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“Kiss it better?” he says to me.

Then we play against an old couple standing by cornhole looking for opponents. We’re victorious—barely. “We make a good team,” Theo says after waving them goodbye.

“They were literally ninety years old,” I reply.

After that, Theo forces a break for vanilla ice cream melting on hot, chocolate waffle cones, and Theo lets me finish his when I eat mine first. “This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted in my life,” I say.

“We’ve got to expand your palette,” Theo says.

Next we join a DIY water shooter game with water guns, and whoever fills the cup on the table a few feet away the most wins. “Should we go triple or nothing?” I ask him.

“I know when I’m being scammed,” he says.

We play a round of Ping-Pong with giant cups and light-up bouncing balls. “Best two out of three,” he says when I win the first round, then “best three out of five” when I win again. “I think you’re showing off now,” he says after my final win.

“Triple or nothing?” I reply.

There’s not a single game we don’t play as we make it down the boardwalk. The sun sets by the time Theo takes my hand and leads me to a photo booth propped against the side of a restaurant facing the water.

He pulls me in to sit next to him and shuts the curtain. Immediately my neck grows hot, the air feels thick, and my thigh pressed against his makes my throat dry. Then I glance at the screen, see how ridiculous we look as a pair in these outfits, and laugh out some of the nerves.

The countdown on the screen begins and the nerves are back. My hands lie on my thighs, and when I catch myself looking at Theo via the screen, I feel my face get hot and look down as it hits one.

“You’re supposed to look at the camera,” Theo teases as another five-second countdown begins.

A flash goes off as I hold my hands up in midair, covering my face.

“I don’t know how to pose,” I say.

“How about a classic pose? You know, the universal one known as smiling?”

I roll my eyes and then he reaches over, wraps his arms around me, and presses his two pointers against my cheeks, pulling the ends of my lips into a smile. Flash.

“Get off.” I laugh, and he pulls away, leaving one arm around me.

“Come on, a nice one,” he asks, and then lowly, softly, “please?”

My legs feel like softening butter. When our gazes lock and I see the warmth in all the flecks of golds and browns like stirred honey, the sensation spreads to the very tips of my toes. “Okay,” I more feel than hear myself say.

I sit up and face the camera, and Theo leans his head toward mine. My smile is awkward and slow to stretch. My gaze flickers to Theo’s face on the screen, and his own smile is wide and sincere. I’m surprised that when I look back at myself, my smile doesn’t look awkward at all.

We take our final shot, and Theo rushes us out to grab the printings from the side. “One for me,” he says, stuffing it in his pocket. “One for you.” He puts my copy in my tote, which he’s still holding on to. “Final thing to end the night—ready?”

“For?”

“I’m scared to say, and we’re not close enough that I can drag you to it if you say no.”

I have a pretty good guess as to where he’s taking me. “I’m not afraid of heights,” I say and smile when his eyes widen.

“How’d you know?”

“We’re literally walking toward it and we’ve done most everything else. If you think I’m scared of water, it’s natural to think I’d be scared of other things, like riding the Ferris wheel.”

He shakes a finger toward me. “You’re too smart for your own good.”

“Let’s go,” I say, leading him toward the ride on the edge of the boardwalk.

Now that it’s evening, I spot the glowing purple and red lights that trace its perimeter, blinking into different colors and shapes every few seconds. When we reach it and take a place at the end of a short line of a few people, Theo slides next to me.