Page 114 of When You Wish Upon a Wideout

I shook my head. “I don’t want you to go.” My voice was a whisper against my sobs, but I knew Beau heard it because his face shifted from concerned to heartbroken.

You always said young love was messy, Mom. You told me it’s hard to hold on to forever when you still have life to live. But when Beau climbed off me and pulled me against him, our legs wound together, his arms—noticeably thicker after our stupid time apart—wrapped around me, I thought about how maybe it wasn’t our love that was messy. It was just the timing of it all. Our friendship had stood the test of time and distance already. So maybe, that’s the only option for a love like this. Because our love is effortless and timeless. It’s both safe and encouraging. It’s the type that makes you dream, that makes you believe in wishing on a star.

“I wish we’ll be a family,” I said, closing my eyes and visualizing the shooting star from moments ago in my mind. “I want the family we didn’t get to keep. I want to be a mom like my mom wasn’t—here,” I tell him. “I want that with you.”

He lost his brother. I lost you, Mom. I lost parts of Dad when you died. And I have to think that two people who cling to each other as hard as Beau and I do deserve that kind of completeness.

Beau nodded against me. I didn’t want to tell him again how much I don’t want him to go. But Beau responded anyway as if I had already repeated myself.

“I promise,” he whispered into my hair. “I’ll come back for you.”

I wished again, Mom, that I could believe him.

Love,

Sienna

chaptereighteen

Beau had never beenthe kind of person to need an alarm clock. Years of discipline and strict schedules had left his body on semi-autopilot, often waking by 5:00 AM, even after little sleep. But before he and Sienna went to bed on their last night in the beachy Malibu bungalow, Beau set an alarm for 4:15 because he couldn’t risk sleeping through the grand finale.

And even though he and Sienna got little sleep that night, Beau woke a minute before his alarm with a strong enthusiasm that made it seem like he had slept for ten hours and not four. He silenced his phone and rolled over, finding Sienna’s body in the darkness and wrapping himself around her, his hand pressing into her smooth stomach, his face resting in the mess of her bedhead.

Sienna hummed and mumbled something Beau couldn’t make out. But when her body inched back closer to his in her sleep, he understood.

She’s happy.

Beau nuzzled into her warmth, wondering if everything he had done over the last few months—planetarium visits, sunset sailboat cruises—brought Sienna even an ounce of joy that just lying with her brought him. Because even though they had missed all those things earlier, they had also missed out on the simplicity of justbeingbeside each other as well—through good times and bad, for better or worse.

How could I ever have been so stupid?He thought, bringing a hand up to brush Sienna’s hair to the side. Cringing at the thought of her hurting over Grace’s cancer, Beau squeezed her tighter.I wish I had been there for you. I wish I had been there even if you said you didn’t need me, even if you said you were okay.

He thought back to all the times he picked Sienna up as a teenager, making sure to always ring the bell, shake Coach Clarke’s hand. With every date that went by, every time Beau and Sienna left her house, her father would always say,“You take care of my daughter now.”

But Jack Clarke also knew the reality of Beau’s future, what it meant to be a devoted student athlete with professional potential. He had encouraged Beau to reach for the stars, to focus on himself, and not throw away an opportunity that would drag him from Brookwood earlier than expected.“Sienna will be alright. She’s a strong one.”

Beau snuggled closer to Sienna.You don’t know how strong she really is, Beau wanted to tell her father.And I’m sorry I didn’t look out for her the way I should have.He could imagine himself having a conversation with Coach Clarke as if it were present-day—man-to-man—apologizing for just how much he had hurt Sienna, showing her father how determined he was to make it right.

Shaking the image off, Beau pressed a kiss to Sienna’s bare shoulder before rolling out of bed and stepping into the bathroom. Sienna might have forgiven him, even if she never forgot. But Beau wasn’t sure if he could ever forgive himself for painting their past with loneliness and hurting. What he could do, he reminded himself as he left the bathroom and tiptoed into the kitchen to make coffee, was paint the future bright and endless.

Yesterday’s boat ride wasn’t just about the wish list. Beau had taken her at sunset to show her he would be with her through waves—rough or calm—at the close of each day.

And at sunrise, Beau would show Sienna he planned to be there for the start of every day too. If he wasn’t physically beside her for each one, Beau was desperate for Sienna to keep him in her heart.

“Hey, sleeping beauty.” Beau ran a hand up and down her arm, kissing her cheek. “You need to get up.”

Sienna stirred, rubbing her head against the pillow.

“I made coffee.”

“Why?” Her voice was a sleepy gurgle. “It’s still nighttime,” she decided.

“Not for much longer. Come on. I want to show you something. Get dressed. And wear something warm.”

They were in the car fifteen minutes later, Sienna wearing one of Beau’s sweatshirts, her hair tied up in a bun on top of her head. Beau turned the heat on max when Sienna’s teeth began to chatter.

“I guess your dream car isn’t so great for the cold.” His breath clouded in front of him.

“Your old truck wasn’t either,” she reminded him. “I’m glad you upgraded that.”

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