Chapter Twenty-One

August 28

Michael is waiting for me near the ticket booth for the carousel in Krape Park, turning his phone over in his hands. He’s

wearing a short-sleeve button-down and trim khaki shorts, and he looks very attractive and very grown-up.

I didn’t even put on a polo shirt. I’m wearing a boring T-shirt and jeans that are rolled up past my ankles. And sandals.

God, Michael’s dressed like this is a date and I’m dressed like... like I’ve been preoccupied all day trying to gently

suggest to my younger self that I might be trans and not just a major fuckup.

He smiles when he sees me and holds up his hand, like I might not see him if he doesn’t wave, despite the fact that he’s the

only person standing near the carousel who doesn’t have a small child attached to them.

“Hey,” he says, when I reach him. “Glad you got my text.”

I look at him blankly. “What text?”

“I texted you to tell you I was by the carousel.”

“Oh. Sorry. Um... my phone died. I forgot to charge it. I just saw you from the parking lot.” I flap a hand in the direction

of the parking lot where I left the Jeep.

“Well... you found me. That’s what counts. So.” He jerks his head toward the carousel and raises his eyebrows. “You ready?”

I look between him and the antique carousel. Even though it’s not dark yet, the carousel lights are already on, twinkling

along the edge of its pointed roof like a crown of stars. They send a warm golden glow over the brightly painted horses on

their brass poles. “Are you serious?”

He grins and fishes a few quarters out of his pocket. “We’re here.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

He just laughs and flips the quarters at me, which I somehow manage to catch.

We both stick out like sore thumbs as we go through the line, trading the quarters for old-fashioned paper tickets. All the

other riders are under the age of ten. I feel oddly tall as I climb up on a white horse with a gaudy gold saddle and a black

mane.

“I don’t think I’ve been on this thing in twenty years,” I say, as the tinkling music starts up.

Michael climbs onto a bright-yellow horse with a red saddle. “Oh, I ride it every week,” he says, with a perfectly straight

face.

“You do not.”

“It keeps me young.”

The carousel creaks into motion, gradually picking up speed. The faster it turns, the more the scratchiness under my skin

fades. The music and lights and Michael’s crooked grin are like an anchor, tying me here, to the present, while the world

whirls by around us. By the time the ride ends, I’ve managed to push the bookstore away completely.

From the carousel, Michael takes me to the old antique fire truck, which is deserted, so we sit on its wide, flat bench seat,

me behind the steering wheel.

“I definitely remember this being bigger,” I say.

“Yeah, it’s kind of disappointing how everything gets normal size when you’re an adult,” Michael says. He glances around.

“Well... a lot of stuff is probably still kind of big for you.”

I elbow him. “Yeah, thanks, you’re hilarious.”

From the fire truck, we wander past the playground, past the big gazebo and the picnic tables and the band shell. And we talk

about nothing. The last time Michael played in the band shell. Who came to that birthday he had at the gazebo. He asks if

New York has any carousels, and I shrug and change the subject—because I don’t want to talk about New York.

I tell myself that’s because I’m here to get away from New York. And not because the second he asked about New York, I felt a strange little tug behind my ribs and suddenly caught myself wondering what Olivia was doing right now. Whether she was with Joan. Or Ian. Whether they were all hanging out together without me.

We walk around the trails of Krape Park until the mosquitoes come out and the sun starts to sink in the sky. And then we turn

around and go back to the parking lot, because I forgot to put on bug spray (again) and I’m getting eaten alive, which Michael

teases me about.

He walks me to the Jeep in the parking lot.

I reach out and grasp his hand. “This was fun.”

“Yeah.” He smiles, but he gently pulls his hand away. “Listen, I have to be at school tomorrow for a meeting, but... do

you want to come by for dinner? I mean, nothing special, just me and Liz and Amanda, but you’re welcome. If you want.”

I tuck my hand in my back pocket. I don’t know what else to do with it. I don’t know why he pulled away. “Yeah. Sure.”

“Great.”

I lean up, rising up on my toes, but he makes no move to kiss me. Just gives me another crooked grin and turns away, heading

for his pickup truck.

I plug my phone in as I climb into bed, trying to keep the bookstore from creeping back into my mind. Trying not to think,

over and over, about Michael pulling his hand away.

What was that about?

After a minute, my phone wakes up. Two notifications pop up on the screen.

The first is a text from Michael—the one he sent earlier that I didn’t see, saying he was at the carousel.

The second is from Ian.

IAN ROBB

Hey Darb I know you’ve got a lot going on, but Ollie really misses you. Shoot her a text sometime? xx