Sealed with a Wish

by Rose David

  I scoffed. “That’s Nat-speak for saying the movie wasn’t total crap, but mostly it was.”

  Natalie rolled her eyes. “You have to take your chances with independent movies. Some are really good, some are kind of random.”

  “No kidding,” I said. “Well, this week, I’m bringing a classic of western cinema, guaranteed to be awesome.”

  “Sixteen Candles?” said Nat. “Haven’t you watched that two million times already?”

  I gave Nat a Not-in-Front-of-the-Boy look. If my love for Jake Ryan became public knowledge, I’d totally lose any lingering badass credibility from my supposed stint in the Israeli army. “Actually, I was thinking about the Forty-Year-Old Virgin,” I said airily.

  Raj nodded in approval. “An oldie, but a goodie. I’m in for Friday night.”

  Although she had always had a problem with the “stereotypical male-female dynamics,” even Nat couldn’t deny the brilliance of a good manscaping gag. “Classic,” she agreed.

  #

  Back at school, I stood at my locker, frowning down at the Chem book lolling at the bottom. Maybe if I waddled down to the main office, Mrs. Bradshaw would spot me another pair of Mom Jeans.

  I sighed and reached down, groaning as the waistband of my pants dug into me. My stomach felt tighter than ever, but not because of the sweet six-pack abs I had always wanted. “Try the Wong Workout,” I muttered.

  “What?” said someone behind me.

  I jumped, barely holding back a burp as I regarded Sean. “Nothing. I didn’t say anything.”

  He squinted at me for a second, confused, then shook his head. “Good news.” He held his cell phone up to show me the text message onscreen:

  Need to reschedule Friday’s baseball game, it said. Going to dinner with Mom that night. Love, Dad.

  “Whoa,” I said. “That was fast.”

  Sean grinned. “I bet they really want to see each other. My mom’s been really loopy for the past couple of days. I keep catching her staring off into space. You know, in a good way.”

  Imagining the dewy look in Jennifer’s eyes last weekend, I nodded. “You think they’ll kiss then?”

  “I’m pretty sure they will. If they’re into each other again, why wouldn’t they?” He grinned. “Maybe they’ll start making out in the car or something!”

  “That would be awesome,” I said. “Hold on. Aren’t we supposed to be creeped out by that, or something?”

  “Yeah, well, don’t get me wrong. It’s gross, but still really cool.”

  “Right. Gross, but good.” I slammed my locker shut and was ready to say goodbye, but something in Sean’s face made me pause. From the way he shuffled his feet, I could have sworn he looked...

  Nervous?

  Why would Sean be nervous around me all of the sudden? Between his puke and my Hello Kitty bathrobe, we were practically old friends.

  I lingered in front of my locker, not knowing what I was waiting for. Soon, the silence between us felt like a rubber band ready to snap.

  “Guess I’d better go,” I said, taking a step back.

  Sean’s eyes grew wide, as if I had startled him. He nodded briskly. “Sure. See you later.”

  “Okay.” I was still reluctant to leave, but when Sean only looked down at the floor, I shrugged and turned to walk away.

  “Hey, Layla?” Sean’s hand hooked carefully around my elbow, and I stopped. Goose bumps prickled over my forearm, buzzing under the gentle pressure of Sean’s fingers. Half of me wanted to shrug his hand away, while the other half...

  I had no idea what it wanted, and I was suddenly too distracted to figure it out. “Umm, yeah?” I said.

  “Do you want to...?” Sean cleared his throat. “I mean, I know you’re probably going to stay in the house on Friday. Because of the fainting and stuff, right?”

  “Oh. Yeah, I guess so.” Somehow, I didn’t think it would make a very good impression if I zonked out and started drooling all over Raj’s sofa during this week’s movie night. I’d have to make up a story about a last-minute babysitting job.

  “Well, I was thinking we could hang out or something. You know, wait around for you to pass out?” Sean frowned. “That sounds weirder than it’s supposed to be.”

  “Oh,” was my witty reply. Meanwhile, my brain was spinning.

  Sean bit his lip. “So... Yeah?”

  D’oh. I had forgotten the part where I actually agreed to the whole thing. I didn’t trust myself not to blurt, Is this a date?, so I kept my mouth shut as I nodded.

  “Awesome.” He smiled, making one little dimple press into his cheek. Funny how I hadn’t noticed that before. A note of apology slipped into Sean’s voice as he added, “I know we can’t go anywhere nice because of... Well, you know. Maybe we can just hang out at my house, though. Watch a movie or something.”

  “I’ll bring The Forty-Year-Old Virgin,” I said before I could stop myself. That “classic of Western cinema” must have been fresh on my mind.

  Sean looked puzzled for a second, then scoffed pleasantly. “Cool. I’ll see you then.”

  “Cool,” I echoed.

  We stood together for a moment, not speaking. With a jolt, I noticed how close we had been standing, almost like we were about to kiss, and, abruptly, my cheeks felt blazing hot. I chirped out a goodbye and shuffled down the hall.

  Natalie’s locker was on the way to my next class, so I still had time to grab her and tell her what had happened. She would know whether or not Sean had just asked me on a date--Nat had always been the levelheaded one when it came to boy stuff.

  I rounded the corner, but jerked to a stop when I sighted Natalie. I couldn’t talk to her about this--where would I even begin?

  Hey, Nat, I think Sean Fabry just asked me out on a date, but I’m not sure since we might just be waiting for me to have a fainting spell, I thought. Oh yeah, and you should probably know I’m a genie who still owes him one more wish after this. Any questions so far?

  I groaned. As I passed Natalie, she gave me a quick wave. My stomach lurched, but I pinned a smile on my face and waved back as I ducked into Chem class.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  When Friday night came, I frowned down at the bright orange DVD case, doubt flaring inside me again.

  It wasn’t exactly the best date-movie, but I still wasn’t sure if what Sean and I were doing actually was a date. If this was just a genie-and-wisher-hanging-out-waiting-for-the-fainting-spell kind of thing, then a raunchy comedy might be perfect.

  Mom caught me on the way out the door. “Another date with Sean?” she asked.

  It seemed like too much effort to discuss the ambiguity of the situation, so I just nodded.

  “That’s nice,” said Mom. “He seems like a sweet boy. Are you doing anything special?” she asked.

  “Just hanging out at his house, watching a movie.” I held up the DVD case.

  Mom’s face scrunched with confusion. “Oh. That’s nice, honey,” she said, stepping toward the kitchen.

  “Whoa, no interrogation?”

  She smiled. “Not unless you’d like one.”

  “No, definitely not.” I shook my head. “I’m not complaining. I’m just wondering if you started some meds I don’t know about.”

  “Funny.” She paused, her soft eyes turning serious. “I want you to know that your father and I have been really impressed with you lately. You haven’t complained at all about getting permission for camp, and that shows a lot of maturity.”

  “Oh, umm, thanks.” I squashed an urge to shuffle my feet.

  “Now, this is nothing official, so keep that in mind. But we’ve been discussing it a lot and, well, maybe you could go to camp this summer.”

  I gasped. “Mom! Oh my gawd, that’s awesome! I--”

  “Maybe,” she repeated, holding up a hand. “It’s not set in stone. We’ll talk about it again when we find out you’ve gotten in.”

  “‘When?’” I chuckled. “More like, ‘if,’ Mom.”

  “Honey,
you’re really talented. You’ve got to give yourself more credit.”

  I thought of the severed-finger-banana picture lingering on the memory card of my camera, along with dozens of other photos I hadn’t had time to sort yet. “Maybe,” I conceded.

  Mom smiled as she strode toward the kitchen. “Make sure you have your cell phone with you.”

  I chuckled. Impressed or not, some things never changed.

  #

  “What do you think most people would wish for?” Sean asked, turning away from the television screen.

  From my spot beside him on the sofa, I shrugged and crushed a handful of popcorn into my mouth. As I chewed, I considered the question. “Sex, probably,” I said after a minute. “That would make sense. Most of the stories I know are a couple of hundred years old, but usually it’s some combination of fame or money or power, which would equal sex, too.” I frowned, thoughtful. “Or the hand of a beautiful princess, which I guess would also mean sex.”

  “Wow. That’s kind of a cynical way to look at it.”

  I had to laugh. “Well, it’s not hard to think that way when your ‘master’ has a Hooters calendar hanging inside his locker.”

  Sean pulled a face. “Huh?”

  “Tell me something: when you go to Hooters, does it cost extra to have them lean way down when they put the food on the table, or is that just part of the meal?”

  Instead of getting all red-faced and nervous, Sean only cocked an eyebrow. “For a chick, you know a lot about Hooters, don’t you?”

  “What?” I resisted the urge to stick my tongue out. “It’s common knowledge. Duh.”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “It is!”

  “Guess I wasn’t paying attention to that part in health class.” He chuckled.

  “Uh-huh. Just so you know, I’m officially counting the seconds until I can turn you into a pink nematode.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” He pawed the popcorn bowl and, through a full mouth, told me, “It’s Griffin’s calendar, anyway. I’m not going to tell him to take it down. It’s his locker, too.”

  “Hold on a second. You share a locker with Todd Griffin?”

  “Yeah. So what?”

  “I... Nothing. Never mind.” I shook my head, not sure why I was so glad to know this. Resolutely, I turned my attention back to the movie. We had already finished The Forty-Year Old Virgin, and were about halfway through a second gross-out comedy.

  By now, my doubts about the evening had mostly evaporated. We had fallen into an easy conversation just like usual, and (at least for me) a lack of awkwardness usually meant a lack of a date.

  Sean looked at his watch. “They’re definitely out of dinner by now. Maybe they’re getting a coffee or something.”

  Glancing at the clock, I noticed I only had an hour or so before my curfew would force me back home. I could definitely think of worse ways to spend an evening than laughing at crude humor and eating tons of buttery popcorn, but I hoped that Sean’s parents would hurry up and get back together, or else I might have to break curfew.

  Even so, I couldn’t blame Sean’s Mom and Dad for being a little reluctant to get back to the kissy stuff. After getting divorced and everything, they must have had a lot to talk about. Sean and I were just lucky that things hadn’t been totally shot between them, otherwise how else could we have brought back all those mushy feelings?

  Glancing at the happy photos on the wall, I tried to imagine what had lead to the end of their marriage. It had been so easy to make Sean’s parents fall in love again that it was hard to believe they had ever wanted to break up.

  Sean was about to turn back to the movie, but he paused at the curiosity that must have been stenciled across my forehead. “Something wrong?” he asked.

  I should wish for a better poker face, I thought.

  Shaking my head, I replied, “Nothing. It’s so none of my business.”

  “What do you mean?” As he followed my stare to a cluster of photos, comprehension broke over his face. “Oh. That.”

  “Sean...”

  He shook his head. “It’s cool. I don’t know why they split up, either.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. I didn’t know if I was apologizing for the divorce, or for bringing it up. Either way, it was the only thing I could say.

  “Yeah.” He took a deep breath, his face clouded with thought. When he looked back at me, his voice was so muted that I had to lean closer to hear. “They didn’t fight or anything. It’s not like with my friends who say their parents were always yelling at each other, you know? One day they just sat me down and told me it was over.”

  A scene flashed into my mind: Sean coming home from school, his parents waiting together at the kitchen table the way mine always did when they wanted to have a serious discussion. I felt a rush of gratitude that none of these talks had ever ended with my parents separating.

  “What did they say?” I asked.

  “My dad talked, mostly. He told me that he’d thought a lot about it, and he just wasn’t happy enough.”

  I blinked. “Come again?”

  “Heh. Yeah, I didn’t get it, either. It’s weird to think about.” He smirked and gestured around at the matching portraits and (I guessed) at the house itself. “I mean, what else could he want?”

  “What everybody wants,” I heard myself say.

  Sean looked too confused even to form words.

  I fumbled for a reply, willing myself to say something at least semi-coherent. “Maybe I’m completely wrong here,” I managed, “but I think he just wants to be himself, you know? Sometimes people think they need to make big changes to do that.” I held my breath, the knot of anxiety growing heavier in my stomach as the seconds passed.

  “Yeah, maybe he did need to leave, to find himself or whatever. I don’t know. I guess I don’t really have to get it. It is what it is.” He scoffed and shook his head. “Man, I didn’t think I’d ever say something like that.”

  “And that’s... good?” I ventured.

  “Yeah, actually it kinda is.” One corner of his mouth twitched up. “You know, I used to sit right here all the time, just thinking about how it used to be around here, when everything was supposed to be so perfect.”

  “What do you mean, ‘supposed to be’?”

  “It’s hard to explain. When they split up, it really sucked at first, but now it’s okay. I mean, Mom’s in school again, and she seems happier now. And Dad’s way more relaxed, so I guess that’s cool.”

  “Yeah. That is cool.” I bit my lip, hesitating before I added, “Maybe things will go back to where they were before... But like, better this time.”

  Sean nodded, a slow smile playing at his lips. “Guess you’re not that cynical, huh?”

  “You wish.” I tried to smirk, but my mouth insisted on wearing a smile. To make up for it, I lightly elbowed Sean in the side.

  But instead of hitting his stomach, I felt my arm catch in Sean’s grip. I yelped, laughing, and tried to pull away, but he didn’t let go immediately. We both seemed to realize at the same time how close we suddenly were, how we were sitting face-to-face, almost touching.

  Almost.

  “Layla,” he said quietly. My name had never sounded nicer. “I’m really glad I found your ring.”

  Nervously, I tried to make a joke about world peace, but the words wouldn’t come because, suddenly, Sean was leaning toward me. When his eyes fixed on my face, I felt a pleasant shiver run across my skin.

  I had no idea who kissed who, but the next second, my eyes were closed and Sean’s mouth was pressing into mine. My head spun with the taste of salt and soda and spearmint.

  When we broke away from each other, I felt all warm and tingly, like I had been sitting in the sun too long. Sean’s hand lingered on my cheek, but instead of staring down at my feet, I looked back at him without embarrassment.

  Before I could regret it, I curled my fists into his shirt and pulled him closer. That was when a static shock jumped over me, and a haze fi
lled my vision. My mind swirled as, somewhere, Sean’s parents kissed and his second wish was finally granted.

  A moment later, I blinked up at Sean again. My lips still felt as if they were buzzing, and whether it was from the magic or the kiss, I couldn’t tell.

  “Wow,” I blurted.

  “No kidding,” said Sean.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  If anyone had asked me how I spent the rest of the weekend, I would have shrugged and told them, “Oh, just kissing, mostly.”

  Obviously I had done other things (there had to have been a certain amount of sleeping and eating going on) but the kissing parts where all I could really remember. It was like I had been walking through a fog.

  But, you know, in a good way.

  On Sunday night, I crawled into a fresh, steaming bubble bath, the perfect end to the best weekend of my life. Lolling among the mountains of pink-tinted bubbles, I sighed contentedly.

  I’ve kissed Sean Fabry five times, came a lovely, perfumed thought. And yeah, I had been counting.

  Thinking about this weekend was strange and awesome and confusing, all at once. A few weeks ago, I would have scrambled time to avoid Sean, but now I had to admit I was sort of glad he had found my ring (and not just because of the five kisses, either).

  Admittedly, his first wish had been kind of a bust, but the success of his second wish had more than made up for that. Right now, Sean was at a “special family dinner” with his parents, which they had probably arranged to announce their decision to get back together. If the pictures on the wall lived up to even half the hype, it had definitely been worth the stress of losing my ring.

  If I had known even a week ago that I’d be thinking that tonight, I would have strapped myself into the nearest strait jacket and called for the guys in white coats. Twirling the scented water through my fingers, I smiled.

  It was strange to think that I hadn’t held my ring in almost three weeks now, but not as strange as how little I had missed it. It would be nice to have my ring back, though, when all this wish drama was done.