I can’t stop watching Caspian’s booth at the festival. He’s serving hot chocolate with the same warmth and enthusiasm he always shows his customers, but I can see the tension in his shoulders, the slight strain around his eyes. After helping him pack up yesterday, I’d hoped he might call, but my phone had stayed silent. Now I’m not sure where we stand—if we’re just friends or if there’s still a chance for more.
“You know, stalking isn’t actually romantic,” Addy’s voice makes me jump.
“I’m not stalking,” I protest. “I’m just…”
“Lurking creepily in the shadows?” She raises an eyebrow. “Have you talked to him?”
I run a hand through my hair. “Not since helping him pack up yesterday. I’m trying, but I can’t get close. He’s always surrounded by people, and I don’t know if he even wants to talk to me.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Addy grabs my hand. “Come with me.”
She drags me through the crowd toward the Wishing Tree, its branches heavy with decorations containing people’s hopes and dreams for the new year. My eyes automatically find the spot where Caspian hung his wish last week. I don’t know which one is his, but I know it’s there somewhere.
“Make a wish,” Addy commands.
“You know this is all just?—”
“Make. A. Wish.”
I approach Mrs. Hamilton’s booth near the Wishing Tree, where she’s handing out the official wishing kits—small pieces of parchment paper and delicate glass ornaments. She gives me a knowing smile as she hands me one.
“Write from your heart, dear,” she says, patting my hand. “The tree knows when wishes are sincere.”
I find a quiet spot and stare at the blank paper, pen hovering. Finally, I write what I’m truly wishing for:I wish for a chance to show Caspian how much I love him and to make things right between us.
After carefully rolling the paper and sliding it into the glass ornament, I hang it on the tree among hundreds of other wishes. I feel foolish but desperate enough to try anything. Looking up at the branches heavy with hopes and dreams, I silently add a prayer that this town tradition really does have some magic in it after all.
Addy kisses my cheek. “There. Was that so hard? I’m going to find Hannah.”
As she walks away, someone clears their throat behind me. I turn to find Marcus standing there, arms crossed, wearing an expression that manages to be both threatening and amused.
“So,” he says, “you’re really in love with my best friend.”
My heart skips at his words. “Is it that obvious?”
“Only to anyone with eyes,” he says dryly. “And ears. And basic human perception. You look at him like he personally hung every star in the sky just to make your morning coffee brighter.”
“I don’t?—”
“Oh, you absolutely do. It’s disgustingly adorable.” He steps closer, his expression turning serious. “Listen carefully because I’m only going to say this once. Caspian loves you too. The way he talks about you? It’s like listening to one of those romance audiobooks he’s always playing in his car.”
“Really?”
“God, you’re both hopeless.” Marcus throws his hands up. “Yes, really. And if you hurt him again, I will personally remove your testicles and feed them to the mountain lions in Arizona. I know a guy who knows a guy who works at a place. Don’t test me.”
“I love him,” I say quietly. “But he doesn’t seem to want to talk to me.”
“Then you’re not trying hard enough.” Marcus sighs dramatically. “Look, I flew all the way from Phoenix to potentially murder you, and now I’m actually rooting for you two idiots to work it out. Do you know how exhausting this emotional journey has been for me? The least you could do is make a grand gesture or something.”
Suddenly, I have an idea. “Here,” I say, pulling out my phone and handing it to Marcus. “Type your number in. Can you text me when you’re heading home? Just one alert, that’s all I need.” When Marcus hands my phone back to me, I text him so he has my number.
Marcus studies me for a moment, then nods. “Don’t mess this up,” he says before returning to the coffee stand.
I rush home and call Jasper in a panic. “I need fake candles. A lot of them. Where can I get them?”
My brother’s laughter crackles through the phone. “It’s after hours, genius. Everything’s closed.”
“Please,” I beg. “I need to make things right with Caspian. I can’t mess this up.”
