“I’m serious,” I say. “It was really good, Wyatt. I mean that.”

And I do.

I absolutely do.

“When do you think we can do the audition?” he asks.

Right. I mean, why wouldn’t he be curious? That’s what he’s here for, after all.

“I’ll talk to him about it tomorrow. I should have a chance during brunch.”

“Okay, cool … yeah.”

“Nervous?”

“A little.”

“You’re going to kill it, dude. Just relax. If you play half as good for him as you did for me, he’ll want to see more. And if he doesn’t, I’ll just beat him up until he signs you.”

Wyatt scoffs at me. “You couldn’t hurt a fly, Kearney.”

“Oh yeah?” I reach over, flicking Wyatt on the forehead. “How’s that?”

“Ow!” He winces.

“Big baby.”

Then Wyatt is standing up quickly. And you know, if he were anyone else, I might be afraid of him. It’s probably the height, and the little bit of muscle. But I know he’s a total teddy bear.

Still. For a second there, my heart skips a beat. The dark expression on his face; the way he seems to tower over me in this moment.

Then he flicks me in the forehead.

“Ow!”

“Not so nice, is it?”

“Shove it, Fowler.” I push lightly against his chest, but he hardly budges. And we’re left standing there, inches apart from each other. Me staring up at him, him staring down at me. He reaches up slowly with his fingers. Oh my God, is this happening? Is he going to try to kiss me?

What the fuck?

Why would he do that?

We’re not acting right now; there’s no one to pretend for.

Do I push him away?

Do I say no?

Do I duck away so he knows I don’t want this?

But what if I do?

Wait, what? What am I thinking? Seriously? Kissing Fowler?

Wyatt’s fingers move closer and closer, until he’s reaching for my eye. He carefully plucks something from my cheek.

“Eyelash,” he says, showing me the long black lash on the tip of his index finger. “Make a wish.”

“What?”

“Never heard that? My moms do this all the time. When you lose an eyelash and you catch it before it falls to the floor, you blow on it while making a wish. Then it’ll come true.”

“Pfft, that’s stupid.”

I feel relief. And confusion. Why did I automatically assume that he was just going to kiss me?

And why do I feel a twinge of disappointment?

“Fine, then.” Wyatt huffs in a lungful of air.

“Wait! That’s my eyelash. My eyelash, my wish.”

“Fine.”

I think for a second, and then I blow. The eyelash flies off his finger, to God knows where.

“What did you wish for?” he asks me.

“Won’t that make it not come true?”