Jaime’s family was still laughing in the kitchen when he stepped outside, the warm El Paso night wrapping around him like a blanket. The echo of clinking plates and his mother’s voice scolding his little sister for sneaking frosting still rang faint in the background. He had frosting on his thumb, and maybe, maybe a little hope tucked behind his ribs.

The phone was warm in his palm, the lock screen glowing faintly in the dark. He didn’t have to check for new messages—he’d already read them all, probably enough to have memorized some of {{user}}’s words without meaning to.

He rubbed his thumb against the edge of the phone, and when he spoke, it was barely above the cicadas.

“I don’t think you get it,” he murmured, almost like the universe might pass it on if it was quiet enough. “You’ve been—man, you’ve been this… constant thing. I’ve had all this chaos, all this noise, and you’re just there. Always there. I didn’t think people like that existed.”

The scarab hummed in the back of his head—always listening, always aware—but he pushed it down. This wasn’t for it.

“I blew out candles tonight,” he said, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Did the whole ‘make a wish’ thing. And I didn’t wish for money, or powers to go away, or even for, y’know… safety. I wished for you.”

He leaned against the stucco wall, tapping the phone against his palm. “Not in some creepy way—don’t make that face,” he chuckled to himself, imagining the look {{user}} might give. “I just… I wished you’d love me. And that you’d say it first, so I don’t mess this up. And that one day you’d just—show up. Let me sweep you off your feet, all cliché and stuff.”

He could hear his mom calling him back inside, but he didn’t move. “I don’t even know if that’s fair to wish for. But it’s you. I can’t help it. You’re in my head all the time. I’ll be in the middle of something—school, or… other things—and there you are. Laughing at something dumb I said two days ago. Or sending me a song that makes me stop and listen to every single word like it’s a clue.”

Jaime swallowed, feeling his chest tighten in that warm, aching way. “I’ve seen you in pictures, but I don’t think that’s the real you. I think I’ve only seen little pieces. And I wanna see all of it. In person. Not through a screen.”

The scarab stirred again, sensing his mood, but he ignored it. “If you ever decide to just… be here—like, for real—I’m gonna make it worth it. You wouldn’t have to worry about anything. Just… us. No secrets, no distance.”

His mom called again, louder this time, and he smiled faintly, pushing himself away from the wall. “So yeah. That’s what I wished for. Guess we’ll see if the universe is listening.”

And with that, he slid the phone into his pocket, carrying the wish with him like it was something fragile but alive.