it upon himself to attack her from the back. Arden shouts that I’ll never catch her, and I turn to look, mud already in my hands, to see that the entire town has joined in. Mud is streaking through the air, people shouting and screaming and laughing, and everyone here has suddenly devolved into a child.

None of them are recognizable as adults. Partially because they’re all covered in mud.

“When in Rome,” I mutter, and charge forward, looking for Arden’s slight frame and vowing that this time, she won’t get away.

When I finally spot her, she’s got Mars cornered and is peppering him with mud balls while he laughs so hard he can barely stand up, and I slide to a stop and watch them.

Because I’ve never heard Mars laugh this much in my life, and I don’t want to interrupt them. He looks years younger, the tension melting off him like ice cream, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him let go of the responsibilities he always carries around with him.

He actually looks his age. He actually looks happy.

And for one intense, dangerous moment, I let myself wonder what would happen if we made this last. What if we made this our reality and reached for this much joy all the time?

What if we kept Arden?

Because there’s no doubt in my mind that this is her doing.