Now, as she tugs my arm toward a booth, the feeling surges back like a tide. The carousel looks smaller, more weather-beaten, but still blinks rhythmically with familiar lights. The air is thick with fried dough and cotton candy, sharpening the ache of nostalgia.

"Where to first?" Nora's voice pulls me back. Her face, lit by neon, looks so untroubled it makes my chest hurt.

"I'll let you lead the way.” I gesture ahead, ignoring how my fingers tingle with the urge to reach for her hand.

We drift toward the cotton candy stand, and she stops, grinning mischievously.

"Really? Cotton candy? First up?" I chuckle, affection roughening my voice.

"You said lead the way." Her smile lights up her whole face, cracking my heart wider.

I hand over money for the pink cloud of sugar, and her genuine smile makes it feel like I've given her the world. We pick at it as we wander, the familiarity of our shared past easing the tension between us.

"Remember that summer we tried to sneak into the haunted house?" Her laughter is soft, tinged with nostalgia.

"How could I forget? You freaked out and we bolted through the emergency exit,” I tease, the memory of her trembling hand in mine still burning in my palm.

She bumps my shoulder, feigning indignation, the brief contact electric. "I didn't freak out."

"Nora, you screamed so loud they almost called the cops."

"They called the fire brigade instead." Her laughter rings out, clear as summer rain.

We approach the Shoot the Hoops game, and Nora's eyes light up with a dangerous spark I know all too well.

"You think you can still beat me, Nathaniel?" The challenge in her voice makes my pulse quicken.

"I don't think—I know." I take the basketball from the attendant and pass it to her, our fingers brushing briefly. "Ladies first."

She takes the shot. It bounces off the rim.

I sink my shot perfectly.

"Lucky shot," she grumbles, though her mouth twitches into a smile.

We trade shots back and forth. I make three more while she manages two but misses her final one. The competitive energy between us builds with each throw.

"Oh, did I just win?"

"You don't play fair, Nate Sullivan." She crosses her arms, her tone playful yet accusing.

"You have no idea,” I smirk, watching her cheeks flush pink.

"Do you want the truth?" I lean closer. "You've always sucked at this game."

She gasps and slaps my arm. "I used to kick your ass at this when we were kids!"

"To be fair, you and Jake were both equally terrible. Ollie and I used to let you win to avoid the meltdown on the way home."

Her eyes narrow. "Has anyone ever told you you're like the human version of period cramps?"

I laugh, surprised by the genuine joy of it. She grins, knowing she's scored a point.

"Cheer up, Leni. You've got a whole year to practice."