So Over My Head (2 page)

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Authors: Jenny B. Jones

Tags: #Christian/Fiction

BOOK: So Over My Head
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“I’m not doubting your writing skills.” Luke claps as the magician leaves, and Betty the Bearded Lady bows before starting her performance.

I’m transfixed by the hair on her face, and it suddenly makes me feel a whole lot less self-conscious about the fact that I didn’t shave my legs last night. The audience claps in time to the spirited music as the woman’s collie jumps through her hula hoop, then dances to the beat on its hind legs.

I shoot a pointed look at his old flame. “Let’s talk about this later.”

Ashley reaches around me and puts her hand on Luke’s knee. “I forgot—I have my latest assignment on my laptop in the car. You told me to spice up my verbs, and I revised it. I wanted you to look at it.” She returns to clapping for the Bearded Lady.

“Yes, Luke. She wants you to check out her spicy
verbs
.”

“At least she takes constructive criticism well.” His voice is just low enough for me to hear.

“That girl wants you back. Period.”

“I’m not Hunter. And I’m not your dad.”

“I have to go interview Betty the Bearded Lady.” And I stomp down the bleachers to find her trailer outside. When I glance back, Ashley has scooted down. And taken my place.

chapter two

T
he April night air smells of animals, popcorn, and a hint of rain. I feel like a storm is brewing in my head. Luke is such an egotistical jerk sometimes. Is he really so blind he can’t see what Ashley’s up to?

“Betty?” I knock on the trailer that has her face painted on the side. Speaking of gross. If I had a face full of fur I don’t believe I’d be going on the road with it. Maybe I should give her the number of a good waxer in Manhattan.

The door swings open and bangs into the metal trailer. “Yeah?”

“Um . . .”
Focus on the eyes. Not on the whiskers
. “I’m Bella Kirkwood. I contacted the owner of the circus about interviewing some of you guys. I’m doing a piece for the—”

“Get in here, you.” She pulls me up the short steps and hugs me to her ample bosom. “I haven’t been interviewed since 1995, when I accidentally set my face on fire after I had to fill in as the human cannonball.” She closes the door and points to a seat. Her collie stands at attention beside her.

Her living quarters are small and dim, but clean. As I take a seat on a gingham cushion beneath her table, I get a sniff of Pine-Sol and discount store candles.

“Would you like something to eat?” Betty opens a small fridge and extracts a pie that is topped with about two feet of meringue. “I tend to bake on the road. The rest of the crew practices, but it’s not like my tricks take much work. Old Peg never fails, do you girl?” She makes kissy noises toward the dog and places the pie on the table.

As she slices into her creation, I think about hygiene and stray hairs. But this is pie, and I don’t want to be rude. I need info for the article, after all.

Betty reaches behind her to grab two forks, and I allow myself to really look at her.

And it’s just as bad as I thought.

But beneath the hairy face are kind eyes that twinkle and make me feel instantly welcome. A mouth permanently poised in a smile.

I take my first bite and savor the flavor on my tongue. The woman can bake like a dream.

Pulling out my notebook, I get down to business. “I understand the carnival comes to Truman every year.”

“Yes. We normally don’t set up the midway while we’re here, but Red wanted to. Seems like a waste of money to me, but he doesn’t seem concerned with that.” She purses her lips. “Pointless.”

“It is an unusual setup you guys have. My stepdad says you always spend early spring here in Truman.”

“Yep. It’s a tradition started by the original Mr. Fritz. We travel through Florida in the winter, then take some time off in April and May to regroup and learn new tricks. It’s not always a profitable approach, but this carnival’s always been about quality and uniqueness. So it works.”

“How long have you been living the circus life?” I ask.

She blots her own mouth, and I can’t help but stare at her face again. “About twenty-five years. I’m the oldest one in the show. High school wasn’t exactly a good time for me, and I dropped out at sixteen and thought my life was over. Then Old Man Fritz saw me at one of his shows and asked me if I’d like to be a star.” Betty chuckles at the memory. “I told him I would indeed like to be a star. I worked for him, then when he retired, I worked for his son.” Betty’s eyes lose some of their gleam. “Then when Junior Fritz and his wife, Shelly, were tragically killed last year, I stayed on to work for Red Fritz.”

“Junior’s older brother.” I had done my research.

“Yes. He has custody of Junior Fritz’s daughter, but she stays with me in my trailer. I’m kind of the carnival mom.” She smiles and grabs a picture off the counter. “Cherry is twelve, soon to be thirteen. I took over homeschooling her when her parents died.” Betty shakes her head. “That kid means the world to me. I would do anything to protect her.”

“I’m sure it can be dangerous sometimes on the road.”

Betty laughs, but her eyes dim. “Sometimes it doesn’t matter where you go—the trouble seems to pack up and move with you. But nothing’s going to happen to Cherry.” She settles the frame back in its place. “Not on ol’ Betty’s watch.”

I quickly scribble down her words and try to get her back on track. “Tell me about life with the carnival. Is it just like one big family here?”

Betty absently strokes her dog’s ear, sending Peg’s dog tags to clanking. “Family? There are some of us who are mighty close. But others”—her hand stills—“you’d rather have as far away from you as possible.”

“But I’ve been watching the show. You guys seem to be having such a good time—like it’s one big party.”

“Trust me, kid. In the carnival life, things are
not
always what they seem.”

Before I can prod further, a knock on the door has Betty standing.

The ringmaster and owner, Red Fritz, pops his head in. “Three minutes ’til the second act. Get a move on.”

“I know what time it is.” Betty fluffs her hair, turning her back on the man. “I’m doing two appearances in the program tonight, so I have to scoot. Why don’t you come back after the show, Miss Kirkwood, and we’ll finish this conversation?”

“I think that time would be better spent minding your own business and coming up with a new routine for the dog here. People are getting bored with all that stupid stuff you do,” Red says.

“My dog is a crowd pleaser, and you know it.”

Red Fritz narrows his eyes. “If your fuzzy face isn’t out there on time, it’s coming out of your pay. Again.” With a parting glance at me, he slams the trailer door.

When Betty turns around the smile is back in place. “Forget him. Now, let’s walk back together, shall we? I have a great story about a clown mishap I can share as we go.”

A flash of blonde in the distance catches my attention. “I’ll catch up with you later, Betty. I need to check out something in the parking lot.”

My feet press into the gravel path, and as Ashley’s car becomes more visible, so does its owner. My stomach drops like the floor in the gravity barrel out on the midway.

Under the streetlights, I watch my nemesis wrap her arms around Luke and seal her mouth to his. His hands move to her wrists.

“Working on a new story?” I cross my arms over my chest and feel the fire beneath my skin.

“Bella!” Luke shoves Ashley away. “I—I didn’t—”

“Know I was standing here? Obviously.”

He steps toward me. “It’s not what you think. I wasn’t kissing her. I—”

“It’s my fault,” Ashley purrs. “We got to talking about old times, and I got carried away. Don’t blame Luke.”

Yeah, she looks real contrite.

Humiliation and hurt battle in my head. “Forget it. I have work to do.” I walk away as fast as my shaking legs will move.

“Wait.” Luke runs to catch up. His hand clasps my arm. “Bella, hold up.”

I round on the boy, my eyes flashing. “And you said it was all in my head—that she wasn’t chasing you. Now is my idea so crazy?”

“Ashley didn’t mean it.”

I blink. “You’re taking up for her?”

“No, I—” He sets his jaw and stares at the ground. “This is what you’ve been waiting for, isn’t it? You’ve just been waiting for me to screw up—like all the other guys in your life.”

“Don’t turn this on me, Luke. You’re the one who had your lips plastered to a girl who is
not
your girlfriend.”

“I was pushing her away.”

“I can’t work with her. I
won’t
work with her. I want Ashley off the newspaper staff.”

He reaches out again, but drops his hand. “You know I can’t do that.”

“Then we’re through. It’s her or me.”

“There’s no choice here.” His voice snaps with electricity. “Ashley’s not going to do anything like that again. I’ll make sure of it. But she stays on the paper. I can’t fire someone for attempted kissing.” He steps so close I can’t help but breathe in his earthy cologne. “You know I would never cheat on you.”

I watch an airplane soar through the night sky. “I need some time.”

“For what?”

I bite the inside of my cheek. “Time to figure us out . . . and time to get that image of you two out of my head.”

“I know you’re mad. You have a right to be. But this boils down to trust—you either trust me or you don’t.”

I slowly nod and look into the face of the boy I’ve waited for all year. “I guess right now I don’t.”

Luke stares past me to the big top. “This is really what you want? Because it seems to be like you’re just running scared instead of dealing with what happened—with us.”

Pain gives my words a biting edge. “I know it’s a big blow to your ego, but I really think a break would do us both some good.”

He takes off his glasses and nods. “Good luck with your interview. And your space.” Hands stuffed in his khakis, he walks away.

Leaving me standing in the midst of a hundred cars. And one broken heart.

I return to the main tent just as Alfredo the magician is working his way out of some chains. Soon all of them fall, and he’s left with nothing but a pair of handcuffs. Finally they, too, drop to the ground, and the audience goes wild. But right now the man could completely vanish, and I wouldn’t be impressed.

“And now ladies and gentlemen, feast your eyes on the lovely Cherry Fritz, our reigning princess of the trapeze!” Red Fritz waves his arms grandly toward the ceiling as a young girl flies through the air.

Ugh, men. Who needs them? There’s my cheater ex, Hunter, my dad who is planning a wedding even though he’s the last person on the planet who needs a wife. And my stepdad? Life majorly changed when he won a professional wrestling reality show. Like having a stepfather who wears spandex on a regular basis isn’t stressful enough. Where are the normal guys? I thought Luke was one of them. He’s cute in that Clark Kent, Abercrombie sort of way. He’s freakishly mature and smart. And he’s not just a nerdy brainiac— he’s even the captain of his soccer team. I thought I wanted nothing more than to be his girlfriend. Ever since I arrived in Truman this fall, we’ve been drawn together like two magnets. But tonight his magnetism’s pulling in one too many girls.

Feeling absolutely miserable, I sit through the rest of the show. A guy walks on a tightrope. A girl does a handstand on a prancing horse. A small clown gets shot from a cannon. But all I can think about is Luke.

God, I’m right here aren’t I? Aren’t I the injured party
?

Before I know it, all the lights come up and people are exiting the bleachers. I sit for a while longer and watch the workers go into action sweeping, removing the animals, and clearing the grounds. Finally I gather my purse and head out back to Betty’s trailer. A breeze flutters over my skin, and I pick up the pace. Though I would never admit it to Luke, it is a little creepy out here now. Few cars remain in the parking lot, and I wonder at the sense of coming back here alone.

I pass two smaller trailers before coming to Betty’s bigger one. The door hangs open, and light spills out.

I knock on the swinging door. “Betty? Hello?”

No answer. I stand on the step and knock louder. “Betty? It’s Bella!”

Nothing.

Then my ears twitch at the tiniest of sounds. A distant whim-per. An animal. From the back of the trailer.

“Betty?” I step inside just as her collie leaps out. “Peg! Hey, here girl!” I turn back to the trailer.

And feel my stomach drop to the floor.

My scream pierces the air.

Betty the Bearded Lady sits at her table, nose down in her pie.

And one shiny sword in her back.

chapter three

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