Page 19 of Love at Full Tilt

My phone buzzes with a text from Issy. A picture of her, Tess, and Carter displaying their half-eaten Cronuts with giant smiles on their faces.

A knot forms in my stomach as I imagine Issy and Tess hanging the photo on their dorm wall. Another memory without mein it.

Lia

Nice! We’re headed to Valyrad’s Flight for clue2. Meet us there?

(11:22 AM)

I can feel Mason’s eyes lingering on me, so I do my best to ignore the sourness that overtakes me every time I think about next year.

“What about you?” he asks quietly.

“What about me?”

“Didn’t you just graduate? What’s next?”

“Working at my parents’ store.” I try (and, by his expression, completely fail) not to sound miserable about this prospect. “We sell furniture.”

“Not your thing?”

I shake my head. “It’s a good job. But I’m not…a fanatic…about furniture.”

“In that case, you should come work here.” The right corner of his mouth ticks up slightly, a flash of teasing in his eyes.

I laugh ruefully. “I wish.”

“What would you want to do?”

My shoulders stick by my ears as I shrug.

I’ve never admitted this out loud to anyone but Tess and Issy.

“Create new stories. Ones that represent more people.” I run my hand over the back of my neck, accidentally tugging some of my hair out of my ponytail.

I try to laugh. “Now who sounds dumb? I don’t even know if that’s a job that actually exists. ”

“It does. There’s a whole storytelling department here. They come up with the concepts that get turned into movies and rides and performances.”

“Oh,” I mumble weakly. He’s made this silly idea of mine seem almost real. Something I could grab on to. Actually do.

Mason’s gaze deepens, its touch heavy on my face. “And that’s not a dumb goal at all.”

I dismiss those words with another shrug. “It doesn’t matter. My mom can barely handle me being in another room. Never mind another state.” I force a smile as if this is all fine. Even if it is so not fine that it hurts.

“Where’s home?” he asks.

“Massachusetts.”

“That’s far.”

I shrug. “It’s not that bad, but my mom…she’s a worrier.”

Up ahead, the entrance of Valyrad’s Flight comes into view.

The tension in my chest loosens at the sight of it.

I don’t want to have to explain that “worrier” is the world’s biggest understatement when it comes to my mother.

I don’t want to keep thinking about her and next year when I’m in my favorite place on earth, doing everything I can to change my future.

But if Mason asked, I’d end up telling him more.

A simple look from him seems to unspool every thought I’ve keep tightly coiled and hidden away for so long.

Tess, Issy, and Carter are waiting for us by the ride’s sign, and as we file into the queue (me first, followed by Mason and then our friends), they gush about the Cronuts and their soft texture and silky ganache so much that my mouth waters.

Thank God Issy had some sent to the room for us to snack on tonight.

The FOTL section is moving quickly, and we make our way up a series of cavern halls lined with flickering torches that set the shadows dancing. Every few minutes the flap of giant wings fills the narrowing space between the stone walls, and blasts of wind buffet our hair.

When we hear Valyrad’s baritone call out the first warning to turn back, I can’t help but glance at Mason and grin.

The light in his eyes as he smiles back chases a shiver up my spine. He looks almost as excited as I feel.

I never want to leave. My heart squeezes at the thought of it.

Just before the loading area, a second corridor branches to the left. Small arrows are etched into the wall, barely visible among the claw marks that rip through the stone from ceiling to floor.

I wave for the others to follow as I take the turn. The corridor should angle up and end on a balcony with Valyrad’s statue at its center. I remember reading about it on F 3 .

We seem to walk forever in the near dark. After the third bend, Tess asks if we’re lost.

I keep moving forward. I have already been wrong once today. It can’t happen again.

Beside me, Mason’s strides are as sure as mine. “Have you been here before?” I ask him quietly.

“When I was a kid.” His mouth tightens for a second. “I had nightmares about this thing for a week afterward.”

“No way.”

“It’s huge,” he confirms. The way he spreads his hands to demonstrate makes our arms brush and neither of us steps away.

All the heat in my body rushes to that spot and stays there. I think the last time I developed this strong a crush on someone so quickly, I was eleven, and the guy was a cartoon character. It doesn’t help that Mason looks a little like Oliver Cray.

I avert my eyes from his, afraid of what he might be able to read on my face.

Finally, the air-conditioned cold is met by a wall of Florida humidity. Sunlight creeps toward us from the opening ahead.

“Holy shit,” Tess mutters as we step out onto the balcony.

Above us towers a fifteen-foot replica of Valyrad.

His wingspan is easily the size of a large car, and they reach out past the railings, shooting over the mountain’s peak and into the sky.

Exactly as the posts on F 3 promised. He stands facing us, as if he’s just landed from flight.

Although he’s made of the same gray stone as most of the statues I’ve seen here, his feral expression and the bend and pull of his muscles seem so fluid that I almost believe he’s real.

“Okay, I get the nightmares,” I mumble.

Mason laughs.

Issy, Tess, and Carter are circling the statue, taking it in from every angle. I extract my phone from my pocket and snap a few pictures: one of the full statue and the rest of my friends’ awed expressions.

At the same time, Mason and I step toward the QR code positioned at the center of Valyrad’s chest. We almost bump into each other before he waves for me to go first. Queuing up the app and capturing the image feels like it takes an eternity.

The whole time, I can feel Mason behind me as if he’s pressed against my spine, even though there’s enough distance between us to fit another person.

I could stand here for hours, admiring this statue, but four other contestants wander in and it’s a reminder that I need to hurry. We rush to retrace our steps to the FOTL queue. At this point, the quickest way back down to the park is to do the ride.

The loading area is as well themed as the rest of the attraction. Stalactites jut from the ceiling like spears, and a cold wind whips through the cavernous space, blowing droplets of water from the icy stone into our faces.

This is one of those indoor roller coasters where your feet hang over the ride, and the whole thing begins with a ninety-degree drop into darkness. Each of the cars has wings as wide and jagged as Valyrad’s that swoop over our heads.

Issy and Tess sit in the back of the car, and Carter takes the middle row, leaving Mason and me to ride in the front.

The seat fits snugly against my hips, and I’m relieved when the harness pulls down over my head and snaps easily into place. I would have cried if I had to miss this after all the anticipation.

These few moments before a ride begins always fill me with a potent mixture of excitement and dread.

My legs are currently dangling off the floor, and we’re who knows how many stories up, and I have volunteered to be twisted and dropped and turned at high speeds in the dark with nothing but shoulder restraints of plastic and metal holding me in place.

Why do we love this so much?

Adrenaline pumps through my veins, and my shaky knee knocks against Mason’s. My heart beats wildly in my chest.

He grins over at me. “Are you ready for this?” he asks.

I shake my head. “Absolutely not.”

A second later, the lights dim and animatronic versions of Dahlia Penny and Valyrad appear on either side of us. They yell their iconic lines from the movie at each other, their voices cracking over our heads like thunder.

Just before the track creaks to life, Mason holds his hand out.

My eyes cut to the entrance ahead, waiting to swallow us whole. Then I weave my fingers through his.

A second later, the car jerks, and we’re tossed downward into the dark.

I don’t let go the entire time.