"Some people make you realise you've been waiting for them without knowing it." ~ Unknown
Despite feeling as though she had clawed her way back from the brink of death on the pendulum, Selina refused to back down.
By lunch, she was drained and mortified.
Every time her mind replayed the moment on the pendulum, her stomach tightened. Michael. Michael! She had screamed his name like a lifeline, without thinking, without filtering. Now the memory burned in her chest like a brand.
She scanned the courtyard as she sipped water, searching for a flash of white hair. She found him near the fountain, camera raised. Following his lens, she saw what had captured his attention: a cluster of small children shrieking with laughter as they splashed each other in the shallow water.
Michael lowered the camera, and Selina caught the soft curve of his smile, the same quiet warmth she had felt in the dark of the train passageway. It was a look she was beginning to recognise.
After lunch, the group gravitated toward a ride called Deep Space. The name alone made Selina's pulse spike. She lingered at the edge of the queue, watching the cars disappear into a tunnel marked with swirling galaxies and neon lights.
Michael appeared beside her, his voice low and steady.
"This one's good. Don't miss it."
She glanced at him. His grey eyes held no judgment, only an unspoken assurance that made her feet move forward before her mind could argue.
Again, she ended up in the seat next to him.
As the harness clicked into place, he leaned slightly toward her. "Don't close your eyes this time. You'll miss something beautiful. And trust me, it's less scary than it sounds."
"How do you know?"
"I've been here before. With my family." A faint smile. "We survived."
The ride lurched forward, plunging them into darkness. For a long moment, nothing happened, just the slow crawl of the car through a corridor of shifting lights. Selina's grip on the bar eased. Then the world dissolved.
Optical illusions swallowed the walls. It felt as though they were hurtling through a wormhole, stars and planets streaking past in silent, breathtaking chaos. When the ride finally twisted into a traditional roller-coaster drop, Selina didn't scream. She laughed, a bright, unguarded sound that surprised even her.
As they stepped off, she grabbed Michael's arm without thinking. "That was incredible! Did you see the nebula? The way the colours- "
He let her talk, his expression patient, the corner of his mouth lifting.
Evening descended like a slow exhale. The park transformed: lanterns flickered along the pathways, and the Ferris wheel blazed with shifting colours.
They watched a puppet show, then a fountain performance set to music. After a quick dinner, the group drifted toward the carousel. Its gilded horses rose and fell in a gentle, hypnotic rhythm, and the calliope music wrapped around them like a lullaby.
Selina found a horse near the outer ring. She didn't realise Michael was recording them from outside. She smiled, a spontaneous, uncalculated smile, and he captured it. For a moment, she thought she saw his own smile widen behind the lens.
Later, when they reached the Ferris wheel, Selina saw Michael standing alone near the boarding platform. She hesitated but went towards him.
"Come on." She grabbed his sleeve and pulled him toward the next car before she could talk herself out of it.
They rose in silence at first, the city sprawling beneath them in a web of lights. At the top, the wheel slowed to a near stop, and Selina pressed her palms against the glass.
"It's so beautiful," she breathed.
Michael didn't answer. He just gazed at her. She suddenly felt shy and said.
"Thank you for today. I troubled you a lot."
He tilted his head, that faint smirk she was starting to recognise appearing on his face. "It's okay. I had fun watching you."
Heat rushed to her cheeks. "Don't make fun of me."
"I'm not." His voice was gentle, almost amused. "You're… entertaining."
She didn't know whether to be insulted or flattered. Before she could decide, the wheel began its descent, and the moment dissolved into the night.
The next morning, they arrived at the shooting range with the kind of excitement that only comes from competition. Paintball guns were distributed, teams drawn. Selina found herself grouped with Michael, Sophia, and a few others. On the opposing side were three boys who looked like they'd done this before.
"We're outmatched," Sophia muttered.
"Maybe not," Michael said quietly.
The whistle blew.
Sophia charged the centre, flanked by two others. Michael hung back with Selina, crouching behind a stack of oil drums. He fired with controlled precision, each shot finding its mark whenever an opponent grew careless.
Selina, meanwhile, could barely hit anything. The gun kicked more than she expected, and the goggles fogged every time she breathed too fast. She got tagged once, a sting on her shoulder, and flinched.
Michael glanced at her. "You okay?"
"I've barely played this. I'm still trying to get the hang of it."
He hesitated, then gestured for her to move closer. "I'll show you."
He repositioned her hands, adjusted her stance, and demonstrated how to shoot a moving target. His instructions were quiet, efficient, devoid of condescension. For a few minutes, the chaos of the game faded, and it was just the two of them behind the barrel.
When he finished, he turned to return to his cover.
"Get down!"
While playing, Michael suddenly rushed towards her and yanked her low. The paintball that would have struck her instead slammed into the back of his hand, just above the wrist. He hissed through his teeth but didn't drop his gun.
"Michael!" Selina's voice cracked. "Your hand- "
"It's fine." He flexed his fingers. "Stay down. I'm moving."
He slid to a new position, then called out to Sophia, who was pinned behind a sandbag barrier.
"Switch with me. You're almost out of ammo, and you can't take another hit."
Sophia stared at him for a fraction of a second, then nodded. She moved, and Michael slipped into her place, firing three rapid shots that eliminated one of the opposing marksmen.
Selina watched from behind the barrel, her heart pounding for reasons that had nothing to do with the game.