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Blackpool. ShaughnBlair.

As the adrenalin rushes through my body, the ringing sound in my ears, created by that same old irritating fairground music disappears at the sight of ‘it,’ ‘The Pepsi Max Big One!’

“Not until you have finished your ice-cream,” I hear mum yell, standing on the tip of her toes, anxiously trying to see my small body over the rushing crowds. In an emotional explosion of anger, I throw my half – melted, raspberry sauce smothered, hundreds and thousands covered, ice – cream towards the ride. The sticky missile lands in a gap on a large, rusted grey box. All of the high pitched music comes crashing back when I notice the sign on the box. ‘Danger! Seven thousand volts.’ Luckily for me, mum hasn’t seen my outburst. However, I can’t keep in my thoughts. ‘what if this happens?’ ‘What if that happens?’ “Oh Shaughn, just forget about it, it will be fine!” mum states, firmly. She isn’t shouting, but I can tell from her now purple forehead, and the veins on her neck, that she is furious.

Standing in line for the ‘Teacups’, so my little sister can experience a ‘mad rush of adrenalin’ is tense. Every time I see the huge, red roller coaster go to its highest point, my heart pound like a drum. That drum trying to be heard over a crowd of 30,000 people. My whole day will be ruined by one clumsy mistake. Every time I hear a scream, I ferociously twist my snap my neck around, and take a long, firm glance at the ride. Then I hear them; those words I was dreading to hear: lets go on the Pepsi Max now.
“I’m starving though,” I exclaim, almost feeling my extremely bloated stomach drag the words back down my throat.

“Next please,“ shouts the stout female from behind the counter of the ‘Snack Shack,‘ a portable food van, trying to make her voice heard over the balling crowds. All of the ghastly, grease packed, salt stuffed images of the fat bulging burgers on the board behind the woman make my stomach wrench.
“I’ll have chips please,” a manage to say, pulling the words from my voice box. I ate about five of my salt and vinegar smothered, brown sauce smothered chips and threw the rest at the already protuberant seagulls.

In a daydream, following my mother, I am aware of a large, luring presence linger above me. I grit my teeth, tense my muscles and look up at the large unsavoury object and dead ahead stood the Pepsi Max. “Go and see if you are tall enough,” mum calls to me softly, pointing at the cardboard cut-out of a can of Pepsi that states, ‘ you must be taller than me to ride.’ Gingerly dragging my feet towards the unusual sign, my heart pounds, and I hope that it is growing to grow three feet in size. “Oh no,” I state, sarcastically when my mum tells me I am just to small. Unfortunately for me, the man in the ticket box was in a good mood today. “On you go son,” he says, winking at me with one eye.

Sitting in the red and blue rusty cart, the smell of burning oil is overwhelming. The ground starts to shake, and so do my knees. The cart fires out from the stand, like a bullet from a revolver. Screaming at the highest pitch my voice will let me, I feel 20 odd eyes drawn towards me. What makes it more embarrassing is that the ride is only going around five miles per hour. As I reach the top of the croaking ride, my heart stops, my eyes close and my hands grab anxiously on to the metallic safety bar. Strangely, the ride comes to a complete halt at its highest point.

Twenty-three minutes have passed by and nothing happens. Droplets of rain start to hit my chalk-white face; droplets turn in to a shower; a shower turns into a down-pour and a down-pour turns into a treacherous storm. I hold my jacket over my head. It blows from my grasp and is pinned to the drenched floor below. A creaking sound is heard above the howling wind. The floor or the rain drenched starts to vibrate and a huge gasp of relief is heard. As the ride pushes against the wind, the flashing lights from the fairground below become more apparent as the carriage crawls over the peak. While the ride speeds up, the pain of the rain hitting off my face increases and so do the screams. The vibrating below eventually fades away as the station approaches. A loud hissing noise echoes around the station as the airbrakes are released. “lets just stick to the teacups,” I humorously say to mum.

As the adrenalin rushes through my body, the ringing sound in my ears crated by that same old irritating fairground music fades away at the sight of it. The road home. thank you .

KEEPING THE GIRL

Jacob tugged impatiently on Nikolai’s arm, trying to turn him to face the front of the room.
"Look," he hissed. "There she is! I told you, didn’t I?"
Nikolai stared, frozen. He couldn’t even manage a response, which Jacob seemed to understand. He had become kind of rigid himself.
Walking into the room was the most striking, eye-catching girl Nikolai had ever seen. She was tall, about five foot nine, and she looked like an angel as she entered the room. Snow blew in behind her, swirling around her white dress, and Nikolai felt his heart jump as a whirl of wind caught her silver-blonde hair and threw it around her face, like a halo of light. She closed the door, smoothing down the thick (yet somehow feathery-light) mass of hair and looked around. She caught Jacob’s eye and smiled, causing Nikolai to notice both her deep, amber eyes and her petal pink lips. She began winding her way towards them, her skirt flowing around her calves, and Nikolai felt his heart begin to thump. She reached them, smiling.
"Hello, Jake." Wind chimes began playing in Nikolai’s ears, and he looked around stupidly, until he realized that the beautiful noise was her voice.
"Hi, Arianna." Jacob cleared his throat. He seemed to be nervous, but it was nothing to what Nikolai felt. His heart was ringing in his ears, his palms were sweating, and he could feel his blood coursing through his veins. He was truly in awe of such a beauty.
"Arianna, this is-"
"Nikolai," Nick quickly interrupted. "I’m Nikolai." He held out a hand, and when she shook it, he thought he would pass out. Her skin was cool and smooth and she felt so delicate that he wanted to put her in a protective case.
"What a beautiful name," she responded, smiling at him.
"Your name is quite beautiful in itself," he answered, surprised that he could even talk when she was merely three feet away. "What does it mean?"
"It’s Italian. It means ‘holy’." She blushed slightly, and a rosy glow so lovely spread across her cheeks that Nikolai almost sighed weakly in awe.
"Beautiful," he breathed, not daring to tear his eyes away from her face in case he missed even one moment of her beauty.
"What does your name mean, Nikolai?"
Jacob huffed quietly at their side, seeming put out at their exclusion of him. He muttered something about a drink and shuffled off, his big, muscular back flowing under his shirt and blonde hair shining in the light.
"It means ‘victory of the people,’" he replied, blushing. "It’s Greek."
"What a strong name," she said, still smiling.
Nikolai gestured to a couch. "Would you like to sit?"
Arianna stared at him. He blushed, feeling that he had made some mistake. But what he didn’t notice was her eyes sweeping his smooth, dark skin, his bright, warm brown eyes, and his midnight, wavy curls. He didn’t see her glance down at his muscular torso, clearly visible through his tight red T-shirt. He didn’t watch her take in his long, muscular legs encased in stonewashed denim, or notice her evaluate his uncertain, breathing-taking smile. She blushed, her mind racing and her heart pounding.
"Yes, let’s," she said, after what seemed like hours. Nikolai held out a hand to help her, and when their fingers touched, a current of electricity sparked Arianna’s hand. She looked up at him, thinking of nothing but his heart-stopping beauty, and he sat next to her, so close next to her, not yet releasing her hand.
When he did let go, Arianna felt the spark go out, like a light switch had been flipped off.
They talked for hours, about anything and everything. Nikolai told her of his family and his friends, while Arianna spoke of her best friend and her mother, the only people she really had as a family. They went on and on, uninterrupted by anyone- they seemed so deeply into each other that it was obvious they wished to be left alone.
At a quarter to midnight, Nikolai cleared his throat, smiling at her ruefully. "Well, it’s getting pretty late," he began.
Arianna checked her watch. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "We’ve been talking for over four hours!" She blushed as Nikolai smiled at her.
She touched her face. "What?" she asked. "What are you smiling at?"
Nikolai brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Nothing. Just you."
Arianna felt her heart beating in a frenzy when he touched her. "What did I do?" she asked, her eyes glued to his face.
"You were just being yourself," he said honestly.
"I find it funny that you think you can say that after only four hours of knowing me, Mr. Kaligaris," she teased.
Nikolai laughed. "I know. But for some reason, I think I can, Ms. DeFiore, " he said honestly.
Arianna felt like her heart would burst out of her chest, and blushed even deeper when she realized that he must notice the heat rising to her face.
"Arianna, can I walk you home?" he asked seriously.
Outwardly, she smiled, but inside, she was jumping up and down in excitement. "I would like nothing better, Nik