Cupid's Prophecy

"I like your outfit."

I examine Dylan's colorful shirt and jeans, and right now he looks more like a kid than the actual children here.

"Thanks, I was kind of rushing so I didn't have time to ponder too much about it."

"I don't think an hour is rushing."

A chuckle escapes my lips, and he scoffs and brushes it off. He tried. And somehow that makes my heart beat a little faster…

Wrong. It wasn't his efforts, it was the screams of people coming from the super fast roller coaster in the distance.

"Those people sound like they're being tortured!"

"They got on the ride willingly, Clarissa- I've actually been on that one before, we can go on it later."

"What are we gonna do first?"

"Goldfish."

Well that doesn't sound too bad. We walk over to the game, and I can anticipate myself being a little competitive.

"What do I have to do?"

"You actually don't know?"

"No…"

I suppose even I'm shocked at my own lack of knowledge. For being so old I can't recall any pieces of media where a character has played a goldfish game at a carnival.

I don't remember any other children going to the carnival when I was young either, since they usually died of smallpox and scarlet fever.

"You try and throw these ping pong balls into the fishbowls."

My eyes gaze upon the colorful fishbowls… until I raise an eyebrow.

"Those aren't real goldfish."

"Animal welfare concerns."

"Ah."

"Do you think you can win?"

"Doesn't hurt to try, right? Not like I've ever played."

Clearly it can't be that hard though, right? Until I throw a couple balls and none of them land in the bowls.

"Dang it."

"Let me try."

"Please, can you even-"

Oh wow, Dylan managed to win a prize on his first try. A plush version of a fish. Nice.

"This is for you."

"What?"

It feels weird in my hands. Not the highest quality, but I can appreciate the effort it took.

"It'll be your emotional support plushy when we ride the roller coaster."

"Huh? Wait, what?!-"

He grabs my hand, and like an idiot I let myself be dragged to my doom.

"Oh, please spare me…"

"I am. For now."

My eyes open and I see us standing in front of a carousel. At least I know what that is.

"Pfft- I can ride a carousel, you know."

"That's literally why I brought you here."

"I see."

We wait for the ride to stop, and he helps me up on one of the horses. I don't need the assistance, but it sure is nice.

"Clarissa."

"What?"

A song begins to play and we start moving. I'm a bit embarrassed that we're clearly the oldest people here in a sea of children, but at least I'm not alone.

"I can't think of a good nickname for you, they all sound cheesy. So can I just call you Clarissa?"

"Yeah, sure. Why do you need to ask?"

"You didn't seem to like princess or angel, but you were okay with cupid."

My brain almost short circuits right there. He remembers? And he still asked me to come here?

"I didn't mean to have some sort of tantrum."

But I still want an explanation.

"I know, you were drunk."

Right…. not my best moment.

"Die."

"Huh?"

He looks at me confused, and I can't help my smirk. Dylan also helplessly smiles, and I reply.

"If you shorten your name to the first two letters, it sounds like "die". We were talking about nicknames, right?"

"Nobody calls me that."

"I won't either."

"How are you liking the ride?"

"It's slow, but then I get to talk to you."

"You don't mind the parents watching?"

"Surprisingly not."

My mind wanders, and for some reason the name is awkward between us, but I want to ask.

"Has Max ever ridden a carousel?"

"Hmm?"

Dylan thinks for a moment, and pulls out his phone. His photos app is organized into different folders, and I'm impressed.

"When he was in elementary school, I took him. He had never been to a carnival before, just like you- but he wasn't scared of any rollercoasters."

He hands me his phone and it's hard to believe he trusts me that much. I stare at a younger Max, smiling on the carousel in a selfie with Dylan.

I hand him the phone back with a slight smile. Above all, I'm still confused. He obviously considers Max to be his son. So is it just me he hates, and not the family I could've had?

Did I screw up a couple centuries ago without realizing it?

The ride stops, and we get off. I stare at the rollercoaster, and turn back to Dylan.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

I don't know.

"For how hard I'm going to grab onto your arm when we get on the rollercoaster."

"So you're up for it, huh?"

"You owe me after."

Dylan owes me his life after what I just experienced. I'm lucky it didn't go upside down, but it was still fast… but not fast enough to have gotten over it quickly.

"Whoo! That felt amazing!"

"Shut up."

He looks like a kid having a sugar crush? Probably the adrenaline or something.

"I'm hungry."

"Good thing I know just the place!"

By place he was referring to multiple, because we're sat at a table with a grilled turkey leg, a corn dog, a funnel cake, a churro, and I wish that was all the food because this is certainly a feast.

"You're acting like it's Thanksgiving! What do we need all this food for?!"

"I thought you said you were hungry."

His hand reaches for the turkey leg, and I slap it away fiercely.

"You're right, I am."

We go on a few less intense rides after the meal, but from eating so much I've become lethargic.

"I'm tired, Dylan."

"You whine a lot."

"I didn't even say it like that-"

He starts to leave, and I jump up, reaching for his shoulder.

"Where are you going?"

"To get cotton candy."

"Is there a gift shop?"

"... no."

"Aren't there any souvenirs we can get?"

"It's a carnival, not a theme park."

"I didn't realize there was a difference."

"The carnival won't be here in a few weeks."

That makes sense, I guess. I wait for him as he gets some cotton candy, and he eats while murmuring.

"But we should always cherish the temporary things, right?"

"Yeah-"

Wait, what? Why would he phrase that the way that he did? Are we temporary?! I'd start interrogating but he rests his head on my shoulder.

"I'm tired, Clarissa."

That impression of me wasn't too bad, as much as I hate to admit it.

Maybe I really should cherish whatever this is, before it's gone.

"Dylan?"

He's standing in front of my apartment, making sure I get here safely. It's quite chivalrous.

"Yeah?"

"I'll have fond memories of today."

"Have a good evening, Clarissa."

"You too."

I stare up at the ceiling in bed that night. I think I finally understand what he means.

This won't last long, I'm cupid and he's literally the anti-cupid. All that'll come from that is pain and resentment.

It's difficult to stop the thoughts of negotiation in my mind. How can I make it work, regardless of what might happen? How can I fix everything without hurting Dylan?

Have I really forgiven him that easily? Has he reduced me to such a person?

I have to make up my mind.

I can't be the victim this time. I only have myself, and I should see my plan through.