They fell into silence again. Zack selected some upbeat pop music and belted out the lyrics. John joined him, and together they sang a warbling but evocative version of “Baby One More Time.” Next came “Billie Jean,” followed by some Spice Girls, and then half of NSYNC’s No Strings Attached album.

It wasn’t until Zack’s throat started to ache from singing that he thought to look out his window. As soon as he did, he gasped and checked his phone. They’d been driving for half an hour already.

“John, we’re in Beverly Hills,” he half stated, half asked.

“Don’t worry,” John assured him. “I know exactly where we’re going. I found the perfect, secluded spot to dump your body.”

Zack smacked him on the arm. “Very funny.”

John smiled. “We’ll be there in about twenty minutes. Just hold on a little bit longer.”

Zack mumbled grumpily but relaxed.

“Here,” John said, reaching behind Zack’s seat and pulling a magazine out of the pocket. “Read this if you’re bored.”

It was a copy of GQ. Zack laughed so hard his chest hurt. A bewildered John glanced between him and the road, asking him to explain, but Zack just wiped his eyes and texted Kira. She would get a kick out of that. Zack thumbed through the magazine and entertained himself by checking out the models and making lecherous remarks to John, who luckily seemed to find Zack as funny as he found himself.

Before Zack knew it, John was turning in to a huge parking lot. An attendant hurried up and, after John paid him, wrote a permit. He directed them toward an empty space beneath a tree. The sky was crystal clear, and the sun was out in full force. Zack almost couldn’t believe their luck at finding a spot with shade.

“So, where are—” He stopped short. He grabbed John and squeezed his shoulder just to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

They were at Santa Monica Pier.

The first thing Zack noticed was the Ferris wheel. The metal glinted like a faceted gem in the midday sun, stark white against the deep blue sky. Then slowly, other details trickled in. The Pacific Park sprawled along the pier in a spectrum of bright colors. Zack could pick out the famous West Coaster steel roller coaster, the game booths, and the blurry figures of people milling around. Over the crash of waves on the beach, he could hear the steady babble from the crowd: laughter, screams, and more.

Zack gaped. He hadn’t been here since he was a child. It was as huge and wonderful as he remembered. He fumbled with the door handle and jumped out of the car. He didn’t know how long he stood there staring, but at some point, something warm brushed against his arm.