It turned out convincing Nikki to come to the carnival instead of going to Shem Creek was easier than I anticipated, although having an opportunity to stick her nose into whatever was going on with Brooklyn and I probably helped her decision. That, and the promise of funnel cake with extra powdered sugar.

Ella and Nikki had clicked in seconds, as soon as Cardi B came on the radio in Ella's tiny white Honda coupe, and the two made bad attempts to rap "Bodak Yellow." Brooklyn and I sat squished in the back seat, our knees and shoulders rubbing up against each other with every dip and turn Ella took, far too close to be comfortable. He didn't smell like citrus today, but something sweeter, like vanilla and sandalwood but still blended with the tangy, burnt scent of his cigarettes.

The carnival was already crowded even though night was just starting to creep into the sky. The setup took over the entire parking lot of the old Convention Center that bumped up against the harbor, with everything from a Ferris wheel and the Gravatron ride to cotton candy and popcorn machines spanning every free corner of the parking lot.

A soft breeze blew in from the harbor, and without the heat of the sun, it was goosebump inducing. Neon lights from the rides dotted the pavement as we walked along the side of the carnival where all the games were set up underneath faded white tents. Nikki and Ella walked a few paces behind Brooklyn and I, and every so often I could hear hushed whispers and silly giggling.

"I'm sorry, y'all have something to say?" Brooklyn called over his shoulder.

"I'm just trying to get some funnel cake!" Nikki shot back, which got Ella to laugh.

Brooklyn stopped abruptly and grabbed my arm, pointing at one of the football toss games.

"I'm doing that," Brooklyn said.

Ella scoffed. "You know there's other ways to stroke your ego," she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Lighten up, El," Brooklyn replied, and before Ella could respond, he pulled me in the direction of the booth.

It seemed to be a typical football toss carnival game: two rubber-lined hoops hung suspended over a cheap replica of a football field. Then a third hoop hung behind them, half the size of the other two, slowly swinging back and forth. All carnival and boardwalk games were the same, designed to sucker people in by making it seem easy enough at first, giving unsuspecting patrons a false sense of confidence. But the last shot was always impossible to make, so people would throw more money down on the table and try again, always hitting the first two and never making that final shot. Eventually they'd walk away defeated, with no stuffed teddy bears and an empty wallet.

The kid running the booth couldn't have been older than 17. His shaggy blonde hair flopped into his face, which was turned downwards, engrossed in his phone. He looked up at us with a deadpan expression.

"If you can hit all three shots, its free," he said with a shrug.

Brooklyn smirked and elbowed me. "What do you want?" he asked, gesturing up to the array of large stuffed dogs that sat on a shelf behind the kid's head.

I raised an eyebrow. "You haven't even thrown a ball yet. Besides, you weren't even a quarterback."

Ella groaned. "This is so stupid," she said with an exasperated sigh.

"Shut it, El!" Brooklyn snapped.

He picked up the first ball and without hesitation placed his hand right where it needed to be, thumb on the bottom seam and his fingers in between every other white lace at the top. In one fluid, effortless motion he drew his arm back and threw the ball in a perfect spiral, hitting the first hoop without even touching the rubber rim. He was good, and I should have anticipated that.

I glanced over at Ella, her arms still crossed tightly over her chest. Her sharp features were twisted in annoyance, her nose wrinkled and her mouth pinched into a thin line.

Brooklyn picked up the final ball with a grin. I tried to follow his eyes as he watched the final hoop swing like a pendulum. He threw the ball with such force, and it went through the hoop dead center, hitting the back of the booth with a booming thud.

"Wow, you're not half bad," Nikki said with a smirk.

Brooklyn looked down at me with a grin and elbowed me. "I told you, pick one."

I smiled and tried to hide the blush creeping up my cheeks. I pointed at a husky whose head was too large for its body and its tongue stuck out of its mouth.

"Were you trying to impress me?" I asked coyly.

He shrugged in response. "That depends. Were you impressed?"

"Maybe a little bit." I smiled faintly, squeezing the stuffed dog tightly into my chest.

"Hey, I know you," the kid pipped up. "You were that receiver prodigy from Montgomery Prep," the kid said. "You still hold like five state records. Me and my friends worshipped you."

Brooklyn shrugged. "Thanks, I guess."

The kid frowned. "Didn't you get arrested and kicked off of Clemson? My dad said you were probably in jail by now."

Brooklyn's expression turned stone cold. Ella gasped sharply, and Nikki put her hand on Ella's arm to steady her. I bit down on my lip as I watched Brooklyn's movements, slow and methodical as he reached for the cigarette stuck behind his ear.

"Well, not yet," he replied coolly, letting the cigarette hang unlit between his lips.

Nikki finally let Ella go. She grabbed Brooklyn's arm and dragged him away, with my sister and I following behind them.

We continued to walk through the carnival quietly and made our way to where the parking lot met the edge of the harbor pier, with a tension hanging heavy in the hot spring air. I clutched the cheap dog tightly against my chest, feeling the stiff fur poke against my chin. I watched Brooklyn light a new cigarette with the end of the dying one in his mouth, his trembling hands tossing the old one over the side of the pier.

"I'm going to go get some drinks," Ella said, eyeing a lemonade stand down the boardwalk.

"I'll come with you," Nikki nodded, and the two wandered away, leaving Brooklyn and I behind.

Brooklyn leaned with his back against the railing of the pier. He took long, heaving drags of his cigarette, his eyes closed and his head tilted back into the oncoming dusk.

I leaned next to him, my stomach pressed against the railing. I looked down into the sloshing ocean below, beating against the stony wall of the harbor.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

Brooklyn dropped his head and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "I'll be fine."

"Don't let what that stupid kid said bother you." I gently placed my hand on top of his, still gripping the railing of the pier. "You're not that guy anymore."

"It doesn't matter what I am now," he let out a heavy sigh. "People only care about what I was, and they're always just going to enjoy picking at my scabs and trying to make me bleed."

I looked down at the beach, where high tide had come rushing in, filling pockets of sand with foaming, salty water. It must have been a 20 foot drop from the pier into the shallow tide below us. I wondered how many people stood where we stood, their breaths ragged and pained and their head swimming and dizzy, contemplating letting go.

"Then prove them wrong," I said softly.

Brooklyn blew out a puff of smoke and shook his head. "You know, you really are a better person than I think you give yourself credit for."

My heart swelled as I gave him a faint smile. "Well, so are you."

"Oh come on," he rolled his eyes. "Don't be like that. I mean it, you know."

"I know," I nodded. "So do I."

I looked down at the ocean rushing in below us, and when I looked back up at Brooklyn, his eyes shone just as blue and just as deep as the water. My chest tightened and my head spun, like I desperately needed oxygen, almost as if I was really drowning. Maybe I wasm right up on dry land.

"Hey, will you do me a favor?" he asked, pulling me back to the surface.

I gave him a smirk and a sideways glare. "That depends."

"Go on the Ferris wheel with me." He pointed across the parking lot at the Ferris wheel, and my heart dropped into my stomach.

"No way Brooklyn, I hate heights," I groaned. "Is this your way of revisiting your devious plan to scare me so I'll hold your hand?"

He extended his hand out to me and smiled. "Yes, now come on."

I glanced over his shoulder at the creaking metal monstrosity. I had to admit, it looked sort of pretty with all the lights decorating it, just starting to give off a glow in the oncoming night.

So I took his hand, and he didn't let go.

The line moved quickly, and before I could catch my breath we were loaded onto one of the cold metal seats, slowly swaying back and forth with our legs dangling over the side. I felt the weight of Brooklyn's arm gently draped over my shoulder, and I let myself unwind a little. He was warm and comfortable and everything a person should be.

My stomach churned at every creaking lurch, forwards and upwards higher into the sky. When we reached the top, it groaned to a stop again, the chair still gently swinging.

"Jeez," I sighed out. I kept my eyes down, intently focused on a chip in the red paint of the metal chair.

"See? It's fine," Brooklyn said. "It's totally fine. Look around. It's actually really nice up here."

After a few deep breaths, I glanced up and out at the world in front of us. Night had taken over, and all the lights from below were nothing more than little specks of color against the dark. A salty breeze blew in from the ocean, and even though I knew it was right below us, it sounded far, far away. It was quiet. A peaceful, honest quiet that I desperately needed. But after a few moments, I realized we were still perched at the top, our chair slowly swaying in the breeze.

"I told you nothing was going to happen."

I glanced over at Brooklyn, who grinned slyly at me.

"You went through all this trouble just to say I told you so?" I returned his grin and jabbed him in the side.

"Nat..." He sighed and rubbed his hand down the side of his face, his forehead starting to glisten with sweat in the humid spring air. "It's...it's not just about that. Not really, anyway."

He held my hand delicately, interlacing his fingers between mine. With the colorful lights of the fair dotting Brooklyn's face in blues and whites and reds, and all the noise from below so far away I could hear his heartbeat as it thumped against his chest, I think I finally realized how much I liked him. It was enough to make my head fuzzy and my heart soar, and even though I was afraid of being up so high, all I wanted to do was fly.

"Then what is it? Tell me," I whispered into the night.

I didn't realize how close we already were until he reached up and brushed a lock of hair away from my face. The accumulation of all the subtle touches and lingering glances of the past few weeks led into this moment, with the moon lighting up his eyes and our lips so close I could practically taste his vanilla chapstick. He pressed his thumb against my chin and tilted my head up to look at him. His lips grazed against mine, so soft and subtle that I second guessed if it even happened.

"It's just that...I think I really want to kiss you," he whispered, his breath hot against my cheek. "Can I?"

My heart careened into my throat, and I knew words would be useless. Instead, I leaned in and answered him the only way I could. I kissed him, and he kissed me back.

His hands moved up my neck, leaving little trails of heat everywhere he touched. He found the side of my face and gingerly pulled at my chin, begging me to let him in, and I felt myself completely unravel.

My first kiss was nothing like this. My first kiss was in a closet in the 8th grade, with Joey DelVecchio who played soccer and always smelled like grass. It was awkward and tasted like soda and sour cream and onion chips. But this? If I could go back in time I would give up every kiss I ever had with anyone just so this could be my first. He was the sweetest thing I ever tasted, and I knew I'd be craving him long afterwards.

Like a drug.

We finally pulled apart, and I gasped for air as my heart threatened to explode in my chest.

"Wow," he whispered softly.

"I hope that's a good wow," I whispered back, still trying to catch my breath.

"It's a good wow. A very good wow," he replied with a smile. "Nat, I..."

Before he could finish, the Ferris wheel lurched forward with a loud creak and began moving again. In order to fly, you have to be willing to fall, and damn had I fallen. But he was there to catch me. 

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