They lay next to each other, facing the starry night sky. His hand was intertwined with hers, and their legs were crossed together. The picnic blanket beneath them was one from Gallagher—they had "borrowed" in from the janitor's closet. It was a chilly night, and Macey began to shiver.
"Are you cold?" Preston asked.
"I'm fine," Macey replied with a laugh.
Preston raised his eyebrow and took off his sweatshirt. He pulled it over her head and gave her a sweet smile. She accepted its warmth gratefully.
Macey laid her head on Preston's chest, and he put his arm around her waist.
"I love you," Macey said into Preston's shoulder.
"I love you, too."
A beautiful shooting star danced in the sky above them, and as it flew across the world in a blaze of fireworks, Preston leaned down to whisper in Macey's ear, "Make a wish."
She snuggled in closer to his body and whispered back, "I don't want anything else."
And he kissed her.