Wish Upon A Star

by Jasinda Wilder

  There’s lunch at a well-known Hollywood cafe, where even Wes isn’t the most famous person in attendance. A trip up the coast to Malibu, and a day at the beach. A day in Wes’s backyard, at the pool, where Mom, Macy, and Grandma sit in the shade and chat, and Dad shows Wes how to use his outdoor grill to cook steaks and burgers and we feel like one big family, and Beth and I splash in the pool and smirk at each other as we exchange looks and jokes—mostly Bethany teasing me about Wes and trying to get salacious details about our sexy times.

  I tell her some things, in whispers, replete with laughter and sly looks at Wes. But most of it, I keep to myself. I just tell her enough to make her happy; she’s my best friend and the closest thing to a sister I’ve ever had, and I can’t not tell her anything.

  I know I’ve only got so many good days in a row, though, before another wave of shittiness attacks me. As much as I love them, I want more time alone with Wes.

  I want our date.

  Most of all, I want what I know awaits us at the end of that date.

  Mom can sense my turmoil, and corners me in the kitchen while Dad and Wes finish grilling and Macy and Beth change out of their swimsuits, and Grandma catnaps in the guest bedroom.

  “You want us to leave, don’t you?” Mom asks.

  I shrug. “I missed you guys, and I love you, and I’m really glad I got to see you all.” I hesitate. “And I’m also glad you got to see how Wes and I are together.”

  Mom’s expression is complicated. “Honestly, you guys are much more…normal, I guess, than I expected.”

  I give a wry smile. “What were you expecting?”

  She shrugs. “I don’t know, honestly. You’re a lot more like a normal couple, I guess, instead of two people who have barely known each other for what, two full weeks?”

  “Granted I’m far from an expert on what constitutes a normal relationship, but…clearly this isn’t it, any way you slice it.” I watch through the open back end of the house as Wes and Dad throw a football while the steaks finish cooking. “It all happened so fast, and it’s so intense. So intense, Mom. Emotionally, mentally, and yes, physically. I don’t expect you or anyone else to understand it, how something can just emerge almost…fully formed, out of nothing, instantly, like it seems this relationship has. I don’t even understand it. I just know it feels more right than anything in my life.”

  I regard my mother—she’s listening, instead of trying to argue with me to see it her way, like she usually would.

  “Honestly, Mom, I know you’re not going to like hearing this, but…” I let out a slow breath. “It feels like…like God or the universe or life is giving me something at the end of my life to make it all worthwhile. So I can let go and be at peace. I feel…complete. I haven’t missed out on anything, now.” I bite my lip. “Well, almost anything.”

  Mom manages to somehow frown in confusion while laughing at the same time. “You mean you guys haven’t…” She arches an eyebrow. “You know. Um. Slept…together? Yet?”

  “Do you really want to know the answer to that, Mom?”

  She holds up her hands, palms facing me. “Not really, no. Just…are you happy, with him? Really and truly? Do you know in your heart and soul that he’ll still be here with you no matter how hard it gets?”

  I nod. “I am happy with him. Utterly and completely. More than I feel should be even possible, sometimes. The only unhappiness is wishing I had more time. The bad days when I feel like crap and everything hurts and I can’t even open my eyes…it feels like it’s stealing the short amount of time I have with him. And I get kinda angry about it. But I just focus on feeling better and making the most of every moment I have with him.”

  “Are you…are you still planning on actually marrying him? Like, for real?”

  “I don’t know,” I say. “We haven’t really talked about that, yet. And honestly, I’m not planning on bringing it up. I’ll leave it to him. Being actually married isn’t really super important to me. The experience, the relationship, the emotions, that’s what really matters to me. Being married is just…a ceremony. I have the important things.”

  She makes a sour face. “Marriage is important, Jo-Jo.”

  I shake my head. “I’m not saying it’s not, Mom. But it’s for normal people in normal situations. It’s…it’s meant to indicate that you’re choosing that person as your life partner.” I grab Mom’s hands. “I’m not going to have a life, Mom. This is it.”

  She shakes her head, blinking hard. “Don’t talk like that. Please.”

  “You can’t still be in denial.”

  She shakes her head again, a tear trickling down her cheek. “No. But…I guess I still have hope.”

  “So do I,” Grandma says, entering the room. “I’ll never give up hope. I pray for you every single day. All day. I pray for you without ceasing, dearest one.” She kisses my temple, clings to me. “You’re going to be okay, Jolene. I know it. I’ve heard it. I’ve felt it.”

  I blink. Because despite it all, I do want to live. Especially now that I have Wes in my life. “Grandma…” I inhale her familiar scent, hugging her back. “If you’re right, if God answers your prayers…I’ll believe.”

  She sighs. “That’s not how it works, sweetheart, but I appreciate the thought. I know this sounds cliche, but Jesus loves you, right now. I know it’s hard to understand considering all you’ve been through, and what you’re facing. I can’t say I understand God’s ways or why he allows good people to suffer and why bad people get away with bad things. I just know in my life I’ve seen too much evidence of his love for me, and his provision, and his goodness, to not believe. He believes in you, even if you don’t believe in him. And I know not everyone gets a miracle. My own good friend, Charlotte, she battled cancer for years, and she died from it. My faith wavered, and I wept bitterly for weeks. I was angry at God for it. And I prayed for her like I do for you. But God had a plan. I don’t need to know what it is or what it looks like to believe it’s good, even when I can’t see every facet, or how the good comes from the bad.”

  “Grandma—”

  “I know, I know. I’m preaching, and I’m sorry.”

  “I guess I’m just going to need some kind of proof from him before I can be where you are.”

  “I understand that, sweetheart. I do.” She kisses my temple again. “Have faith. Have hope. I feel in my spirit that you’re going to be okay.”

  “I really do hope you’re right.”

  Dinner is loud and fun. We sit outside and talk and laugh well past sunset, until Grandma announces it’s well past her bedtime. She says this with a look at me, and a smirk. She’s probably seen the way Wes and I have been exchanging looks, and constantly finding ways to touch each other. I just can’t help it—I was sick for three days and then we spent the past three entertaining my family, which means we’ve had barely a moment alone. The past few days have been so full that by the time we got home—home! Our home!—we were both too tired to do anything but fall in bed together and sleep.

  Which, in its own way, is just as intimate and heart-filling as anything else we could do. Cuddling with him. Falling asleep with my ear to his chest, his heartbeat lulling me to sleep. Spooning up behind him and holding his big hard body as our breathing synchs.

  It’s all wonderful and beautiful.

  Feeling like a family is amazing, too. The way he fits in with us, how easily he can talk to Mom and Dad, how natural it feels to sit on his lap while we talked.

  But I’m antsy to be alone with him. To get my special date with him.

  Wes walks Mom, Dad, Grandma, and Aunt Macy to the door, and at a significant look and wave from Bethany, I hang back with her.

  “I feel like we’ve barely had a chance to talk,” she says, her voice low, as if this was a great secret.

  I wince. “I know, Beth, I…I know.”

  She drops her eyes. “I’m trying hard to not be jealous, but I guess I feel a little sore about being replaced as the most important pers
on in your life.”

  I take her hands, glance at the front door, at Mom and the others. Wes meets my eyes, and we have our first nonverbal conversation composed entirely of looks, wherein he asks if I need a minute with Beth and I express that I do.

  “How far is the house you’re staying at from here?” I ask.

  She shrugs. “We walked. Just a few doors down.”

  “So, I could walk there and back?”

  She nods. “Yeah, you’ll be fine, if you’re feeling up to it, I mean.”

  I smile at her. “Yeah, I feel up to it.” I catch Mom’s eyes. “We’re going to walk and talk, okay? You guys go ahead.”

  Wes pulls me into a side hug and kisses the top of my head as I pass him. “You good?”

  I nod. “I’m good. I just need to talk to Bethany,” I murmur to him. “She’s been my best friend since we were little girls and she feels a little neglected, understandably.”

  He huffs. “I never wanted to steal you from your family.”

  “I know. You didn’t. I want to be alone with you. I just…she’s more than family. You know? Like, your parents you don’t choose. Your best friend? That’s a choice, and it’s important to cultivate that.”

  He smiles at me as he touches my chin, tilting my head back for a brief but deep kiss. “Go. Cultivate it.”

  Bethany precedes me outside and waits on the sidewalk, to give me a moment of privacy with Wes, watching this exchange with open curiosity.

  When I join her, we hold hands, palms clasped—we’ve walked this way since we were old enough to walk, and it’s habit, now. I know she has things on her mind, so I hold my tongue and wait for her. We walk slowly, making the most of the short distance—I see Mom and the others ahead, already making the turn on the walkway to the front door of their rented house.

  “What’s he like, really?” she asks.

  “What you see is what you get, with Wes,” I answer. “How he is, how he’s been around you and Mom and everybody? That’s Wes.”

  “So…he’s, like, legitimately that freaking amazing?”

  I grin, biting my lower lip. “Yeah.”

  “God, I’m jealous.” She cuts a look at me. “I mean that funny, not for real. I’m not actually jealous.”

  I roll my eyes at her. “Bethy, come on. It’s me. You don’t have to qualify your jokes. I know what you’re thinking before you do.”

  She nods. “I guess I wasn’t expecting it to be…this.” She gestures at me. “Like, I hope this doesn’t offend you, but I expected it to fizzle out. For him to turn out to be…different. Like, this was a publicity stunt, or just being nice to you for…for obvious reasons. But it seems like it’s genuinely something else. Something…more. Like, there’s real affection between you guys.” She looks at me, questioning even as she keeps talking. “I know you told me you guys have, like, fooled around. But is it…is it just fooling around for fun? Or…?”

  I roll a shoulder. “You and Derek…” I say, suggestively referencing her short-lived relationship with a guy from her AP Chem class back in high school. “I’ve always felt like you guys maybe did stuff that you didn’t entirely share with me. Which, you know, I get, especially now.”

  She’s quiet a moment. “I…I didn’t want to hurt your feelings or make you feel left out, or…or something.”

  I squeeze her hand. “You don’t have to tell me anything, Bethy.”

  “But if Wes is actually, genuinely your boyfriend and this isn’t just some weird flex for him or…” She looks at me, and I know she’s about to say something she’s worried will offend me or hurt me, but because we’re so close, she’s going to say it anyway. “Or a desperate ploy for you to check off that last bucket list item, you know? And I’m not judging, if that’s what it is. I’m really not.”

  “It honestly did kind of start off that way,” I admit. “I thought, when he first showed up and was like, yeah, I’ll marry you—I was like, okay, right. This will be fun and then it’ll be over and maybe I’ll get a kiss out of it, or…or something. Like, a first kiss before I go, right? And with Westley Freaking Britton, who I’ve had a bigger crush on than even my guy Harry Styles. You know this. But then…at some point, it…changed. For both of us, I think. I don’t really even know…how, or when. Maybe it’s when I got sick, in Cheyenne? I guess I expected it to scare him off. Like, seeing me sick, being faced with the reality that I’m not just a skinny little waif, I’m actually sick? I thought it would scare him more. But it didn’t. He stayed. He handled it.” I swallow hard. “This last one was…” I blink tears. “It was really, really bad, B. Like, Dr. Miller told me it had spread and it wasn’t responding, and I saw the scans and I know he’s right, but I didn’t…feel it, you know? I didn’t feel worse. It felt like it always has—some days are better than others, and some days are just pure unmitigated hell. But…that? When Wes called my parents? I’ve never felt that way before. I’ve always felt sick. But…” I let out a shaky breath, remembering. “That’s the first time I actually felt like I was dying.”

  “Oh god, Jo.” She sobs, holding my hand and pressing her nose into my shoulder.

  “For the first time, I really feel it. I feel scared. And most of all, I feel a whole hell of a lot less ready than I thought I was.” I laugh. “I think it’s because I have Wes. And I want…I want more time. Because this feels real, Beth. It is real. And I was ready before because I didn’t have him. And I know I have you and Macy and Mom and Dad and Grandma, but it’s not the same.”

  She nods. “I do understand, to a degree. It wasn’t like that with Derek, obviously.”

  I glance at her. “I’m curious about him. What actually happened that you didn’t tell me.”

  She grins. “I…” A drop of her eyes, and a widening of her grin. “We actually slept together.”

  “You lost your virginity with him and you didn’t tell me?” I stop walking, let go of her hand and glare at her. “We are so fighting, Bethany. Like, I’m mad.”

  She sighs. “I’m sorry, Jo, I just…I didn’t know how to tell you. I thought…I thought it would be harder for you if you knew I’d done that and you hadn’t.”

  “What was it like?”

  She grins again. “Amazing. Not what I expected, though.”

  “Was it his first time, too?”

  She nods. “Yeah.” A laugh and a shrug. “Or at least, he said it was. And even though I’m obviously no expert, it seemed like it was. Like, he didn’t seem to have any more of a clue what we were doing than I did.”

  I chew on the inside of my cheek. “Did it hurt? I heard it hurts, the first time.”

  She shrugs. “I mean, a little? Kinda like…a quick pinch, and then it started to feel better, and then it was good.” A laugh. “And then it was over.”

  “So it was quick?”

  She bites her lip, stifling a cackle. “Yeah, it was. But it got better.” A wiggle of her eyebrows. “You what they say…practice makes perfect.”

  I cackle with her. “When? Where?”

  We start walking again, and she takes my hand back. “We actually only really dated because we both wanted to lose our virginity. We talked about it, before. I thought he was cute, he thought I was cute, but neither of us were like, oh god I’m love. So, we decided to date, specifically to get comfortable enough with each other to have sex. So, we started out kissing, and kissing turned to making out, and making out turned into grope sessions, and that became getting naked together, and then we did it. But…” she hesitates. “As for where? We, um, actually skipped school a few times. His parents both work, so we skipped seventh period and went to his house.”

  “So…why’d it end?

  Another shrug. “It was coming to a point where we either had to, like, make it a real relationship, or end it. And we talked and decided neither of us actually liked the other enough to make it a relationship. We had physical chemistry, but that was it.”

  I huff. “I still can’t believe you had sex and didn’t tell me.” />
  “I’m sorry, Jo.”

  I bump into her. “I forgive you.”

  She kisses my cheek. “Thanks.” A giggle, then. “So, you and Wes. Have you and him had sex? You were kind of vague.”

  “Because I thought you were a virgin!”

  She laughs. “Now you understand why I didn’t tell you!”

  I huff. “Fine. I get it.” I shake my head. “No, we haven’t had actual sex, yet. Everything but, though.”

  She groans, somewhere between excited and jealous. “With Westley Freaking Britton!”

  “I know!” I let myself feel that excitement. “I don’t really think about him like that anymore, though. Or not often. Mostly, he’s just Wes.” I shrug. “If I think about him as Westley Britton, celebrity, and object of my childish celebrity crush, it makes it weird. I dunno. When it’s just…us, like just Jo and Wes, it’s…natural. A man and a woman, together. Instead of, like, celebrity and nobody.”

  “I mean, you are TikTok famous. So, not really nobody anymore.”

  I laugh. “Okay, but TikTok famous and actually A-list famous-famous? Not the same thing at all.”

  “No, you’re right.” She eyes me sidelong. “You guys feel like…I dunno. A real couple. Like, a real, adult couple. Me and Derek felt more like two kids fumbling through sex for the first time together.”

  I laugh. “It feels like that for me, sometimes, but it’s one-sided because he’s not a virgin. He’s not had as many…um, girlfriends, or anything, as you might think. But he’s not a virgin.”

  We’re approaching the rental, now. We stop at the walkway to the front door. Bethany turns to face me, holding both my hands, now.

  “Jo, I love you. I’m really, really glad you get to have this with Wes. With anyone, but especially with him. I know you’re playing it cool, but I also know how much it means to you that it’s him.”

  I smile. “It’s a literal fairy tale, Beth. I’m living a fairy tale, and I’m just trying to make the most of every moment and appreciate it for what it is.”