Confession: Mariah is the mom I always wanted.

My hands were shaking so muchI couldn’t even apply my mascara. “Help please,” I said to no one specific.

Henrietta took over, holding the brush and telling me when to blink. She and Birdie had come over to Jonas’s to get ready for the premiere. The guys were all hanging out at Jonas’s parents’, watching some baseball game. They’d probably put their suits on five minutes before it was time to leave and be just fine. No fair.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m just so damn nervous! What if everyone hates the movie?”

Birdie shook her head at me in the mirror. “No one’s going to hate it... unless they’re stupid. It’s an amazing book, and the movie is just as good.”

I couldn’t tell. I’d only seen clips from the trailer. Which, yeah, looked good, but that didn’t keep me from panicking. I’d seen plenty of good trailers that turned out to be shitty movies.

Henrietta capped the mascara and said, “Honey, you’re nervous. It’s totally normal. Millions of people are about to watch something you inspired—I’d be worried if youweren’tnervous.”

That actually calmed me down a little bit. But maybe I wasn’t worried about millions of people. “What if Jonas doesn’t like it?”

Henrietta laughed out loud. “That boy thinks you hung the moon and every star.”

I smiled. It was crazy to think I’d gone from the occasional hookup with random guys to a committed relationship, all in six months. “He’s amazing. I can’t wait for tax season to be over so we can spend more time together.”

Birdie nodded. “I totally get it. Cohen and I have all these fun plans for the summer. We’re going to fly to Mexico again where we had our honeymoon, and this time Ollie is coming and he’s even bringing his new boyfriend!”

“Ollie has a new boyfriend?” I asked, excited. His last boyfriend had been a real dick. And I know it’s not okay to talk about kids like that, but still. He was a dick.

Birdie grinned. “Technically Ollie has a they/themfriend. They met at this horticultural convention in Santa Monica and totally hit it off. They’re the cutest kid.”

“That’s amazing,” Henrietta said. “I love how supportive you both are of him. My parents would have blown a gasket if I dated a girl, let alone someone in transition.”

“There’s no other way to be. It’s either love and accept him or lose our kid,” Birdie said. “Loving’s always the better choice.”

I smiled. “You sound like a character in one of my romance novels.”

“Obviously, you write brilliant characters,” Birdie teased.

I knew she’d said the compliment offhandedly, but it touched my heart. Soon, thousands of people would be getting to know my characters too. My eyes were already tearing, and I grabbed a tissue to help dab at the corners. “I should have worn waterproof mascara today.”

“Aw, honey, why are you crying?” Henrietta asked.

I looked between her and Birdie, reaching for their hands. They slipped their fingers through mine, and I squeezed. “This is just such a big dream for me, and I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you’re here to experience it with me.”

Birdie hugged me. “Remember when you were waiting tables at that dive bar and you saved up singles to pay for a used Apple computer? That’s when I knew you were going to be big someday. You’ve always done whatever it took to succeed.”

I’d almost forgotten that. It felt like eons ago. “Life is so different now.”

Henrietta nodded. “I’ve only known you two for a year and a half, but it feels like forever. You’re the best friends a girl could ask for.”

The lump in my throat grew even larger, and I waved my hand at my watering eyes. “Okay, we have to stop.” I let out a laugh. “I don’t want to be a blubbering mess in front of all those famous people.”

Birdie took my hand, pulling me to stand. “All smiles from here on out.”

Henrietta nodded. “All you need is your dress.”

We went from Jonas’s big bathroom to the guest room, where I was hiding my dress in the closet. Jonas still hadn’t seen it, and I couldn’t wait to see the way he would react to me wearing it.

I pulled it from the tan garment bag and stared at the shimmery fabric. I could already picture the way the gold sequins would catch the lights of the paparazzi and how chic I’d look next to Jonas in his neat black tux.

The girls got their own garment bags from the closet, and we all began slipping into our gowns, helping each other zip the backs and tuck the hanger straps in. Soon, we were all in our red-carpet attire, staring at each other.

I covered my mouth with my hands. “I know I said no more crying, but...”