Page 71 of When You Wish Upon a Wideout

“Sienna, what happened?”

My eyes focused on the light blue button-down shirt he wore tucked into dark jeans. It wasn’t a suit, but that was fine. I knew we had time for that—plenty of time for suits and fancy dinners at restaurants with names of food I won’t be able to pronounce. We’ll have more Valentine’s Days, even if they look different in college. How do I know this, Mom?

Because even though we were in the kitchen, in my mind, Beau and I were back in the locker room. And I was swept up the moment my heart recognized a stranger before my head—the guy who offered a sympathetic smile even though I had just punched him in the face, the boy who rode bikes with me from dawn until dusk, who stole cookies his mother baked and gave me the ones with the most chocolate chips.

And there’s more, Mom. Beau reached up to catch my tears before they fell from my eyes because he knows how much I hate crying, and he said the right thing at the perfect moment.

“Do you want to stay in?”

I nodded into his hand. Because between him and the game, and remembering the way Dad trudged off to his room, all I wanted to do was spend time with my first Valentine, who happened to have a very hurting heart, and my current Valentine.

So, I collected myself, kicked off my boots, and went to Dad’s room. “We messed up the dinner reservations.” I lied. “Beau’s going to stay for Scrabble night. I’ll order a pizza.”

We played a long, grueling game that night. Henry won, of course. We ate pizza and chocolate ice cream with freezer burn on it. It wasn’t fancy. It wasn’t romantic. But it was fun. And it wasn’t lost on anyone that we played Scrabble with four players when we thought we might forever be a family of three. And Beau’s presence was comforting and easy, but I know that’s because he had already been part of my family.

And because Beau is Beau, Mom, he didn’t let Valentine’s Day go without, even if our plans didn’t go the way he had hoped.

“Roof or room?” Beau asked quietly when I walked him out later that night.

I hummed, thinking. “Room.”

“No wishes tonight?”

I shook my head. “I have everything I already need,” I told him. “But maybe not everything I want.”

“What if I want the roof?” he challenged, pocketing his hands.

Folding my arms over my chest, I rolled my eyes with a laugh. “We need to start flipping a coin. Do you have a quarter?”

“No, but I made something we can use.” I was about to ask what when he reached into his pocket. “Heads or tails?”

I tried to get a look at what he was holding—clearly, a coin of sort, round and flat, something bigger than a silver dollar, but Beau fisted his hand around it.

“Heads or tails?” he asked again.

“Tails.”

Without looking away from me, Beau flipped the coin. It was heavy and didn’t go too high, and it thumped loudly when it hit the front step.

“You win.”

I couldn’t help but smile, even though I was confused. “How do you know? You didn’t even look.”

“Because,” Beau said, picking the coin up. “You should know. Heads or tails... I love you no matter what.”

He placed the coin in my hand. The message welded into it—the same on both sides—was small, but the tiniest words sure can pack a lot of weight.

I love you.

I didn’t tell Beau this, Mom, but when I hugged him and whispered into his ear that I loved him too, I looked up and found the perfect star. And I wished he would be my forever valentine.

Love,

Sienna

chaptereleven

Sienna had beenin the billing department of Texas Children’s Hospital for almost an hour. Countless calls with her insurance company arguing over the outstanding balance left her at a loss.

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