The rider makes a weird choking sound. ‘I- I love you. I mean- I love hockey. I’m a big fan of yours. You’re a legend.”
“Thanks, man,” Liam says, laughing as he hands over a tip. “I appreciate it. We’re just trying to stay undercover.”
The guy nods like he’s been given sacred instructions. “Say no more.”
As the carriage starts moving, I lean into Liam, still laughing. “You really just broke
someone’s brain.”
He bumps my shoulder with his. “I do that to you all the time.”
I roll my eyes. “Please.”
But I’m smiling. And when he laces our fingers together again, I don’t let go.
With no real destination in mind, we let the rider drop us off at the edge of the woods, near a quiet little path with a wooden sign that reads: Fairy Trail – Leave a wish, take a
memory.
- it.
It’s quiet here. Peaceful. The kind of quiet that makes you breathe easier without realising
“Should we check it out?” Liam asks, already tugging me toward the trail.
“You’re asking like you’d listen if I said no,” I mumble bitterly beneath my breath, but
there’s no heart in it.
The path winds gently through tall trees and patches of wildflowers. All around us, tucked
into roots and balanced on rocks, are tiny handmade fairy houses. Painted pebbles. Little
notes. Popsicle stick castles. Some have glitter. Others have moss roofs.
“Oh my God,” I whisper. “This is adorable.”
“It’s looks like Julie’s Pinterest board,” Liam says, crouching to examine one shaped like a mushroom. “Look – someone made this one out of a teacup.”
We wander a little deeper in, past a hollow log turned into a fairy café and a twig swing hanging from a branch. It feels like stepping into another world.
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Then Liam points to a small open space beside a tree stump. “Let’s make one.”
“What, a house?”
“No,” he says seriously, “a fairy mansion. Five–star. With a pool.”
I snort. “We have no materials. And there’s barely any time left. It’s almost evening.”
“We have imagination.” He grabs a few sticks and a flat rock, then looks up at me. “Also,
I’ve played a lot of Minecraft.”
I laugh, then kneel beside him and start gathering leaves, bark, and anything else that looks vaguely magical.
We work in comfortable silence for a few minutes. Every so often, he glances at me, smiling to himself like he can’t help it.
—
When we’re done, it’s not much just a cozy little shelter made of bark and moss, decorated with flower petals and acorn caps. But it feels perfect.
“There,” he says proudly. “Luxury woodland living.”
A tiny notepad is tied to the tree with a string. I flip through it, reading other people’s wishes: I hope my sister gets better. I wish to marry my best friend. I hope I pass the bar exam.
Liam takes the pencil from me. “Let’s leave one.”
“What should we write?”
He pauses, then scribbles something quickly and tears the page free before I can peek.
“Hey!”
He smiles and tucks the folded note under the roof of our little house. “It’s a secret, love. You’ll find out one day.”
“Unfair.”
“To be fair, I’m extremely mysterious. I’m only trying to live up to my reputation.”
I shake my head, but I’m still smiling when he leans closer.
“You can write one too,” he murmurs. “Anything. No pressure.”
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I think for a second, then write mine. Carefully. Honestly. I don’t let him see.
He doesn’t ask. He just watches me tuck it beside his.
And then he says, softly, “I like doing things like this with you.”
I blink. “What?”
“This.” He looks around. “Doing something quiet. Sweet. Just us. You’re easy to be around.”
I feel my heart do this tiny, giddy flip.
“You make it easy,” I whisper.
He brushes some hair from my cheek. “Let’s come back one day. See if it’s still here. Maybe our wishes will come true by then.”
I nod. “Promise?”
He links our pinkies together without another word.
And just like that, I know I’m already keeping mine.
“Promise.”
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