Foreman eyed Amber, suspicion vying with one very good reason to take her bet. "You bet? What kind of stakes are you going to back that up with?" he asked. If there wasn't a forfeit for whoever lost, it wasn't a real competition. Foreman supposed it could be something innocent: bragging rights, being the one to haul in all their prizes to the peds ward and get a pat on the head from Cuddy. But he'd be more invested if it was something spicier. He steadied Amber until they made it past the gravel and onto the clearer asphalt paths leading to the carnival entrance. Not that he'd let go just because Amber wasn't likely to topple over. "What do I get if I win?"
There was a small booth with a bored-looking guy handing out tickets. Foreman got out his wallet and paid for their entrance and, against his better judgement, enough tickets for the two of them to go on a few rides. Hopefully nothing more adventurous, or more publicly embarrassing, than the Ferris wheel. Foreman wasn't going to put himself in the position of being vomited on by a bunch of kids. He got that enough at work. "You owe me a corndog," he said, to stop Amber from insisting on paying her own way.
Once they were past the gates, there was a line of game booths stretching out in front of them, leading to the food kiosks and then the rides after that. Most of the signs urged them to defy death in the haunted house or lose themselves in the hall of mirrors, and everywhere there were kids running around, clutching balloon strings, chasing each other, and screaming--either in terror or sheer joy, Foreman didn't know which. There were a few teenaged couples, but it seemed like everyone else their age was attached to at least one kid, if not a whole group of them. Foreman and Amber were still dressed for work, and they stuck out like sore thumbs. Foreman shook his head and concentrated on the bet. If there was a payoff, then he could ignore the stares directed at them; he'd just spend the night watching Amber instead.
no subject
There was a small booth with a bored-looking guy handing out tickets. Foreman got out his wallet and paid for their entrance and, against his better judgement, enough tickets for the two of them to go on a few rides. Hopefully nothing more adventurous, or more publicly embarrassing, than the Ferris wheel. Foreman wasn't going to put himself in the position of being vomited on by a bunch of kids. He got that enough at work. "You owe me a corndog," he said, to stop Amber from insisting on paying her own way.
Once they were past the gates, there was a line of game booths stretching out in front of them, leading to the food kiosks and then the rides after that. Most of the signs urged them to defy death in the haunted house or lose themselves in the hall of mirrors, and everywhere there were kids running around, clutching balloon strings, chasing each other, and screaming--either in terror or sheer joy, Foreman didn't know which. There were a few teenaged couples, but it seemed like everyone else their age was attached to at least one kid, if not a whole group of them. Foreman and Amber were still dressed for work, and they stuck out like sore thumbs. Foreman shook his head and concentrated on the bet. If there was a payoff, then he could ignore the stares directed at them; he'd just spend the night watching Amber instead.