Chapter 10 - Is It Motion Sickness or Love Sickness?

They were on the Tilt-A-Whirl with Isaac for the third time that night, the spinning cart throwing Thomas's lithe body careening into Minho's in a way that the wolf probably would've really enjoyed if the minor pressure on his stomach didn't nearly push him over the edge and quite nearly make him lose today's, yesterday's, and tomorrow's lunches, when Minho finally convinced Thomas to try some of the more mild rides.

"So what I'm hearing is that you don't wanna ride the Hurltron 3000 next?" Thomas clarified reluctantly after the pair finally stumbled off the torture device disguised as a child's amusement park ride and left Isaac to scramble in line for what had to be the seventieth time that night.

"No." Minho moaned in utter agony, clutching his already sloshing stomach at the mere mention of such a horrible sounding ride and trying his best to focus on the still grass beneath his feet rather than the Tilt-A-Whirl beginning to roll into another round of twirling torment behind him.

"Fine. Fine. How about the ferris wheel? That shouldn't be too bad, right?" Thomas offered helpfully, pointing a finger at the huge ride in question, the thing being the tallest item in the whole fair by far and overlooking the other amusements with an almost benevolent feel about it.

"Yes." Minho huffed out gratefully, unable to produce more than simplistic one word answers in his current ill state but Thomas seemed to understand, pushing a shoulder against the boy's side to offer some support as the brunette began guiding them toward the enormous ride.

The line for the thing was surprisingly short but it still gave Minho just enough time to recover from his earlier nausea inducing experience enough to actually take in his surroundings somewhat. The wheel itself was huge, reminding him of the Maze walls in its enormity and giving him the impression that maybe that stone prison wouldn't have seemed so bad if they'd decorated it in technicolor strobe lights like this ride was smothered with. The colorful things flashed on and off in rhythmic patterns that changed color every few seconds to create images across the wheel, swirling, blinking spirals and exploding fireworks of radiance dancing along to a calliopy tune.

However, it was not the ride itself that caught Minho's attention so much as the scene below it. As the wolf, still leaning slightly against his companion even if he really didn't need to so much anymore, moved up to come to the front of the line he became increasingly aware that the only people getting on this ride were couples. Young girls giggled interestedly at boys' crappy jokes as their hands shyly brushed and their faces flushed to match the red of the neon lights, the blush almost hidden by the darkening sky but not quite enough to let it be missed. Two girls in line right before the Gladers clasped hands tightly as the ride operator slammed the door of their cart closed and moved back to put the machine in motion.

And here Minho stood with the oblivious boy he'd been pining after for months, still just as unaware of the teen's feelings as always and totally unobservant of the obvious awkwardity of their decision to get on a ferris wheel together. Yippee.

The ride conductor turned his back to the boys and flicked a few buttons before the metallic grinding of machinery rumbling to life could be heard and the wheel began to turn slowly and with purpose. The mechanical sounds reminded Minho of a Griever but the boy quickly pushed the dismal thought away with a slight shudder as a new cart rolled into place and a couple hopped out, each wearing goofy smiles and staring at one another with the blind adoration of young love as they stumbled away from the ride.

"That'll be six tickets." A familiar nasally voice informed as the ride operator turned around to face them and Minho recognized none other than the annoying brat who ran the ice cream stand in the park, though it was hard to recognize much of anything through the thick layer of acne still smothering the pubescent boy's unfortunate face.

Minho ripped off the given number from the long, winding strand of small blue tickets they'd purchased upon entering the fair and the teen had been declared the entrusted Keeper of the Tickets (Pun definitely intended, hardy har, Thomas) since his companion would've undoubtedly left them lying somewhere the moment they got inside.

"Thank you, sir." The Living Pimple Returns (the sequel to the ever popular blockbuster, Night of the Living Pimple) whined in his obnoxiously high pitched voice, his tone breaking on the last word as he took the required paper slips and pushed open the small plastic gate separating them from the cart. Ah, puberty must still be taking its toll.

Thomas grabbed Minho by the hand in his eagerness and tugged the internally imploding wolf through the barrier before the local acne sacrifice even had a chance to gesture them inside, not that that stopped the kid from sweeping his arms toward the car in an inviting gesture anyway as he was paid to do despite the fact that the passengers were already safely inside the cart and seated on the small plastic bench provided.

"Please keep your hands, feet, and all other objects inside the cart at all times." Puberty's posterboy read off a piece of paper he plucked up off the control board, his eyes scanning the words slowly and his finger following along to keep the lines straight in a way that made Minho question if this kid really had the required intelligence to be running this type of equipment. Apparently literacy had no correlation to the ability to pull a lever for the teen gripped a long black pole as soon as the words left his wire thin lips and tugged it downwards, causing the cart to shake once before slowly beginning to rise.

"Do you ever wonder how the others are doing? Frypan, Brenda, Jorge?" Thomas questioned softly as the ride started up and the lights began flashing to an upbeat, music box heavy tune as they were slowly lifted from the ground and began moving skywards at an agonizingly slow pace.

Minho winced at the question, particularly at the mention of Brenda who he'd kinda hoped to wipe his companion's mind of completely if possible. The girl had obviously had the hots for the brunette and the boy was never quite sure if the feeling was mutual as Thomas was always hard to read, no matter how open the kid tried to be. The boy was like a puzzle, confusing and impossible to understand yet fascinating at the same time, ensnaring the wolf's attention and making him want to solve that captivating puzzle piece by piece until he finally had the whole glorious picture put together to admire.

However, Minho was also a selfish child that didn't want anyone else to touch his puzzle and would gladly throw blocks, or more likely, fists, at anyone who dared try and, yeah, he most certainly did not want to talk about Brenda.

"Honestly, no. Not really." Minho admitted truthfully, he missed his old friends, yes, but he was here with Thomas and that's what mattered. "Do you?" The werewolf added reluctantly, not sure he actually wanted to know the answer.

Thomas looked thoughtful for a long moment as the ride continued its seemingly endless ascent, the ground become more distant by the second and the people below shrinking as if some impossible potion from a child's storybook had been poured on them. Alice in Whateverthefuck-Land? Yeah. Minho distantly remembered something like that.

"No." Thomas finally answered surely, sounding confident in his answer if not a little guilty as his hazel orbs moved from the quickly disappearing ground below to the endless horizon beyond.

"Not even Brenda?" Minho questioned hesitantly, unsure of why it mattered so much but needing to know what the boy thought of the girl.

"She was a good friend, kinda reminded me of Chuck in a way..." Thomas replied quietly but let his words trail off, his scent picking up a deep note of remorse at the mention of the youngest Glader who Minho knew for a fact the brunette blamed himself for the loss of. "But it's not like I was in love with her or anything." The teen finally finished, though he failed to brighten back up and Minho had the strongest urge to pull the boy into his arms and whisper reassurances to him until the younger male never blamed himself for Chuck's death again.

"Dude, are you kidding? She was all over you." Minho snorted, half to distract Thomas from his sudden blue mood, half to find out more about that "not in love with her," part of his friend's answer.

"Yeah but I don't know, man." Thomas replied hesitantly, obviously sounding as if he wanted to say more but looking uncertain until Minho bumped his shoulder lightly against the brunette's in an attempt to encourage him. "It just felt like, I don't know..." Thomas trailed off again as the ride nearly peaked, just a few minutes away from reaching the climax of its ascent.

"Like what?" Minho pressed as his companion failed to begin speaking once more, trying to keep his obvious interest from his voice as his heart rate betrayed him and picked up to the height of the wheel they currently sat upon. Thank fuck Thomas wasn't a werewolf because Minho was pretty sure the rest of the pack could here his skyrocketing pulse from wherever they stood amongst the other fairgoers that appeared to be miles below.

"Like it just wasn't right, you get me?" Thomas tried to explain carefully, looking unsure of his own words as if he himself hadn't quite figured them out yet either. "Every time she touched me, it was wrong. When she tried to kiss me, it was wrong." The teen tried to elaborate, looking frustrated as he couldn't quite seem to get his idea straight. "Like, the actions were right. The motions were right - But it felt all wrong. Almost like it was familiar but... " The brunette tried, sounding strained as his face scrunched up in concentration.

"Familiar?" Minho repeated, trying and failing miserably to prevent the words from catching in his throat as his mind instantly flew to the information Deaton had provided him with earlier.

"Yeah. Like, I felt like I wanted something like that..." Thomas started but then shook his head and rephrased. "No, had something like that and wanted it again...But... " The boy tried then let out an agitated sigh, leaning back against the cool plastic of the cart and tipping his head back - Minho would really like to not feel the urge to nip the pale skin revealed by the action while they were having a serious discussion like this, thanks.

"But?" Minho pressed nervously, unsure of why his face suddenly felt as flushed as the blushing lovestruck kids he'd seen stumbling off the ferris wheel earlier, maybe it was something about the ride. Yeah. High altitude! That was obviously the culprit here.

"It felt like it should be someone else." Thomas finally admitted softly, his voice dropping to a whisper and his gaze lowering, giving him an almost bashful look as he suddenly began avoiding Minho's searching gaze.

And, gods help him, Minho almost told Thomas then. Me, The boy wanted to say. You were mine, you've always been mine. The words were right on the tip of his tongue, so eager to spill over and flow freely from his lips.

"Would you think about me if I had went somewhere else?" Is what came out instead, because Minho was a fucking coward. God, he was a pony loving sissy, but he could not risk his friendship with Thomas. He couldn't.

"Yes." Thomas replied automatically as the ride finally peaked and Minho didn't press.

"Good. Me too." The wolf simply replied and his gaze followed Thomas's to where the sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon line, all liquid fire with ruby red clouds splattered across an ocean of orange radiance until it was cooled down by the mild, deep, and soothing purples of dusk slowly closing in on their warm wake.

In that brief moment, things were the closest Minho had ever gotten to perfect.

Then the ferris wheel rumbled to a jolting stop, the sound of power whining out of it slowly as the blinking lights illuminating the ride with their colorful and exciting beacons of radiance flickered once then died.