The sun was merciless.
Althea swore it was personally mocking her, dangling high above with a smug, burning grin as she stood outside her room, waiting for Max to finally appear. The summer morning was barely past ten, but the air already carried a heavy warmth that clung to her skin like an unwelcome touch. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her sandals scuffing against the pavement, as she muttered under her breath about how this was entirely Max's fault.
He had called her at eight a.m. Eight in the morning, for heaven's sake. His voice urgent, demanding she get ready immediately. No explanations, no details, just a breezy, "Get dressed. Casual. I'll pick you up in twenty."
She had stared at her phone screen in disbelief for a solid sixty seconds, her hair sticking out like a bird's nest and her pillow still warm. She had half a mind to ignore him. But then, because Max had a way of pulling her into the chaos of his orbit, she found herself scrambling into light clothes, braiding her hair quickly, and muttering at her reflection about idiots who thought mornings were for anything other than sleeping in peace.
Now, an hour later, she was standing under the punishing sunlight, swiping at her forehead with a handkerchief.
"If he doesn't show up in the next five minutes," she growled to herself, "I swear I'll—"
A loud honk cut through her threat. A sleek black car pulled up, and Max leaned out of the driver's window, sunglasses perched on his nose, his smile wide and infuriatingly pleased.
"Good morning, kiddo," he drawled, tilting his head as though mocking her. "Or should I say… grandma? You look like you're about to commit murder."
Althea glared. "You dragged me out of bed for this. If this isn't worth it, I'm throwing you into the sun."
He chuckled, unfazed. "You'll thank me later. Come on, it's carnival day. Don't ruin the mood before it even begins." She slid into the passenger seat with exaggerated annoyance. "Carnival. In this heat? Brilliant idea, Max. Really genius. Were you born without sweat glands or something?"
He grinned, starting the car. "Nope. But I was born with a high tolerance for whining, apparently."
Her jaw dropped. "Excuse me?"
"I mean, look at you," he said with a dramatic sigh, as if he were enduring a great burden. "We haven't even gotten there yet and you've already complained about the sun, the morning, and my existence. Triple kill."
She smacked his arm lightly. "You're insufferable."
"And yet," he said smugly, "you still got in the car."
She huffed and crossed her arms, but a reluctant smile tugged at her lips. It was always like this with Max, irritation tangled up with amusement, annoyance that slid too easily into laughter.
The carnival sprawled out before them like a painted dream once they arrived. Bright banners flapped in the breeze, music floated through the air, and the scent of fried food and spun sugar wrapped around everything. Children darted between rides, their laughter ringing loud, and the metallic creak of the Ferris wheel turned steadily in the background.
Althea shaded her eyes with one hand, muttering, "It's too bright. My soul is melting."
Max snorted. "You're dramatic. You look fine." Then he paused, his gaze flicking to her flushed cheeks. Concern edged into his voice. "You sure you're okay in this heat?" She waved him off. "I'm fine. Don't get soft on me now."
But Max didn't seem entirely convinced. His hand brushed against her back lightly as they entered, guiding her through the crowd.
The first stall they stopped at was the shooting booth, rows of tin cans stacked in pyramids, a man yelling about prizes, and toy rifles lined up. Max's eyes lit up with boyish competitiveness.
"Oh, this is perfect," he said, grabbing one of the rifles. "Watch and learn, Althea. I'm about to show off."
She raised an eyebrow. "What are you, twelve?"
"Mentally? Sometimes," he shot back, grinning. "But hey, I'm good at this. Prepare to be impressed."
The man running the booth handed him a few pellets. Max lined up the rifle, narrowed his eyes dramatically, and fired. Clink! The first can toppled.
Althea clapped slowly, deadpan. "Wow. Incredible. One whole can. Truly legendary."
He smirked, fired again, and knocked down two more.
"See?" he said proudly. "Sharp shooter. I could win you that giant teddy bear over there."
Althea tilted her head at the enormous stuffed animal looming in the corner. "Where would I even put that? It's bigger than my bed."
"Fine," Max said, pretending to pout. "You're impossible to impress."
She took the rifle from him suddenly, surprising him. "Step aside, cowboy. Let me try."
Max folded his arms, grinning. "Oh, this I have to see."
Althea bit her lip, aimed carefully, and… missed entirely. The pellet clattered against the wood harmlessly.
Max doubled over laughing. "Oh no. Oh no, no, no. That was tragic."
She shot him a glare. "Shut up. It was my first try!"
"Your aim is so bad the can probably feels sorry for you," he wheezed, tears in his eyes.
Althea smacked his shoulder with the rifle butt. "Keep talking and I'll aim at you next."
He chuckled, catching her wrist gently to steady her. His hand was warm, his touch grounding, and for a fleeting second, the playful energy between them shifted. He leaned closer, murmuring near her ear, "Want me to show you how to hold it properly?"
Her breath caught. She forced a roll of her eyes to cover it. "You're enjoying this too much."
"Of course I am," he said with a crooked grin.
They wandered further after Max managed to win a smaller plush, a lopsided duck and proudly shoved it into her arms. "There. A token of my greatness."
Althea stared at the duck's uneven stitched eyes. "…It looks possessed."
He smirked. "Perfect match for you then. Twins"
She gasped, half-laughing, half-outraged. "You're awful!"
And, somehow, she found herself laughing with him under the blazing sun.
End of Chapter 52.