Make My Wish Come True - Softcover

Lippincott, Rachael; Derrick, Alyson

 
9781665937573: Make My Wish Come True

Inhaltsangabe

“Forgiveness, friendship, and vulnerability all shine as brightly as holiday lights in this snow-sprinkled romance.” —Booklist (starred review)

‘Tis the season for holiday hijinks in this “swoon-worthy” (Kirkus Reviews) sapphic rom-com about a rising star and a small town girl going on twelve fake holidates from the New York Times bestselling authors of She Gets the Girl, Rachael Lippincott and Alyson Derrick!

Twelve days of fake dates. Two holidays. One chance to convince everyone they’re in love.

Arden James is Hollywood’s hottest teen actor. Infamously reckless, she’s a constant in the tabloids. But when her messy reputation costs her an audition for her dream role, Arden and her publicist make up a lie to flip the script. Only, for the lie to work, she’ll have to head home for the holidays for the first time in four years.

Caroline Beckett has spent those last four years shining up a stellar portfolio that will get her into a top journalism program and convincing herself she could not be less interested in what her former best friend and first crush has been up to since she left without a word. But when Arden suddenly shows up at her doorstep with the promise of a real byline in Cosmopolitan in exchange for a write up on their “secret romance” and twelve snow-covered holidates in their Christmas-obsessed hometown, Caroline can’t help but be tempted into playing along.

It should be easy enough to stand each other for twelve days to make their dreams come true, right? But when old feelings start to bubble up, so do new holiday wishes that might just have Arden and Caroline falling faster than that Christmas Eve snow…

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Über die Autorinnen und Autoren

Rachael Lippincott is the coauthor of All This Time, #1 New York Times bestseller Five Feet ApartShe Gets the Girl, Make My Wish Come True, and Joy to the Girls and the author of The Lucky List and Pride and Prejudice and Pittsburgh. She holds a BA in English writing from the University of Pittsburgh. Originally from Bucks County, Pennsylvania, she currently resides in Pennsylvania with her wife, daughters, and dog, Hank.

Alyson Derrick is the coauthor of New York Times bestseller She Gets the Girl, Make My Wish Come True, and Joy to the Girls and the author of Forget Me Not, which was longlisted for the National Book Award for Young People’s literature. She was born and raised in Greenville, Pennsylvania. Alyson currently resides in Pennsylvania with her wife, daughters, and dog, Hank.

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Chapter 1: Caroline CHAPTER 1 CAROLINE
“Caroline!”

I snort awake, nearly tumbling out of bed as my younger sister Riley’s voice shoots me into consciousness better than the twelve alarms I snoozed this morning.

That’s what I get for staying up until three a.m. to tinker with my portfolio for my Columbia application, adding in an article I just finished on the local bakery’s heavily guarded, five-generations-old Christmas cookie recipe. Apparently a great-aunt had even killed a man to protect it, which made this piece a bit more high-stakes than the rest of my reporting about our Christmas-obsessed small town….

If looks could kill, though, Riley’s might just do the trick. She leans away from my now defunct left eardrum, arms crossed over her worn forest-green Barnwich Soccer hoodie. “Can we please not be late for once?”

I grunt and groan a “no” in reply, rolling over to rebury myself in my cozy comforter.

“It’s Pancake Tuesday,” she says.

I immediately roll back to face her.

“That’s what I thought,” she adds, before leaving me to my frantic Tuesday-morning routine. I stumble into a pair of jeans and an oversized cardigan, brush my teeth as I pack up my backpack, then add a sweep or two of mascara and enough rings to let people know I like women.

As I head downstairs to the kitchen and the pancakes that are the only thing that could get me out of bed today, Blue, my black-and-white border collie, trots after me, his toenails clicking on the hardwood floors. I smirk when we turn the corner to see Riley spraying a gravity-defying amount of whipped cream directly into her mouth and my two older brothers, Levi and Miles, wolfing down short stacks like it’s their job. They show up to Pancake Tuesdays religiously even though they’re both in their early twenties now.

“Don’t you two have your own house?” I ask as I pour myself a cup of coffee. I turn around just in time for a flapjack to smack me square in the face. Riley snorts as I peel it off and take a bite.

Dad stops his humming over a sizzling pan of turkey bacon and whirls around, apron flowing in the wind, to point his spatula between the four of us.

“One more thrown pancake and you can all forget Pancake Tuesdays for the next year!”

“You’re all talk, old man,” Levi scoffs, shaking his head.

“Just try me, kid,” my dad replies with a challenging smile, but the standoff is interrupted by my mom breezing into the kitchen. Immediately, Dad casts a sideways glance at the clock in the corner, still worried even after twenty-five years about her being—

“Late. I’m gonna be late,” my mom mutters as she steals the coffee cup right out of my hands and takes a sip.

Mom commutes from Barnwich to Pittsburgh every morning to work at the law firm she started with her best friend from college and is almost always running a few minutes behind. My dad tried setting our clocks forward by five minutes once, but it didn’t make a difference. It was like she knew in her bones it was wrong. Thank goodness trains leave the Barnwich station every seventeen minutes, or she’d never make it to work before the morning meeting she schedules.

I guess I get that from her, because when my gaze drifts over to the clock too, I see I have all of a minute and a half to shove the rest of this much-needed pancake into my mouth and get out the door.

“Anyway, we need sustenance,” Miles says, continuing the conversation. “Got a busy night to prep for the bar tomorrow. Bought a karaoke machine two weeks ago, and Karaoke Wednesdays have been a real game changer.” He scrolls through a color-coordinated events calendar on his phone, pinks and yellows and greens flying past.

He and Levi saved up practically every penny since they were both in middle school to open up Beckett Brothers, a bar tucked into the corner of Main Street and Pine, the result of my dad’s obsession with Bar Rescue and their desire to find their own niche in our holiday-centric Pennsylvania town. They carefully renovated the space together after leasing it two Christmases ago at a heavily discounted price from the owner and also our neighbor, Mr. Burton. Then Riley and I were enlisted to help paint and haul Facebook Marketplace finds, paying us in ice cream in the summer and hot chocolate in the winter. This is the first full year they’ve been open for business, and they’ve been giving it all they’ve got to stay afloat and turn a profit. Trivia, speed dating, live music, and now karaoke, apparently. They’ll do anything to keep those doors open. But it’s been hard to watch them struggle like so many businesses in our town have these last couple of years.

“I don’t know about game changer. My ears are still bleeding from last week,” Levi grumbles through a mouthful of food.

So are mine, honestly. He sent me a video of a girl who was attempting to belt out some Celine Dion but sounded like a rooster with a sore throat.

“You’ll still be coming to the Hanukkah party, right?” Mom asks, fingertips tapping against what was once my coffee mug, worried as always about being late but doing nothing to actually move faster. “I told Grandma you’d both be there.”

“Obviously,” Miles snorts, selecting a highlighted day on his carefully curated calendar to prove it. “Missing out on her brisket would be a crime.”

With Mom being Jewish and Dad being Catholic, this time of year is a flurry of Christmas music, latkes, new socks, and… the all-too-familiar disconnect: existing in that liminal space between the two religions.

Not going to church or synagogue but opening Easter baskets and being shipped off to the Jewish sleepaway camp in upstate New York that my mom’s whole family went to. Getting a Christmas tree and exchanging ugly sweaters, but keeping the gifts from Santa to a minimum.

Most of all though: not feeling Christian or Jewish enough, especially in a town with Christmas as its bedrock.

Levi and Miles never seemed to wrestle with that feeling. They’ve managed to find their place here in Barnwich quickly. Even with the articles I write, though, I guess I just haven’t yet.

“You ready to go?” Riley asks me, stuffing one more slice of turkey bacon into her mouth before scrambling to grab her backpack.

I nod as I toss my last bite to Blue, then steal my coffee cup back from my mom for one more sip before heading off down the hallway to bundle up.

“See you guys later!” I call before squishing a beanie onto Riley’s head. I throw open the front door, and the two of us giggle as we slip and slide down the steps and through the snow to Bertha, the ancient silver Toyota Camry Miles was brought home from the hospital in before it was passed faithfully down the Beckett line to me. Riley gets in and starts it up from the passenger seat while I scrape the ice off the windshield just enough.

“Wow, really, Caroline? I still can’t see anything through that,” Riley says as I get behind the wheel.

“I thought you didn’t want to be late,” I reply, throwing my scraper over my head onto the backseat.

“Well, yeah, but I’d also like to get there...

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