Nova sits up, eyes sparkling like she’s just revealed the meaning of life. “My name isNova!And your birthday’s December eleventh. You’re a Sagittarius!”
I nod. “Go on.”
Lying back, I watch as she gestures wildly, full of energy. She’s so cute when she’s caught up in a subject she loves.
“A supernova erupted in your zodiac constellation! Even space knows we’re destined to be friends forever.”
She finally drops back down beside me, her face glowing with conviction. “What do you think?”
“I think you’re super smart.”
She doesn’t reply, but her smile mirrors mine.
“I mean it,” I add softly. “You’re really smart. You know all these random, beautiful things no one else does. Do you remember what we were doing on March 15?” I ask her.
She immediately opens her eyes and gives me a curious look.
“Think about it,” I encourage.
Nova sighs and rolls onto her stomach. “Uhm...”
Minutes pass as she ponders. I pull my phone from my jeans pocket, scrolling through the gallery until I find the photo that should jog her memory and I hand it to her.
It’s the one she took seven months ago—the moment I threw a glass bottle into the river with a rolled-up sheet of paper inside. On it, she had written:“Nova Elizabeth Dehlia Marshall and Vincent Cooper declare that they are legally the best friends of all universes in existence. No opposition will be deemed relevant.”
Her gaze shifts to the date, and her eyes widen. A toothy smile spreads across her face. “See, it’s a sign! Our friendship’s written in the stars! Oh, my god! We’re like a prophecy! Wait—prophecies don’t even make sense here. There’s no prophecy to reveal, but still—we’re written in the stars! Ours is a friendship written in the sky!”
My phone slips from her hand when she pounces on me, rolling us both across the lawn. “It’s no coincidence that a million stars with the same name as mine decided to burst into the constellation of your zodiac sign!” she laughs.
I laugh with her as we tumble across the meadow, grass staining our clothes.
“You’re right, fine—we’re written in the stars. But please stop before I throw up!”
“But it’s fun!”
“Please!”
She rolls her eyes. “Okay, okay.” Then, giggling, “But you were having fun. Admit it.”
I smile and nod. “A lot. After all, wearewritten in the stars, aren’t we?”
Nova props herself up with her arms on my chest, chin resting on them. Her dark hair is a messy swallow’s nest, and the white flowers on her T-shirt are streaked green from the grass. Her big doe eyes study me with serene intensity.
“I like the way your glasses fit,” she says softly. “You look like Andrew Garfield inThe Amazing Spider-Man.”
Heat floods my cheeks. A strange tingle runs down my legs because Nova has the world’s biggest crush on Peter Parker—and especially Andrew Garfield. She keeps a poster of him in her closet, right under Seth Cohen’s.
The idea of her comparingmeto him makes my stomach twist in the strangest, most pleasant way.
She keeps staring at me, her eyes burning into mine, and all I want to do is hug her. Hold her hand. Never let her go. We’re always close, but right now I want more—closer than ever.
She’s gorgeous. Not just pretty—gorgeous.Beautiful, radiant, wonderful. The sun kisses her face, and her sweet smile is all for me. Her hands brush against my skin, setting me on fire.
“I... uhm... I don’t like having to wear glasses,” I murmur, trying to ground myself.
“You okay?”
I nod, running a shaky hand through my hair. “Great.”
