The daylight was nearly gone when they motored into the anchorage at Pier 25. For Willa, navigating a darkened river full of tug-and-barge traffic and pleasure boats had been a white-knuckle ride. But the twinkling New York City skyline, towering up to the clouds was one of the most beautiful sights Taylor had ever seen. She was supposed to watching for boats that might be on a collision course with Whiskey Tango Foxtrot, but she couldn’t stop gaping at the reflection of the skyscrapers sparkling across the Hudson in colorful streaks.

Taylor has always dreamed of coming to New York City. She wishes she’d been alive during the heyday of clubs like CBGB and Fillmore East, so she could have seen all the bands from the record collection her dad gave her. She might be decades late to the party, but she’s here now and she wants to experience it all. “I’m so excited. Do I look okay?”

By the time they’d arrived at the Pier 25 mooring field, they barely had enough time to tie up the boat, pump up the dinghy, and row ashore to get ready for the concert. They’d encountered two days of solid rain traveling from Catskill—where they’d spent an entire day turning Whiskey Tango Foxtrot back into a sailboat—so everything Taylor owns is slightly damp and slightly wrinkled. But she managed to pull together an outfit of a black denim skirt that Finley had talked her into buying—“it makes your butt look amazing!”—and one of her dad’s vintage Rolling Stones T-shirt. It’s faded and paper thin after so many years of wear, but it’s her favorite.

“Super cute,” Willa says.

“You too.”

Back when they were in middle school, it became a thing to collect Converse high-tops in as many colors as you could—the more unique, the better. Taylor doesn’t remember how it even got started, but Finley had six pairs, including ones with Union Jacks on them. Taylor managed to sweet-talk her mother into buying her three pairs in fuchsia, orange, and yellow. Willa couldn’t afford new Converse, but one day she showed up at school rocking a pair of black lows she’d found at the Goodwill. She’d drawn stars all over them with a bleach pen that turned the black to a shade of orange that looked almost tie-dyed, and everyone lost their minds over how cool they looked. Taylor had been so jealous of those shoes, so jealous of the way Willa was able to turn nothing into something.