Emmitt nods, but it’s as if my words go in one ear and exit the other, his eyes faraway as he stares out at the sea. I follow his gaze, taking in the Atlantic Ocean again. The water is ephemeral blue, glittering like diamonds in the blazing sunlight.

Sometimes, I forget how beautiful New York is. It’s easy to get caught up in the rush of the bustling city, but in the quiet moments, there really is something picturesque about this place.

Eventually, Emmitt wanders away and starts talking to the passengers, which makes me sit up in surprise. I cock my head, trying to hear what he’s saying. “...permission to photograph you.”

Oh. I blink, looking on as a little girl nods with enthusiasm.

Emmitt grins widely—God, that infuriating grin—in return.

For the next ten minutes, he goes to different passengers and asks if they’ll allow him to photograph them, and most of them readily agree. He even explains the contest to those who ask what the photos are for, and a few of the little kids wave eagerly at the camera, playing on the prompt. It seems he’s unaware I’m watching him, because some part of his facade drops. There’s something almost sweet about the way he talks to his photography subjects, infinitely more genuine than when he turned on the charm for the girl at Auntie Anne’s.

I can’t help but smile at the sight of a boy with his front teeth missing waving like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. It’s then that Emmitt turns his camera away from the boy and onto me.

Before my smile can slip, the flash goes off and the shutter sounds. My facial muscles are frozen for a moment, but my expression twists within seconds. “You didn’t ask me for permission, dickhead!”

Emmitt laughs. “You look good in the light, love.”

I huff in annoyance, but the knowledge that he’s never going to use that photograph comforts me.

A few minutes later, Emmitt shows up in my vicinity again, staring out the window with wide eyes. “Is that the Statue of Liberty?”

I glance over my shoulder, spotting the green figure in the distance. My hand itches toward my phone, to record in the same way Emmitt is taking photographs. This might be one of the last times I ride the ferry before I go off to college. “The one and only.”

Emmitt exhales, his expression caught between intrigue and...melancholy? “New York City is a wonder, isn’t it?”

I frown. His words aren’t that different from my earlier thoughts, but it’s weird hearing someone say it aloud. “I suppose.”