“Do you miss snow?”

“No, not as much as I thought I would. I like this kind of weather—cool, a little cloudy, a little rain.”

“I love this weather, too.” I run ahead. “Come on.” I dash out in the wet sand, then run back to avoid the waves. It’s my favorite game. Keep Away, Tristan calls it.

Mattie and I run forward and then backward, shrieking when a wave gets a little too close. I drop my cotton candy in the sand and a gull tries to snatch it. Mattie and I laugh. We spin in circles until we’re dizzy, and I remember the two of us balancing in our dad’s hammock, swinging back and forth, trying to position ourselves just right so we didn’t fall off. Behind us, the neon lights of the Boardwalk switch on, brilliant against the darkening sky.

“Watch out!” Mattie yells, but it’s too late. My brand-new, lime-green sneaker is soaked with icy water. I scream from the cold and shock and run up the beach. I collapse on dry sand like a wounded soldier, but instead of dying, I’m laughing. “Your new shoes,” Mattie says, plopping down beside me.

“They’ll dry,” I say. “But, wow, is that cold!”

We sit on the damp sand and I take off my shoe, squeeze out my sock. I balance my bare foot on Mattie’s knee. I wiggle my lime-green toenails. Around us, a chilly wind blows off the water. Her jacket makes a loud rustling noise as she zips it to her chin. The faint light of the moon peeks out from behind a cloud.

“My mom is coming home in a couple weeks,” I say. “She wants to invite Frank to Thanksgiving. Before he goes back to Colombia. Your family is invited, too.”

“That’ll be weird,” she says. I nod. We haven’t seen much of Frank Gómez. He took us hiking one weekend, which was nice. We talked about visiting him someday. But for now, he’s already packing his office and getting ready to return to the jungle. I think about his compass, the one that points him away from us. I wonder where mine will point.

“Look,” Mattie says. “First star.”

I stretch out on my back. I gaze at the light twinkling above us. Venus? Mars? If we hadn’t skipped the planetarium, I’d probably know.

“If you stare at a dark spot long enough,” she says, “you’ll notice another star. Every time I think there’s nothing there, another star appears.”

We lie on the beach and watch as more stars pop out one by one.

“Isn’t that Cassiopeia?” I ask.

Mattie’s eyes follow the direction I’m pointing. “Yep.”