And there’s no way this is possible, but I feel like Bri’s a ringer.

Within seconds of the music resuming, it’s clear this is not her first ugly-dancing tournament.

Nope. She’s a pro among amateurs.

Wouldn’t surprise me at all to find out she’s an ugly-dancing hustler who roams from city to city, town to town, baiting the unsuspecting into challenging her to a dance duel, fooling them into upping their wager, only to dance them down in the dusty street, the sheriff, the townspeople, helplessly looking on.

Which is to say, Bri’s ugly-dance annihilates every last one of us.

She is the ugly-dancing champion of . . . Elytown beach.

Q keeps calling her his dancing queen, which is only more proof he was born in the wrong century, but what do I know?

We all take turns spending a few minutes alone with Q. And every time he walks away with someone, I’m not gonna lie, I get nervous.

Afraid that we won’t get to talk before he goes away.

But then with about forty-five minutes left, Q motions for me to follow him down the beach.

“Don’t go too far,” Ms. Barrantes. “Or be too long.”

Q shakes his head. “We’ll be right over there, and we’ll be right back. Just gotta have a word with my friend.”

We walk about thirty yards toward the water and stop, our backs to everyone. The waves are less sloshy than when we first arrived. The sun lower in the sky.

“Yo, we’re cutting it close,” I say.

“Haha, you know I like to take my time, do things right.”

I smile. “This I know, yes. Among the many other things I know about you. Some of which I wish I didn’t know.”

Q laughs. “I gotta say, that worries me. You don’t exactly have the best track record for keeping secrets lately.”

“Wow,” I say, covering my mouth with my hand, in exaggerated disbelief. “Did you really just say that? Wow. You went there.”

Q shrugs, still laughing, and I can’t help but join in.

“So, listen, I had this whole speech written out last night. I wanted to be witty and clever when we talked. I wanted my final, private words to you to be the kind that stick with you forever, but . . .”

“Everything about you is gonna stick with me forever, Q.”

He forces out a smile. But his face’s heavier now. “I’m just gonna freestyle, if that’s cool? Yeah?”