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ann-yakor · 7 months

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Mastermind.

| okay, so this is my first time doing this ever, I swear English isn't even my first language so I may have or may have not made chatgpt proof read this and help me with my grammar 😭🫠 lol

Pls be nice, this took me so much time and is probably not that good but I kinda like it.

Also, I don't know how to count words with the 1K! 1.2K! Cause math, my brain can't do that but this has around 2.100 words

"What do I have to do to get what I want? Let’s say I have a plan. Which I don’t. This plan would consist of a few steps. Little steps, since I can't focus on a lot of things at the same time.

The first part of the plan would be to get involved. Since social media exists, it's easier and easier to get inside people’s small private circles without them even noticing. You just open Instagram, search for… let’s say, your crush's account, and then you immediately follow… her best friend. Her best friend, who follows an insane number of people, will follow you back. Even though you're biting your nails, growing more anxious by the second, wanting to talk to her, you don't. You wait for a day or two. Then you upload a story about your cat. An hour has passed after that, and her friend saw it. Actually, her friend liked it. That's when you can get into her friend's DMs. And you talk to her about how you are new in town and hadn't got the chance to make any friends. If you chose wisely, she’s her extroverted friend. In fact, she’s the golden retriever that adopted her into the friend group in the first place. After a few days talking about where to get this, where to get that, the music you like, and how you wished you had friends to go to the weekend fair, you get invited. You are being adopted.

Don't be nervous, I know you messed up before, but this is what planning is for; sweaty palms and stutter won't be a problem when every word is scripted and perfectly crafted.

But don’t get too excited already either because you're gonna ask how many people are gonna be there. And after putting an excuse about being bad at names, you’re gonna make sure she's not going. The girl with the freckles? Not really a fan of fairs. Lucky for you.

Now the fun part is getting to know her friends.

We know Dina; she’s extroverted, charismatic, and if she wasn’t dating Jesse, she’d probably be a threat since she’s also gorgeous and generous.

Then there’s Jesse, the silly boyfriend, a joker, always in a silly mood, and trying to make everyone smile, even if deep down he’s having a hard time; nobody knows. But you know because his pain matches yours. So you smile at each other, in silent understanding.

After a couple of games, Jesse and you have secret jokes, and Dina is gossiping about everything that happens in Jackson, the small community that celebrates everything and is always throwing fairs like this. Your younger self would be thrilled; it sounds like Mystic Falls or Stars Hollow even, but this is a real place and is where you're gonna live for a long time now, so... please don't mess things up.

Now you’re feeling proud of yourself; her friends are your friends now. So, let's get to step three.

“Jesus, I’m so sorry!” Someone accidentally pushing me to the floor is definitely not part of the plan, but neither was wearing my old Converse instead of my new pink Nikes, and here we are. It shouldn't be an inconvenience. Oh, and yet it is when I get up, and it's her green eyes that I see.

The fairgrounds buzz with colorful lights, the distant echoes of laughter, and the scent of cotton candy and popcorn wafting through the air.

“Don’t! It was my fault; are you okay?” This is not how the first conversation was supposed to happen. Her friends were supposed to introduce me to her, skipping the awkwardness. Her friends were here with me. Her friends… are nowhere to be found now.

And she's standing there, with her perfectly fitting jeans, her matching Converse with mine that made me think maybe I took the right choice, and her flannel shirt. Under the moonlight, her arm tattoo looks so good; it's intimidating, and I have to physically force myself to get my eyes on her eyes before I look creepy.

She scratches the back of her head, a few strands of red hair falling on her face; she seems worried because I’m not talking. “…yES, yes, I’m sorry… I was kind of looking for my friends, I guess?” She smiles; I melt. But she still looks confused.

“You guess?”

“Well, I don’t know if I can call them friends; it's my first time meeting them. I’m new to town.” That excuse is getting old.

“How rude; would you like to stay with me? I’m also looking for my friends.” Shit, shit, shit.

“Did they also leave you behind?” She chuckles and fidgets with her fingers, like she’s nervous, but I know her; I know she’s not extroverted; she’s the anxious one of her group.

“Actually…” she bites her lip “…I wasn’t supposed to be here; I changed my mind at the last minute.” I know.

“So your friend-“

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“What?”

“Okay, this is dumb, but my friends are always telling me to invite girls I find cute for drinks. Probably makes much more sense when we’re at the club. It’s just that I never do. But now you’re here, and we’re having an actual conversation, and I think you’re really cute, and-“

“Yes.”

“What?”

“Yes, you can buy me a drink. I mean, maybe not a drink, but I’ll let you buy me a cotton candy if you want to, and we could share?”

“That would be great.”

New plan: don’t act stupid.

We walk in silence towards the one person selling cotton candy there, is an awkward silence, and I found myself getting lost in my thoughts even when she asks which color I want; everything happens so fast, I don't even notice she's been talking to me.

“So if you’re new here, who were you hanging out with?”

“Oh, I don’t think you would know them.” Liar, you’re gonna get a bellyache.

“Try me; I’ve been living here my whole life, and it’s a small town.”

Her soft-looking lips wrapped around a piece of blue cotton candy (her choice), and the sugar melted. Change the subject maybe?

“What was your name again? I feel like before I go on telling you the names of my friends, I should at least know who am I talking to.” Okay, it didn’t have to sound like that; fuck, I’m an idiot. She lifted two hands in the air and chuckled; I was getting used to that sound and the butterflies it made me feel.

“Okay, okay… fair, I’m Ellie.” It sounded so different when she said it; I have heard Dina say it, Jesse say it; I tried pronouncing it out loud the first time I ever heard it on the street when I saw her the first time, arguing with an old man about getting a new PlayStation. Shit, am I sounding insane in my own head?

She didn’t add anything more, but her eyes scanned me, my face, my lips; she was expecting me to reciprocate, and I did; my name came out in a higher pitch than

expected, but she smiled; her freckles forming new constellations when her cheeks lifted after her lips turned up. Corny. Stop looking.

“That’s a pretty name.”

Is that what I think it is? Behind the tree? Is it Jesse?

“You wanna go there?”

I blinked, once, twice; the tree was beside… the house of horror? No, thanks.

“Sorry, what?”

“The house of horror; I’ve been there plenty of times; every year is the same. But it's good! Come on; I can show you. I need to keep you around after we finish the cotton candy anyway.”

I nodded. What? No, this is not part of the plan; don’t act stupid is the plan; you’re definitely acting stupid if you’re getting scared.

The world stopped moving the moment her hand brushed mine; she gave me an insecure puppy look; she was asking for permission to take my hand, and my stupid brainless self made the right choice.

I saw our fingers interlock, saw her grin turn into a big smile, saw the pink take over her flushed cheeks, and saw her rare burst of confidence weaken when she scratched her neck with her other hand.

“I’ve never been in a house of horror.” Now her face illuminated even more, as if I just didn’t say that I might probably pass out in front of her the second we put a foot in that thing; she looked excited; now it felt like she was showing a way to wonderland, something new, something she’s been trying to get people to see in the past.

“Really? That’s great; you’re gonna get sooo scared.” Maybe saying it out loud like that made her realize how it sounded, or maybe it was the look on my face, because the next thing I know, she’s squishing my hand and giving me an apologetic look.

“We can do something else if you want to.”

“No! No, I wanted this, right? And it’s better to go with someone experienced than on my own, right?”

“Right… don’t worry; you’ll be safe with me.”

In no time, we were in the line, and even if I loved the silence the night and the stars gave us, eventually, the cotton candy ended, and now there was no reason not to be talking; she was even looking nervously all around. We were not moving, and yet her hand was still placed in mine; we looked like teenagers on their first date. Was this a date? No, no way. Running into someone and sharing candy and going into a house of horror was not a date, was it?

“Are you okay?”

“Huh?”

“You got lost in your head.”

“Oh sorry, it happens all the time. I was…”

“Don’t worry; I get it. But we’re kinda holding the line, so, after you?”

“What? No way; you’re going first.”

I laughed; the mood was light again; I wondered why things were so easy around her. Maybe I should throw my stupid plan away and just let it be.

“Okay, I thought you were braver than that.” She mocked, and I gasped; oh no, she can’t do that.

“You can’t trick me into walking to my possible death like that; nu-uh, I’m smart.”

And with that, she went first; after paying our tickets, of course. I tried to pay mine at least, but she refused.

The fairgrounds now gave way to a sinister facade—the house of horror. It loomed before us, a foreboding structure with cracked and weathered walls, adorned with eerie paintings of grotesque creatures. A dimly lit entrance beckoned visitors, shrouded in a chilling atmosphere, enhanced by the faint sound of eerie music and distant screams.

The house of horror was post-apocalyptic themed; there were zombies all over the place, and after the first scream from another person walking ahead of us, I was already clamped onto her arm like my life depended on it. She was having the time of her life.

“It hasn’t even started yet.”

“Shut up.”

The house of horror ended up being less scary than expected and more fun; first, we saw a person running scared from someone who was trying to eat her. By the second time, I got scared; I noticed it was showing the stages of infection, and now the actor had some kind of fungus growing on their face, making him blind. Ellie laughed at this like it was hilarious how the poor thing couldn’t see (even if we could see the two holes for the eyes, it was fun to pretend we couldn’t). The third and fourth ones made me scream in not such a pretty way because now I could even see a person behind all that fungus-like figure. Ellie held me by my waist one of those times, and even when we got out, she didn’t let go.

Walking outside the back doors of the house, she slid a strand of hair behind my ear and tried to take my face away from my hands. I wasn’t that scared; maybe I liked this little game where she pretended to laugh at me, but in reality, was checking if I was okay, and I acted like I was scared when in reality, I liked her attention and small touches. It felt like going out with a best friend, except that I didn’t want her as a friend.

“You’re a wimp,” she said, her eyes shining under the moonlight as a crooked smile lifted her apple cheeks, and a blush made her freckles stand out brighter than the stars in the sky; I was falling.

“Yeah, maybe, but you have been taking care of me, so you kinda want to kiss me.”

With the plan tossed out to the trashcan a long time ago, what did I have to lose? Maybe the cotton candy we had made the wrong effect on me.

“Yeah.”

Her voice, so low and raspy, got my legs trembling and my cheeks getting red; she tightened her grip on my waist as if she knew I was gonna fall if she didn’t and brushed her fingers on my chin.

Fuck. Is like she read all of those stories about my perfect idea of a romance.

Then her lips brushed mine, and I knew that I couldn’t just keep waiting, so I pressed my lips on hers, starting an ungodly slow and awkward

kiss. My heart got out of my chest and crawled to her shirt pocket to stay there as long as she wanted; I wasn’t falling anymore; she got me, just like that. Just when I thought we were playing a game where I was the mastermind, she proved me to be just a pawn.

“Ellie?” The kiss ended, and the glimpse of an embarrassed Ellie in front of me made my whole week better. Just until I heard my name in the same questioning tone said by the same person. Seems like our friends had found us.

“Man, I knew you said you liked her when I showed you her Instagram, but didn’t think it would make you change your mind and come to the town fair…”

Oh?

Oh.

OH.

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