The Ride of My Life | Teen Ink

The Ride of My Life

October 1, 2012
By acoppola BRONZE, West Boylston, Massachusetts
acoppola BRONZE, West Boylston, Massachusetts
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Ariana C
The Ride of My Life

With the sun’s rays beaming down on my skin, I could feel my body temperature rise. I looked at the people in front of me and the row of people behind me; is this ride really worth all this trouble? I wiped the sweat from my forehead and looked up at the cloudless sky. I checked my phone and saw that I have a few messages from him, but I have no intention of answering them. Why should I answer them? I didn’t do anything wrong! The line inched forward and the person behind me bumped into me, I could feel his sweaty body against mine; I should have gone to the water park.

Finally, I was at the front of the line; I could see the old strapless cart. I watched as the group ahead of me zoomed by at sixty miles per hour, clutching onto that single bar for dear life. I could picture him saying that this ride was dangerous and that we should go on a different one, but I don’t care what he thinks; I’m going on this ride if it’s the last thing I do. I heard the screams of the group on the ride. I saw them go down this huge drop, and the cart make a sharp turning making one unfortunate rider throw up her hot dog. I’m glad a vegetarian.

As the cart returned, I looked into the shocked and thankful faces of the riders as they climbed out of the cart. However, the cart filled up pretty quickly with eager teenagers like myself. A little girl sat next to me. How did this two foot girl get on this ride? Aren’t there height requirements? I looked around for her parents but had no luck. Then it started.
The cart lurched forward and quickly picked up speed. My long hair started to blow every direction in front of me. The little girl started to scream even though nothing really scary happened yet; this is why you shouldn’t be here. We went through a series of twists and turns that didn’t really scare me. I felt my phone start to buzz. I know it’s him, but I don’t know why I suddenly have the urge to answer it to hear his voice. The cart stopped, jerking all of us forward and slamming us back against our wooden seats. This would have been the time when I would clutch his arm, and blame him for making me do this. The cart slowly inched its way up this huge hill. If he was here with me, I would probably close my eyes out of pure fear, and he would reassure me that we will make it. He was always there for me when I needed him. I need him now.
We reached the very top of the hill. The cart stopped for a quick second, so we could take in the scenery. I could see the whole park, and even a ten year old boy going behind a bush. I felt the cart move towards the drop. I screamed bloody murder as we dropped. All I could think of was how furious I am. Some boyfriend he is! I’m sure he’s with her right now. How stupid does he think I am? I clearly saw the way they were looking at each other last Friday. He thought that I was too innocent and naïve to see the signs. Well for his information, he’s about as subtle as tornado in a trailer park.
The cart came to a complete stop once we came down the hill. Maybe I was too quick to excuse him; I don’t have any proof. No one is perfect. The cart quickly started again and this time faster than before. If nothing happened, then why is he trying so hard to convince me? I’m sorry; I thought this relationship built on trust. Sure it’s ok if he gets mad if I even talk to a different guy, but when the roles are reversed, I’m considered the crazy girlfriend. I hate him. I hate him when he gets all defensive. I never want to see him again.
I was so focused on my anger that I didn’t realize that the cart was returning back to where we started. The little girl got out of her seat, and ran into the arms of her older sister who is none other than Karen. Is she trying to rub it in my face more? She flashed her beyond bleached white teeth at me and waved.
“Hi Alex,” she said. She has no idea how much I want to punch her in the face. “Guess who I’m seeing later.”



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