"Really?" I ask, instead. Rhetorical questions are always good answers.
The thing is, I'm wondering now if this was such a good idea. Taylor keeps ogling Danielle, Isaac keeps whispering sweet nothings in Quinn's ear, and Zac's off trying to make friends with the mechanic trying to fix up the go-cart he's been eyeing since we first walked in. Me? I feel like a 6th wheel, if that's possible.
"It's fixed!" Zac yells to us. Taylor and Dannie appear seemingly out of nowhere. Isaac walks to a nearby trashcan and throws away the remainder of the hotdog he ordered. Zac bounds into the cart. He yells over his shoulder, "C'mon, Peet! It's time to boogie!"
I give him a quizzical look, then walk towards the cart he's selected. To save money and to have more rides, we're doubling up in the carts. I just barely have time to buckle in when he punches the accelerator and the go cart lurches forward.
Surprisingly, I have a good time - despite the numerous near-death experiences I have what with Zac driving. I finally manage to get him out of the driver's seat and myself in it instead. I grin and push down on the gas. I go a little bit slower than Zac did, mostly because I can't see. He's got his hands over my eyes and shouting over the engine, "AAAHHH!!! CAT ON THE TRACK!!!! FLYING SAUCER OBSTRUCTING YOUR WAY!!!! TURN LEFT!!! TURN LEFT!!!"
We're about halfway around the track on my third lap when the cart begins to sputter. Zac lets me go and looks at the cart. I pull to the side. "NOOOOO!!!!!" he shrieks, climbing out of the cart and falling out on the track.
"Zac, get up," I say, climbing out and trying to drag him off the track. "Somebody is gonna hit you."
He looks at me, writhing and trying to keep away from me. "You KILLED IT!!!!" he shouts, pointing his finger and running off the track. I roll my eyes and wave to the mechanic who is up at the main station. He sees me and goes back into the station. He soon reappears brandishing a toolbox. I sit down on the curb of the track, ignoring Zac pretending to have convulsions on the grass behind me. The mechanic gets out to me and begins to inspect it. The engine is smoking, I note.
"Oh, man," the mechanic drawals. "This isn't good." He looks at me. Zac has now crawled up beside me. "Kiddos, looks like your engine is dead. Want to go pick out another cart?"
Zac buries his face in my shoulder, faking sobs. "No," I say. "That's alright. Zac's grieving."
I help the mechanic push the go cart back to the main station, while Zac trudges along behind us weeping. While waiting for the others to finish, Zac and I sit on lawnchairs and eat hotdogs and chips - courtesy the kind people of Kart-World. Once Zac got over his grief for the go cart, he actually made for pretty decent coversation.
When the others finished up, they got more hotdogs and we loaded up into the Hanson van. I ended up talking with Zac again. The trip wasn't so bad; but was basically a flop for me. See? I even attempt to be a socialite and it doesn't work.
