11. Veronica
11
Veronica
I ’m in heaven—or at least my version of it—now that I’m back in my happy place. Yesterday’s beach day was fun, and I won’t lie, it was a little ego-boosting having those frat boys blatantly flirt with me. The crazy thing is, my favorite part wasn’t their cheesy pickup lines or how they tried to flex like they were auditioning for a Baywatch remake. Nope. The real fun came when Miles and I went back to the beach later that afternoon. Turns out, hanging out with Broody Bennett of all people is way more satisfying than being hit on. Who knew? Definitely not me.
There was something downright magical about convincing him to ditch his serious side and dive into the waves with me. We spent the entire afternoon splashing around like kids, body surfing and laughing so hard my cheeks hurt. But honestly, the real bliss came later when we stretched out on the sand, soaking in the last rays of the sun while I sketched away. Lying out turned into lazy chatter as he opened up more than I’d ever heard before as we watched the sunset side by side.
However, nothing compares to the magic that is Disneyland. Sure, there may be lots of loud voices, the occasional cry of a young kid, or the sound of a parent who’s finally lost it as they yell at their children, but all I can focus on is the cheerful Disney music, the swooshing and whirring of rides, and the mouthwatering smell of candy, ice cream, and churros.
“Are you kidding me? They seriously expect us to pay almost six dollars for a fu—” I lift a hand to cover his mouth, but he thankfully stops himself before he can use the word that would have a thousand angry parents glancing in our direction. “Churro,” he corrects himself instead. “What are they making it with? Golden cinnamon dust?”
“It might as well be. You’ll see. You might’ve had a churro before, but you’ve never had a Disneyland churro . They’re in a league all their own.” As the people in front of us move aside, we step up to the counter. I quickly order two churros and slide my card over before he has the chance to argue. “My treat,” I say with a sickeningly sweet smile, knowing full well he’s annoyed given the way his jaw hardens. I’m still surprised I somehow managed to stop him from paying my entrance fee earlier. What I don’t get is why he wanted to, especially since the entire morning all he did was grumble about how this place is nothing but a giant overpriced scam.
Everyone knows Disneyland is expensive, but the chance to truly escape reality, be myself, and let go in a whimsical world makes it worth every penny, even if it is a whole lot of pennies.
As the cast member hands us each our churro, I nod for Miles to follow me down the pathway toward the iconic Matterhorn, with its rugged, snow-dusted peak. I can already hear the sound of gleeful screams echoing with each passing bobsled, and while I fully intend to make him climb into one later as we go in search of the great abominable snowman, right now, I have something more important planned.
“Well, go ahead. Take a bite,” I encourage with a nod, holding off on my own gratification since this is another first of his that I’m dying to witness.
He lets out a sigh, seemingly put out by my request, but reluctantly, he lifts the cinnamon stick to his lips and takes a bite. As usual, he’s as stoic as ever as he chews, giving no indication of what’s going on in that thick, hard-headed skull of his.
“Well?” I ask, spinning my free hand, beckoning him to give his opinion.
“It’s fine.” He nonchalantly shrugs, but as he brings the churro up to his mouth for a second bite, I see the slight grimace on his face, and I know that I’ve got him—no one, not even Broody Bennett can resist a Disneyland churro.
“Psh.” I brush him off. “You know it’s more than fine. I can see right through this little tough-guy act of yours and I know you already plan to get another one later, perhaps even one of the funky specialty ones.”
“Would I say no to getting another one?” he asks, still doing his best to hide the smile that so desperately wants to break free. “No, but I also wouldn’t go around claiming this is the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”
“And what is the best thing you’ve ever eaten, Bennett?” I ask, realizing just how flirty and suggestive that sounded—but even so, no regrets.
It’s clear from his widened eyes that he wasn’t expecting that kind of question from me, but he recovers quickly. “I’m not sure I can answer that, since I’m not so sure the answer is appropriate for a little Disney Princess like yourself,” he teases, nodding toward the pair of Mickey ears on my head, which are currently Snow White-themed.
While I hadn’t had a ton of time to plan, I’d luckily been able to Disney-bound my outfit to look like Snow White. Despite my lack of foresight, I had already packed a red tank top and a short, flowy royal blue skirt for my original trip. Then, as soon as we hit Main Street and stepped into the Emporium, I saw these ears, and knew they had to be mine.
It’s all so fitting, especially as I lead him toward Snow White’s Wishing Well. “I may be a Disney Princess, but I can promise you, I’m not as innocent as you may think.” I smile, chin held high, before taking a bite of my churro.
“I’m honestly not the least bit surprised, but I’m also thinking this may not be the best place to discuss this sort of thing,” he says, his eyes darting around the area. Given all the kids and families running around, I’m thinking he may be right—at least this time.
The one good thing, though, is that while a few people are lingering in this area, this particular part of the castle always seems to be a little less crowded than others. It tends to be one of those places many people overlook, and today, I couldn’t be more grateful.
“That’s okay. I don’t think you could handle what I’d have to tell you anyway.” I shrug, loving the way I seem to make him uncomfortable all over again as his jaw clenches. It may be a little mean, but he makes it way too easy.
“So where are we heading next?” he asks, in what I assume is an attempt to change the subject. Given that I’ve been dragging him from ride to ride since the rope drop, I’m not surprised he knows I already have our next destination picked out.
“Right here, actually.” I say, nodding ahead toward the small well only a few short feet in front of us.
“This feels like a bit of a letdown, especially after just getting off Space Mountain and Star Tours.”
I let out a soft laugh. “Well, nothing can really compare to Space Mountain, but I figured we could use a short break from the rides. Plus, not only is this one of the best places to get an amazing photo near the castle, but it’s tradition. Every time I come, I have to make a wish.”
“Great,” he says, rolling his eyes. “You are aware that I’m not Blair, right?”
“Oh, believe me, I know you’re not Blair, and the photos I’ve already made you take make that incredibly obvious. But since you’re all I’ve got, I kind of sort of need you, Miles,” I plead, making sure to pout my lips as I flutter my lashes at him.
“Ugh, let’s just get this over with,” he says, shoving the last bite of his churro into his mouth before wiping the excess sugar off his hands onto his khaki shorts.
“Not yet. We have to make our wish first.” I scoff, as if he’s so ridiculous.
“Let me guess. You’re going to wish that I was Blair and that you'd have brought her over me.”
“No,” I smile proudly. “I mean, sure, I miss Blair and would love to be at Disneyland with her again, but I kind of enjoy being here with you,” I admit, shrugging as I inch closer to the well and look down at all the other coins and wishes that have already been made. “You’re actually not half-bad company, Bennett.”
“Even with me continually complaining about the prices and long lines?” he asks, skepticism lacing his tone.
“Even with all the complaining. I wouldn’t have it any other way,” I tease before holding out my churro for him to hold. Despite looking put out, he does as asked as I slip my bag off my shoulders and reach in for my wallet, finally pulling out two pennies. “Here, switch me back,” I request, grabbing my churro with one hand while dropping a penny into his.
“You really expect me to make a wish?” he asks, tilting his head downward as his brows inch toward his hairline.
“Yes, I do.” I confidently nod. “There’s nothing wrong with believing in a little bit of magic and happily ever after from time to time.”
“Even after everything that happened with Pete?” he asks, and although he sounds rather disbelieving, I can hear the effort he’s making to be understanding, which, coming from him, is sort of touching.
“Yes, even after dating and almost getting married to someone like Pete. Plus, I’m pretty sure most princesses have to kiss a couple of frogs before they find their prince charming anyway.” I dismiss, brushing him off since my ex is definitely the last thing I want to be thinking about today. “Now, stop stalling and start thinking of a wish,” I command.
“Fine,” he gives in and takes a step toward the well.
His lack of enthusiasm is evident, and I can’t say I blame him for not wanting to do something others might consider silly and childish, especially at our age. Maybe I should stop guilting him into things, but part of me knows I should milk this for all it’s worth. I have a pretty strong feeling that the moment we step back into Evergreen Grove, reality will hit as we sink back into our old lives, and he’ll go right back to disliking me as much as he always has.
“So, am I supposed to wait for you to say some kind of magical words or do I just toss it in?” he asks.
It’s impossible to resist the urge to smile as I look over at him. “Look at you, indulging me,” I tease, but it’s not just sweet—it’s irresistibly attractive as he leans over the well, a stray lock of blond hair falling into his piercing cornflower blue eyes. How in the world is it fair that someone as grumpy as him gets to look like a real-life Disney prince?
“I only ask because I’m sure you have more pennies in there, and if I didn’t, you’d make me do it all over again. I just want to get this done and over with,” he explains, his mouth quirking into a grin.
“You’re not wrong. So how about this: I’ll count, and on three we both toss them in?”
He nods in agreement.
“Alright, one,” I begin as I close my eyes. “Two. Oh, wait,” I say, my eyes popping open as I use my hand with the penny inside to point a threatening finger in his direction. “You’re making an actual wish, right? You’re not just going to toss the penny in and waste it?”
His head rolls to the side in frustration, a disgruntled sigh escaping his lips despite the playful smile also stretching across his face. “Yes. I’m making a wish.”
“Okay, good,” I relent, closing my eyes once more. “One. Two. Three,” I continue, holding my hand over the small well releasing the penny, letting it drop toward the bottom.
“So, what did you wish for?” he immediately asks as I open my eyes.
“Can’t tell you, otherwise it won’t come true.”
“Isn’t that just for birthday wishes?” he asks, feigning irritation. Yet, once again, the faintest hint of a smile lingers on his way too handsome face.
“Nope. It’s the universal rule for all wishes. So no telling me your wish either,” I warn, letting my now empty hand trail along the stone as I close the distance between us.
“Well then, how am I ever going to know if this so-called magic you speak of is real if I don’t know if your wish ever comes true?” he asks, pushing himself off the well, and straightening up as I get closer.
“Well, when it comes true, it won’t need to be a secret anymore. So I promise, when my wish inevitably comes true, I’ll tell you,” I assure him.
He lifts a brow. “And what if it never comes true?”
“Oh, believe me, this wish is coming true. All Disney wishes have to come true,” I assure him, tapping a finger on his chest.
That, I am sure of. Things may not have worked out with Pete, and while I have every reason to believe that fairy tales and happily ever afters are just things you read about in books, I know that one day I’ll find my true prince charming. And that was exactly what I wished for when I threw my penny into the wishing well.
“Now,” I begin, letting my hand trail toward his before I yank him toward the castle. “Take my picture, and I’ll reward you with another churro,” I tease, figuring that when it comes to Miles, bribery is definitely the way to go.
“I suppose there are worse ways to get paid than with churros,” he relents, surrendering with a smirk as I pass him my phone. With a playful twirl, I make my way toward the stone wall beside the castle, striking my most princess-like pose, churro in hand, completely ready for my royal close-up.
“Say cheese,” he directs.
“Cheese.” I smile, a giant grin that I’m sure will be plastered on my face for the rest of the day. Not only am I at the happiest place on earth, but I’m also genuinely happy to be here with Miles of all people. From the look of it, he might actually be enjoying himself with me too. I guess what they say is true—Disney miracles do come true.