Nearby, shouts and laughter erupt in a chaotic chorus. I glance over my shoulder toward a cluster of amusement rides at the source of the noise. The closest ride, a massive canary-yellow looping starship, swings back and forth like a pendulum, its small golden lights flickering on and off in rhythm with the screams.
“We should do the carousel,” Celeste adds, taking another bite out of her wrap. She chews, swallows, then adds, “It’s perfect for selfies.”
Nate nods. “We can take turns posing for pics.”
Ariah rolls her eyes. “You two need to learn to live in the moment. I want to go to the funhouse.”
“We can do all of them,” Nate suggests.
“No way I’m doing the starship or the roller coasters,” Celeste pulls a face. “I’ll do anything but those.”
Elijah leans in, asking in a low voice in
