Page 20 of Wish Upon A Star

He shakes his head. “No, I’m not. It’s definitely not pity.” He holds my eyes. “And Jo? Don’t apologize. It was…beautiful.”

I swallow hard. “It’s embarrassing.” I cover my face with my hands, turn away. “I can’t believe you saw it. I can’t believe you’reherebecause of it.”

“Jo.”

I shake my head. I’m trying to not cry from sheer mortification.

“Jolene.” He leans over and sets his coffee on the ground, then takes my hands and pulls them away from my face. Holds both of my hands in both of his. “Look at me.” His voice is so gentle.

It’s utterly surreal, this moment. This ishim. I’ve watched every YouTube video, every movie, every interview. I doodled his name on my notebooks while watching boring school videos. It’sWestley Britton. Here with me, at my house, in my backyard, sitting in my favorite place with me. Hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder, so close I can smell him, feel his body heat. He’s real.

He has my hands, and he’s demanding I look at him.

“Tell me why you posted it. No bullshit. The honest, real truth.”

I shake my head. “It’s embarrassing.”

“More embarrassing than apologizing for having nipples?” he says, with a teasing smirk.

I frown at him. “Are you making fun of me?”

He laughs. “A little. But it’s called teasing. It was cute.”

“I was flustered. I’m still flustered. You’re famous and important, and I’m no one—just some dumb girl who posted a ridiculous, desperate TikTok video. Why it’s viral, I don’t even know.”

“I’m not important, just famous. And you’re not no one, nor are you dumb.You’reimportant.”

“Why? Because I’m dying?”

“Because you’re brave. And talented.”

I wrinkle my nose at him, and I hate the way my eyes sting. “Talented?”

“Yeah. Your cover of that song wasbeautiful, Jo. I mean that. Objectively, as a musician, you’retalented.”

“Oh.” I can’t help a little smile. “Really?”

“Yeah, really.” He squeezes my hands. “Now…please, Jo. I drove thirty-something hours for this. Why did you make that video? And no trite, self-deprecating answers. The truth, please.”

“I guess I owe you that, huh?” I smile wryly.

“No, you don’t owe me anything. But it would mean a whole lot if you told me.”

I sigh. Swallow hard. “I…I don’t know. It’s a lot of things.” I close my eyes, because it’s too hard to look at him and speak my truth. “You want the truth, Wes? It’s not pretty.”

“The truth rarely is.”

“It really was an act of desperation. I told you, I’ve had this my whole life. Since I was a little girl. I’m nineteen, now, and probably won’t see twenty.” I swallow hard. “I’ve never been on a date. Never held a boy’s hand. Never been kissed. I never will—none of it. I know that. So, making that video, I guess it was…I dunno. A morbid joke, maybe? Like, I have nothing to lose, so why not propose on TikTok to the most famous and most beautiful and most talented guy in the whole world? And, by the way, I’ve had a monster crush on you since I saw that video of you with Swan Song. You’re my celebrity crush. And I was like, what do I have to lose? Even if you were to see it, I figured you’d, like, share it. Send me a signed hat or something. So what? I have, like, a hundred followers on TikTok and they’re all friends from various oncology units and infusion centers. I honestly have no clue how it blew up, and I’m freaking mortified that it did. So why did I post it?”

I huff and shake my head, shrug. “I guess to…to express out into the world that I’m sad and angry that I’ll die a virgin. That I’ll die never having been a bride. I’ve always tried to be positive and upbeat, to not let this whole thing get me down, you know? But it’s not freakingfair, and that video was…kind of a tongue-in-cheek way of being like, now what, universe? Your move.”

There’s a silence. Thick and fragile and fraught.

He still has my hands—he twists his palm, fits it to mine. His fingers delve between mine. I force my eyes to his, and his gaze is…deep, chaotic, confused, emotional. Open to me.

“Jo, I…” he trails off. Lets out a breath. “This is crazy, but screw it. I drove all the way here on an impulse, so I’m just gonna keep going with the impulse.”

“What’s crazy?” I ask in a whisper.