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frustrated. “Cally, I
took you to dinner tonight because I wanted to. I don’t like what
they’re saying about you, but my reasons for asking you out were
more selfish than they were noble.”
    She stops and leans one shoulder against the
trunk of a thick maple as she studies me. “How were they
selfish?”
    “I wanted a chance to have some time alone
with a pretty girl.”
    She stares at me for two heartbeats. “I
really like you, William Bailey.”
    I tuck a lock of hair behind her ear then
shove my hands in my pockets to keep myself from touching her more.
“I like you too, Cally Fisher.”
    Her teeth sink down into her bottom lip and
her eyes drop to my mouth.
    I fist my hands in my pockets and let my
exhale slowly. “I really want to kiss you right now.”
    “I really want you to,” she whispers,
flicking her eyes to mine.
    I take a cautious step forward and press my
hands against the tree trunk on either side of her head, then
slowly lower my mouth until it’s a breath above hers. “Has anyone
ever kissed you before?”
    “Yes.”
    Jealousy burns in my gut. It’s silly, but
it’s there at the thought of another guy touching his lips to hers.
“Who?”
    “Davey Mills kissed me on the lips behind
the school in second grade.” Her eyes flash with mischief and she
bites back her smile.
    “Lucky Davey,” I grumble. “Must have been
memorable.”
    “Yes. He kissed me during a game of truth or
dare. I remember he had peanut butter breath.”
    I chuckle, and her face breaks into a
full-out grin. I close the breath between us and brush my lips over
hers. Unlike Cally, I have some experience with this, so I’m
surprised how much it affects me. Just a kiss. An innocent
connection of lips. But the contact is electric and it sends a
shockwave of pleasure through me.
    I slide my hand into her hair, and she opens
under me, meeting the sweep of my tongue with the hesitant touch of
hers. She tastes like sweet tea and makes this soft little sound at
the back of her throat. I break the kiss before I’m ready because
my hands itch to touch her, to slip under her shirt and cup her
breasts, to slide around her hips and squeeze her ass. She’s not
ready for that, and I won’t rush her.
    Her tongue darts out and skims over her
lips. “Come with me.”
    She takes my hand, and I follow her farther
down the path and along the river until there’s a break in the
trees. She leads me onto the grass and sits on the ground.
    I sink to my haunches and settle beside her,
the dew seeping into my jeans.
    “Lie back.” She leans on her elbows and
points to the sky. “This is my favorite spot.”
    We settle onto our backs, bodies aligned,
fingers entwined, and look up at the stars. From this spot, the sky
is all I can see, and it feels like I’m being swallowed up in
it.
    “Tell me something no one knows about you,”
I ask into the silence. It’s probably a stupid request, but I don’t
care. I like her and I want to know more about her.
    “Like what?”
    “Tell me what you wish for when you look up
at those stars.”
    She’s quiet for a long beat, then another.
When I hear the whoosh of her exhale, I think she’s not going to
share anything, but then she says, “Lately, I’ve been wishing that
my parents would get a divorce.”
    That surprises me, and I roll to my side to
look at her as she speaks.
    She winces but continues. “They make each
other miserable, but instead of facing it or doing anything about
it, they both hide. It’s the worst possible thing for my parents.”
She faces me and forces a smile. “Pretty boring stuff, isn’t
it?”
    I trace the worry lines around her eyes
until they relax. “It’s not boring at all. It’s real.” The girls I
know are so proficient at being fake, they could give lessons.
Cally is the opposite of fake. She’s authentic.
    “I just think they could be happier, you
know? And maybe coming out here and making wishes is juvenile, but
I like to think of it as throwing