Chapter 3

The sun was bleeding out over the horizon, painting the sky in bruised shades of violet and orange, reflecting off the churning saltwater below. The boardwalk was still buzzing, though the energy had shifted from the frantic peak of afternoon to a slower, heavier rhythm. Strings of Edison bulbs above us flickered on, casting long, warm shadows against the weathered wooden planks. The air smelled of fried dough, stale beer, and the sharp, clean tang of the ocean. It was a intoxicating mix, but all I could smell was him. We had separated from the main group, slipping away toward the quieter end of the pier where the carnival games sat idle, their colorful prizes hanging limp in the fading light. The noise of the crowd was a dull roar in the background, a white noise that seemed to isolate us in a bubble of our own making. I walked a few steps ahead of him, my heels clicking rhythmically against the wood, trying to maintain a distance that felt safe, or at least, pretend to be safe. But the space between us was charged, thick with everything we hadn’t said all day. I stopped at the railing, gripping the