"Oh God, what do we do now?" I knew it, just knew it. I knew something bad would happen if I came along.

"It's okay, everything will be fine, we'll be okay . . . I think . . ." He's always doing things like this. And it's only around me. Only this time, this time he's taken things too far.

"Shut up, Oliver! Everything will not be okay! You can't just keep saying that. You've been telling me everything will be fine for the past two hours! Things can't always turn out that way!" Why me? Why, out of all people he could have brought along with him, did it always have to be me?

"I don't see why you're getting so worked up. I mean, it's really not that bad." As he says this, he runs a hand through his chestnut hair, a smirk threatening to play across his lips. I can't believe him. He thinks this is funny!

"Not that bad? Not that bad? Do you see that? Are we even looking at the same thing? Look at it! Look at how high up it is! Suppose we fall? Suppose we're not secured in correctly? You know how unenthused these park workers can be, what if-" I'm silenced as Oliver brings a hand up to my mouth, stopping my growing list of worries. I can't even imagine how red my cheeks must be.

"Ginger, calm down! None of that will happen," he says, his hand still on my face. I'm still too shocked to remove it.

Suddenly, his expression changes. "Wait, what if the screws aren't in right? What if one's missing? Why, we could very well fall off, or even die!" With this he starts laughing, finally lowering his hand. This asshole.

His amusement is stopped by the angry tears pooling in my eyes. "This isn't funny, Oliver. I know you think it is, but it's not." I can't bring myself to look at him, I'm too embarrassed, but he seriously needs to learn when to stop.

"Oh, Ginger, I didn't mean it. Honestly! It was a joke!" All traces of laughter have left his face, but I don't think I can accept his apology. If there was ever any doubt as to my desire to be here, it's definitely gone now.

"I'd like to go home now."

"Ginger, I'm so sorry! Listen, you don't have to worry." He moves to shift his arm around me, and I feel my face heat up once again. Why does he have to keep touching me?

"I'm here, and I won't let anything happen to you. But if you don't want to do this, we don't have to."

I look up at him in surprise. He's been wanting to come here all summer, ever since the flyers were posted in May, yet he's willing to give it all up for me? I can't do that to him. It's almost fall; school will start soon, and then we won't have time to come here.

"No, no, I'll be okay!" I exclaim in a completely undignified and totally not okay squeak. " Look, we're almost at the front, see? We can't give up now." I manage a weak smile at him as I turn away, walking up to the gate and handing my ticket to a very bored and unconcerned-looking teenager. Oliver might be a complete fucking asshole sometimes, but I can never stay mad at him for long. I know I can't put this off anymore, and within moments Oliver and I are being pushed into two seats at the very front of the ride.

"Here we go, Ginger. If you get scared, you can close your eyes, alright? I'll still be right here with you."

I fasten my seatbelt- pulling it tighter than necessary- and pull down the safety bar. Shouldn't there be more to hold me down?

"See? Nice and secure. Nothing could possibly happen."

Even with an unenthusiastic countdown from the worker, it still feels as if the coaster jerks forward all too suddenly. It's time. As we ascend the hill, I notice just how high up we really are.

"Almost halfway up. It's really not that bad."

Halfway? This is halfway?

"Yeah, not that bad . . ." Is his voice growing quieter, or is that just the roaring in my ears?

"Could . . . be . . . worse . . ."

We reach the crest, and I can't take it anymore. I grab Oliver's hand, or maybe he grabs mine. All I know is, as the ride shoots forward, we're hanging on to each other for dear life.

Once we get going, I find this isn't so bad. It's actually pretty . . . fun. Soon, I'm raising my free hand in the air and screaming at the top of my lungs, adrenaline blurring out all other thoughts. Like how I'm never going to hear the end of it later for holding on to Oliver's hand for so long.

The ride is over much too soon, and as we step off I continue to clutch Oliver, more out of dizziness than fear. Laughter bubbles up as I look to see how he is doing. Unlike me, his eyes are unfocused, and he looks much paler than before. Is that a tint of green I see?

Did that really scare him? It would explain the fact that he's basically squeezing the life out of my entire arm now. I laugh even more, amused at his sudden change in demeanor.

"So what do you say, again?"