Excerpt of Wishing You Were Here by Catherine Chant

Callie approached the departure area and slowed. Her lack of a plan and a growing sense of what–the–hell–am–I–doing interrupted her frantic actions. What could she accomplish by finding Joey Tempo, anyway? She'd only seen the teen idol in pictures. Would she even recognize him in person? Another few steps and she had her answer. She inhaled sharply.

He'd been standing with his back to her, but now he turned to speak to a man behind him. He held a dark blue suit jacket by the collar and casually flung it over his left shoulder. Her knees threatened to buckle when she saw his face. She rested her shoulder against the wall to keep from crumpling to the floor.

"This has got to be a dream," she whispered. "Leah's right. I've gone crazy. I'm having a breakdown or something. Hallucinating." Their argument about dead musicians returned with complete clarity.

But Joey looked so alive. So real. And so completely and utterly adorable. Crisp white shirt, a blue patterned tie loose on his neck, tan pants. Her heart beat so fast her entire body trembled. Trying to steady herself, she glanced around the airport again. Wake up, Callie. Wake up. Wake up before you make a fool out of yourself. She even pinched her arm. But images of 1957 continued to pass before her eyes.

This couldn't be happening. It wasn't possible.

But watching Joey move and talk to the people near him, she began to believe the impossible. He looked like every other person in the airport—ordinary. Except he wasn‘t ordinary, as far as Callie had deduced from reading about him, and she could not have dreamed him up in such detail. He paced, stealing frequent glances at his wristwatch. She could actually see the worry lines across his forehead.

He's anxious to go home. A lump caught in Callie's throat. But he won't make it.

Every time he smiled, her heart broke a little more. Why did she have to see this? It had been bad enough to read about it when he was just a picture in a magazine. But now...

Callie's breath trembled. Standing before her was a living, breathing person. A guy who had no idea he was going to die in a few hours. A boy her age with such phenomenal talent he could make music history.

He was so young, so vibrant... He deserved...

More than he got.

She forced back tears as a sense of purpose rose within her. She could stop this. She could save him. Give him another chance to show the world what he could do. If this was a dream, she'd make sure it had a happy ending.

Callie took a step forward, then hesitated. A group of five girls approached Joey's party only to be pushed back by two men in dark suits. Her heart sank. Bodyguards. She'd never get near him.

Callie twisted the newspaper in her hands and struggled with indecision. The intercom system sounded overhead.

"...Global Airlines flight 632 is now boarding at gate three..."

Joey and his group reached for their carry–on luggage and something in Callie's mind snapped with terrifying force. Hundreds of thoughts and emotions battled inside her, but she focused on only one. Save Joey.

Callie rushed past the two guards, who were still distracted by the giggling mass of girls, and stopped within a few feet of Joey. The moment their eyes met, speech deserted her. Only minutes earlier those gorgeous blue eyes had graced an album cover lying on her bed back in Dover Heights. How had she gotten to this point?

Joey smiled and Callie's heart hammered. He had such a trusting face. Such a beautiful, trusting face. He probably thought she wanted his autograph. He had no idea his life was in danger. How did you tell someone that?

Callie swallowed hard. "Joey, you can't get on that plane."