“Everyone totally lost it when they realized you were gone. Your dad was frantic.”

Nick nods. “Finally I sat down in a corner, next to a stray dog, and I tied that bracelet around my wrist and I used up all three wishes wishing I was home.”

I squeeze his hand.

“And then Billy Wong found me,” Nick says softly. “He said, ‘Hey, buddy,’ and he sat down next to me, and I recognized him as someone from the group, and threw myself into his arms. He just held me for a while. While I cried. He hugged me, and he said I was safe, and he said, ‘I got you.’ I never forgot that. And then he carried me back to my dad, even though I was kind of too big for that.”

I pull away. “No wonder you thought Billy Wong was the best.”

He sighs. “Right? I guess the moral of the story here is that a person can’t be summed up by a single action.”

I don’t know what to say to that, except, “Well, I’m glad he was there for you.”

“And I’m sorry he was there, for you.”

We stop dancing. Then, at that exact moment, the singer with the ponytail taps the microphone to get our attention. “And now the bride would like to dance with her father, while the groom dances with his mother.”

I immediately feel tears start to well up. I cast a desperate look at Nick, who also looks stricken. “Oh shit. We have to get out of here.”

He takes my hand and we just run, away from the reception, away from everybody, away, just away, until the grass under our feet gives way to sand and we reach the ocean. Nick takes off his jacket for me to sit on. Then he produces a rumpled tissue from his pocket. He hands it to me. “It’s clean.”

I dab at my watery eyes. “This trip is going to kill me.”

But then I look up. Away from the lights of the party, the sky has cracked open over our heads. I gasp. I have never seen stars so bright.

“It’s because there’s no light pollution,” Nick says as we gaze raptly upward. “We’re on a largely uninhabited island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. So everything’s very clear.”

“That feels like a metaphor,” I whisper.

He laughs. “I don’t know what it’d be a metaphor for, but it’s beautiful.”

“I could never paint this.” I close my eyes and breathe in the sweet salt air.

Nick takes off his shoes and socks and buries his toes in the cool sand next to mine. “You’ll just have to remember it.”

“I will.”

The breeze ruffles his hair. “Me too.”

This will be the beach I remember from now on, when I think of beaches. This beach and this night.

“Thank you,” I say.