2. Karolina Rivas

"Karo, is that you?" my sister called out, and I rolled my eyes.

"Who else would it be?" I teased as I shut and locked the door behind me.

"I don't know," she said, her head turned to face me as she sat on the couch. "Maybe a tall, dark, and handsome guy with piercing blue eyes and big?—"

"Abby!" I laughed and shook my head because my sister had a flair for the dramatic.

"What? Hands! Big hands! What did you think I was going to say?" she asked, but the traviesa, mischievous gleam said otherwise.

"You're terrible." I laughed, kicking off my shoes at the door next to hers and headed to the kitchen.

"I don't know about terrible. You're the one with a dirty mind!" she teased, and I laughed. "But a girl can dream." She shrugged. "I mean, how else am I going to meet someone?" She frowned and then winked.

My sister was a homebody through and through. She was two years older than me and hadn't gone on a date for about five.

"You want to meet a burglar?" I laughed. "You're crazy."

"Maybe." She winked. She stood, and I didn't miss her wince. "Or maybe I need to lay off the stalker romances." She smiled through the pain. My sister was a huge romance junkie. I chewed on my lip.

"Your back hurting?" I asked, knowing it was only going to piss her off. She shrugged without meeting my eyes but didn't answer because we both knew it was. "You know what would help…" I started to suggest, but when her dark eyes met mine, I shut the hell up.

I knew that look.

"If you tell me to stretch or go for a swim, I'll smack you."

"I know," I mumbled and then took a chance. "Maybe a hot bath? With some Epsom salts?" I recommended because I couldn't help myself but immediately regretted it. The trepidation was clear in her gaze, but that wasn't anything new.

My sister wasn't a fan of water.

Not anymore.

Not that she had ever loved swimming or going to the ocean like I had. Where you couldn't get me out of it since I'd been little, she'd always stayed on the beach with a book while sitting under a huge umbrella. But things changed dramatically six months ago after an accident had left her trapped inside her car in a ravine. Who could blame her?

"Want me to rub it?"

"Maybe tomorrow." She smiled. "I'm fine. I promise. I just worked too long. There was a tough account, and I know better. I'll work from the treadmill tomorrow." This was her way of gently asking me to drop the subject. She was a bookkeeper for a couple of businesses in town and started working from home after her accident.

"Okay. Did you have dinner?"

"I did," she shared, and relief hit my stomach. I hated cooking. I burned water while Abby could prepare a five-course meal without blinking. We were opposites in every way. "I left you a plate in the microwave."

"You're the best." I grinned, and she shook her head. Abby headed over to the kitchen and leaned against the breakfast counter.

"Did you get new rocks painted?" she asked, and I nodded. "How many?"

"Two." I shrugged. "This one." I pulled a palm-sized smooth river rock out of my bag before pulling the strap over my shoulder and setting it on the counter. I handed it to her and watched her closely. I loved watching her reactions.

"Karo," she whispered. Her dark eyes softened. A peaceful smile filled her face. "Esta linda. This is beautiful." Her fingertips skimmed the scene I'd created on the smooth surface. I'd painted Poppy Beach's pier with a shooting star. I set a minute on the microwave and turned to look at her.

"It's not a big deal. It was pretty easy to paint." I shrugged off.

"You're so talented," she complimented me, but I braced because I knew what came next. "And you waste it," she muttered.

I'd been right. It was the same old argument.

Abby thought I should have gone to art school or tried to pursue an art career, but she didn't understand I was happy with my life. I was twenty-five. We owned a nice duplex thanks to my grandparents, who had left it to us before they moved to Florida. I lived next door to not only my sister but my best friend. We had a nice-sized backyard, and we were only a ten-minute walk from the beach.

"I don't waste it." I laughed.

"You leave rocks all over the beach. For free." This was the part that killed her. Where I was creative, my sister was all about numbers. "Do you have any idea how much people would pay for this?" She lifted it up, and I smiled because I wasn't in the mood to argue. I'd been close to finishing the rock when I'd seen a star shoot across the sky. After making a wish, I'd felt like something had changed. But nothing happened. I'd left my Believe rock where I'd been sitting and left.

"I'm happy, Abby. I don't need much. Plus, who else can say they have their dream job at my age?"

"Karolina, you work at a rec center." She rolled her eyes, as if working for the city was the worst possible thing. But I loved it. I'd started there as a volunteer as a teenager during the summer and had worked my way up.

"Yeah, but I'm in charge of the art camps and classes. I'm not sweeping the halls anymore. I'm the city's recreational arts director," I reminded her. She stared at me and exhaled.

"Fine. You're right. I didn't mean to pick a fight."

"I'm not the one fighting." The microwave beeped, and I carefully pulled out my reheated dinner. "You make the best spaghetti."

"It's not the best. It's decent."

"It's world famous compared to whatever I made if I tried." That made both of us giggle. I was the absolute worst in the kitchen and was woman enough to admit it. I grabbed a fork and dug in. The flavors burst on my tongue, and I groaned. "What would I do without you?"

"Be DoorDash's best customer," she teased, but she wasn't far off from the truth.

"Have you thought any more about the landscaping?" I asked, pointing toward the backyard with my fork. She chewed on her lower lip. This was new. I'd been ready for her to shake her head and change the subject.

But she didn"t.

My parents had wanted to gift us with a backyard remodel. Originally, they'd brought it up a year ago, and we'd talked about putting in a pool. But after her accident, they hadn't brought it up again until two weeks ago.

"Yes," she surprised me by saying.

"That's good. Maybe we could get a couple egg chairs and?—"

"I was thinking we should get a pool," she blurted, and I blinked. Once. Then twice.

"A pool?" I repeated. I was probably looking at her like she had grown two heads. "A pool?"

"Yeah." Her fingertips nervously tapped the breakfast counter. "I've been thinking about it."

"Abby, you won't take a bath, but you want a pool? In the backyard? Our backyard?"

"I was thinking I might take swim lessons."

"You know how to swim?—"

"That was before—" Her voice cracked, and I frowned.

"Abby, if you're doing it for me?—"

"No." My sister shook her head "It's for me. I've been thinking about it."

"You have?" She opened and shut her mouth.

"What? Wait, when did this happen? I mean, I'm happy for you, and if you want, I'll ask the aquatics director for an instructor they might recommend?—"

"No!" She blurted. I scrunched my nose. She was acting suspicious.

"Okay," I drawled slowly. "Okay, I won't talk to him. So, what? This is just… maybe something you're contemplating right now?"

"Yeah. I mean… what do you think?"

"Lessons might be good just to help get you comfortable around water again and?—"

"No." She pressed her lips together. "I mean, yeah, lessons might be something I'll want to look into, but I got it. I can handle it."

"Okay…" I walked over to her and reached for her hand. "Anything you need, I'm here."

"I know. I love you."

"Love you, too. So, you might want to get a pool done? Really?"

"Yes." Abby's wide eyes almost smiled. "I think I'm ready."

This was good.

Really good.

Anything to help her. I knew personally how hard the last six months had been for her. The nightmares she'd had that first month afterwards and how she slept in my bed for two.

"Okay, how about we do this? I'm good with anything you wanna do back there. You're in charge."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I just want an egg chair, and I'll be good." I didn't need much.

"That's it?"

"That's it. Just don't push yourself too much. Take whatever you need to do at your own pace."

"I won't. I promise." She smiled in a way I hadn't seen in a long time. Abby let go of my hand and hugged me. "I'll call Mom and Dad." She pulled away, and I grinned.

"Sounds good." I winked. She left the living room and headed into her side of the duplex. I grabbed my bowl and headed toward my side.

I walked into my bedroom and straight to the balcony, up the stairs that led to the roof. When we had moved in, I had called dibs on the roof. My practical sister hadn't blinked an eye and said I could do anything I wanted up there.

And I had.

It had taken a little convincing, but I had managed to talk my brother and his best friend into helping me carry patio furniture and an oversized chair up here, but it had been worth it.

Other than the beach, it was easily one of my favorite places in the world. The three-sixty view was incredible. The air was still warm and slightly humid, but it was something you got used to living at the beach. I got comfortable and breathed in. I was tired but not enough to call it a night yet.

From where I sat, I could look out at the beach. The waves rolled in and out in the most calming way. Part of me wanted to go back out there just to sit and let the waves touch my bare feet while I looked out at the horizon.

I loved the beach, but there was something so mysterious, almost magical about it at night. It felt different today. The way the moonlight hit the water and made it glimmer. But it was late. Poppy Beach was a small coastal town most tourists drove right past without knowing it.

It was safe, but there was no reason to go looking for trouble.

My eyes rose to the sky. It was dark and endless, but the stars tonight were sparkling brighter than ever. My lips tipped upward as I thought about the shooting star I'd seen fly across the sky. It had been beautiful. Realistically, I knew wishing on them didn't mean much, but I couldn't help myself.

I wished to find something more.

I hadn't lied to Abby. I was happy with what I was doing. I loved it. But I was missing something. Something more than my nine-to-five or family or friends. I had never been the type of girl who needed a boyfriend. I was comfortable with my own company, always had been.

Which may be why it surprised me when I had the rare opportunity of a shooting star, I wished for something more, someone to share my life with.

I shook my head and headed inside.

Wishing on stars?If Abby knew this, she'd ask me if I would ever grow up.