“I can see her wanting to sneak in, even for just one pull on a slot machine.”

“We have the fake IDs,” Willa says. “Do you think we should try?”

Taylor has always had to be coaxed into Finley’s more reckless schemes—jumping off the Cedar Point Causeway Bridge comes to mind—and now she sometimes wonders if that made her the boring friend. Willa and Finley came back from regattas with tales about how they “borrowed” an FJ at two in the morning so they could night sail on Indian Lake. Or how they had to drink water out of an old sailing boot as their initiation into the junior race team. The whole ordeal had made Willa vomit, but they’d still laughed like it was the coolest thing that had ever happened. The thing is, they’d never been caught, prompting Taylor to believe Finley was charmed and her good luck surrounded them like a bubble. Now that Finley is dead, Taylor can’t be sure she’s still protected.

“I don’t know,” she says finally.

They ride past a stretch of abandoned casinos, including the huge glass structure that seems to melt into the sky and the one that resembles the Taj Mahal, which strikes Taylor as odd, considering the real thing is a mausoleum. This end of the boardwalk creeps her out, and Taylor is relieved when they start seeing shops that are open and casinos lit up and ready for action.

Now the boardwalk reminds her of a permanent carnival midway with restaurants, souvenir stands, psychics, tattoo parlors, art galleries, and strip clubs (gross). There are shops selling “world-famous” fudge and saltwater taffy, and three piers jut out into the ocean—one with amusement park rides, one with arcade games, and even one with a shopping mall. Everything on the boardwalk is layered with age and wear, but through the lens of Taylor’s camera it’s all beautiful.

“You’re really good,” Willa says, watching a shot of the grand carousel develop.

“It’s the instant. The old-school border makes everything special.”

“Stop,” Willa says. “You have a good eye.”

Taylor’s cheeks warm at the compliment. Her parents are always heaping praise on her work and they have a couple of framed shots hanging in the living room. But they brought her into the world, so they’re predisposed to love everything she does. From Willa, it feels earned. “Thanks.”

She could spend the whole day taking pictures, but Taylor can tell Willa is getting restless to do something else. “Should we go on some of the rides?”

“Everything is so expensive.” Willa tugs at her lower lip as they look at the admission prices. The rides are priced by tickets, and some of the more thrilling rides cost seven tickets or more. “I left most of my money on the boat, and I don’t really want to pay ten bucks to ride one thing.”