My heart ached for little Ruby. She must have been one of those kids whose parents were so high-powered and ambitious that they kind of forgot they even had a kid. It sort of made sense that they were off on holiday without her now. I opened my mouth to tell her that I knew what it was like to have a mum who couldn’t always be there for you. Even if my mum would want to be if she could. Then with a jolt, I caught myself. How had I let my guard down so easily? I’d only just set new rules for myself and there I was about to break them immediately and invite doom right into my life. I would need to be a lot more careful than that. I could practically see her bleeding-heart reaction if I’d said what I’d been thinking. She’d feel so sorry for me. I felt sorry for her and I wasn’t even the type to get on that way.

“The important thing is, can you still do a cartwheel?”

Ruby blinked, probably expecting a different response. I buried my guilt as she buried her surprise.

“Actually I can,” she said, recovering quickly and grinning at me. “And a backflip. And if you’re lucky I’ll show you how I can put my legs—”

The Ferris wheel started again with a lurch, bringing us toward the ground, and near a toilet. Then a groan, a creak, and a screech of metal on metal. The wheel shuddered to a halt and a girl in the next cart screamed.

I mean, of course the Ferris wheel broke down. When you gamble on living the rom-com life, sometimes you’re going to get to kiss the pretty girl and sometimes you’re going to face abject humiliation for comic effect.

A terrible feeling took hold of my body and I clenched every muscle.

“Are we . . . stuck?” Ruby leaned over the edge of the cart, her head practically hanging off the side and trailed off as panicked yelling reached our ears. One man screamed “I’m going to sue you!” and a child who was far, far too old for it started bawling loudly.

This was bad. Very, very bad. I looked around as if somehow the answer to my most pressing problem would appear out of thin air.

When Ruby’s head reentered the cart, she was beaming.

“This is so perfect,” she said, laughing, giddy with the thrill of it. Then she noticed my expression.

“Saoirse, what’s wrong? We’re totally safe.”

I shook my foot furiously and rubbed my thumb into the scar on the palm of my hand.

“How long do you think it will take to get going?” I squeezed the words out.

“I don’t know, but we’re going to be OK. Are you afraid of heights or something?” she said, her forehead crinkled in concern.

I hesitated. Then I nodded.