by Rose David
“Look, I know you think I’m a useless jerk,” he said.
I opened my mouth to protest, but nothing came out. Meanwhile, through the thin cotton of my shirt, Sean’s fingers felt like electrodes on my skin.
He sighed. “But I don’t feel bad about finding your ring. I don’t care if I went to jail, or if my parents aren’t getting back together. It was wor--”
“Wait, what?” Confusion broke through my surprise, and I took a step back to re-order my thoughts. “Your parents aren’t back together?”
Sean shook his head.
“But wait. I fainted last Friday. You saw it. That means the wish worked. They kissed.”
“Yeah. On the cheek,” he said. “On Sunday night, I thought they were going to tell me Dad was moving back in, but that wasn’t it. Not even close.”
My stomach twisted. We had been so careful about specificity, but Sean’s wish had still fallen flat. Without thinking, I felt myself bob closer to him, almost bridging the gap between us. “What happened?”
“They’re not getting remarried or anything. Dad gets to come over once a week, and he and I are going to hang out more.”
“Sean...” I cupped my hand over his shoulder, straining on my tiptoes to look at him eye-to-eye. “I’m really, really sorry.”
A trace of a smile lifted one corner of his mouth. “It’s cool. Maybe it’ll be like you said: ‘different, but better.’”
Up close, Sean smelled like peanut butter and soapy aftershave. If someone made a bubble bath out of that, I’d never leave the tub. Why the hell don’t I want things to be smooth? I wondered. Suddenly, I couldn’t remember...
Abruptly, a blur of magenta sliced through my foggy thoughts like a hot razor.
I flinched away like I had been jolted by electricity, and turned just in time to watch Natalie rush past, her eyes steadfastly on the ground. A breeze curled around us, lifting Natalie’s hair around her face like an angry cloud.
I watched until she had disappeared into the building. My voice was flat as I told Sean, “Call me when you’ve got your third wish. I’ll answer, next time.”
Without waiting for a reply, I walked away. I could feel the heaviness of Sean’s gaze on my back, and, despite the sunshine falling over my shoulders, I shivered.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
I had always liked to think of myself as kind of a loner, and not in that creepy, I-play-too-many-online-RPGs way, but in that cool, I’m-an-independent-spirit-look-how-charismatic-I-am way. However, over the next week of solitary lunches and long evenings with my parents, I found out what a social creature I really was.
By the time Sunday rolled around, I was determined to do something besides mope around the house, so I biked down to the park with my camera, determined to take some snaps. At least there was one thing I could do by myself that didn’t involve feeling like total crap, even if it meant hauling out my old bike from the garage because I was too lazy to walk.
Not like anyone I knew would see me riding my bicycle, anyway. It was a lot like that old question about a tree falling in the forest: if you do something geeky and nobody sees it, does it still make you look uncool?
Yeah, probably, I thought as I wandered down a tree-lined path with my camera in hand.
As I tried to weave around a cluster of screaming kids, I saw that a few of them had done some cute chalk paintings on the sidewalk. I wondered if it was worth the risk to take a photo. Parents tended to get a little weird when you took photos of anything relating to their kids, even if it was just a snapshot of a purple turtle with six heads.
If Nat were with me, she would probably distract everybody with her crazy-colored hair, letting me take all the chalk-art pictures I wanted.
“Ugh, shut up, already,” I told my brain.
From their perch on a bench, two mothers looked up from their US WEEKLY’s to give me sharp looks.
“Oh, I wasn’t talking to the kids,” I said. “I was talking to myself, only I didn’t realize my mouth started moving.”
They only frowned more deeply. One even made a show of fingering a small whistle hanging around her neck.
Did I actually look that creepy? Maybe it was some kind of maternal instinct--like, in ten years, I might befriend their little girls and share their secret crushes just for the hell of it.
Right, I thought, no chalk pictures for you.
I shambled down the path, pausing to grab a quick photo of my feet on the concrete. It was probably the most cliché shot in the world, but I was desperate here.
Then a small outcrop of flowers caught my eye. I wandered off the path, already imagining some glorious close-ups. As my knees sank into the soft grass, I felt the familiar tingle of excitement that came before a good photo op.
I leaned down, snapped a photo, and glanced eagerly at the digital screen on the back of my camera. My close-up of the daisy looked great. It reminded me a lot of--
“Oh, jeez,” I groaned. Would it never end?
“Hey,” said an old man in a tracksuit shimmying along the path. “You land in some dog poo there, hon?”
He had no idea how on-target he really was. I shook my head, trying to smile politely as I said, “No dog poo. Thanks.”
He nodded and shuffled on.
I stood, sighing as I brushed the grass off my jeans. My thumb hovered over the DELETE key, ready to wipe the copycat flower from my memory card, but after a moment, I decided to keep it. I should have at least one decent picture from today’s outing, even if it brought up some annoying memories.
It was the principle of the thing, damn it. I couldn’t come home with a memory card full of out-of-focus duds. No way. Today, I had combed my hair and put on pants for a reason: I was here to prove that I really could have a decent time without Natalie or Sean.
So there. The flower picture was staying as Exhibit A.
From nearby, the sounds of excited voices strained through the air, and I wandered toward the soccer field. Maybe I could shoot some action shots or something. At the very least, a few buff, sweaty guys could take my mind off things.
I lingered at the edge of the field, taking pictures of gnarly tree roots and catching occasional glances at the soccer players, who (I was happy to find) were playing shirts versus skins.
Still, what was up with boys always wanting to run around shirtless? I had never once been in public and wanted to take my shirt off. Just saying.
I hung out until my camera squeaked in protest. Memory Card FULL, whined the little screen. Oops. I hadn’t bothered to bring a spare card. Before now, I had never needed one.
Time to pack it in, then. I couldn’t exactly stand here with my jaw open, staring at the shirtless soccer players. Could I?
I shrugged. It wasn’t like I had anything else to do. If I could keep the catcalls to a minimum, they probably wouldn’t mind. It wasn’t like the guys had noticed me or anything. They were so wrapped up in their game that--
A sultry whistle cut into my thoughts, making my face turned red and my spine straighten into a perfect line.
“Hey!” called one of the guys. “You need some help with the sunscreen?”
“Sunscreen?” I said. “What do you--?”
The rest of the words lodged mercifully in the back of my throat when I sighted the three girls in bikinis spreading towels at the edge of the field.
And now some of the soccer guys were looking at me, though they looked more amused than appreciative. Understanding sank in my stomach like a bad burrito. Bikinis, sunscreen... Right.
Somehow, I figured the most graceful way to leave the situation was to jog off, like I had just been taking a break from my workout and needed to return to my cardio routine now. Because I wasn’t wearing jeans or anything. And I hadn’t been snapping photos until a few minutes ago.
I ran back up to the path, my jeans chafing against my legs. “Parks suck,” I said, catching my breath.
“Layla?” said a totally non-winded voice behind me.
Ra
jesh’s hair was damp and matted to his head. His shorts were grass-stained, and I guess his shirt would have been, too. You know, if he had been wearing one.
And okay, I was really happy to run into him, but I couldn’t help checking him out a little, too. I mean, wow.
“Hey. I wasn’t sure if it was you,” he said. “Why’d you run off?”
“Oh, just...” I was ready to mumble something semi-coherent about jogging, but for once, a logical answer came to mind. “My memory card’s full, so I can’t take any more pictures.”
“Bummer.”
“I know, right?” I kept my eyes carefully above Rajesh’s shoulders, squashing a desire to ask where the hell he’d been hiding those guns.
“So, how’s it going?” he asked, his big eyes suddenly heavy with concern.
“Oh, you know. Good, I guess.” And by good, I (of course) meant, absolutely terrible.
Raj seemed to get the gist of it, because he nodded and said, “If it makes you feel any better, Natalie misses you, too.”
The words were like a balm over sore wounds. I felt my lips curl upward. “Thanks. It’s nice to actually talk to someone who isn’t like, my mom or something.”
“What do you mean? We’re still friends. We can still hang out.”
I raised an eyebrow. “I thought Nat got custody.”
“I know you two only see me as some kind of sex object, but I’m much more than that.” He grinned. “Seriously, dude. You’ve been like a ghost all week. It’s weird not having you around.”
I chuckled. Probably Rajesh hadn’t minded some alone time with Natalie, but it was sweet of him to remember me. I brushed an unembarrassed hand over his moist shoulder. “You’re a really nice guy, Raj.”
Color flushed to his cheeks, and he looked away for a minute. “Actually, I’ve decided not to be a nice guy anymore.”
“Really?”
He nodded, his eyes glinting. “I was thinking of moving on to something a little broodier. What do you think?”
“Um, I think I’m broody enough for both of us.” I glanced around at the sunshine and the rosy-cheeked kids. “In fact, I might be broody enough for the entire park.”
Raj’s smile softened. “You guys are really mad at each other, huh?”
“It’s more like Natalie’s mad at me.” I tilted my head. “She didn’t tell you about it?”
“Nah. We haven’t really talked much. I mean, not about you.”
Maybe this should have made me feel better, but it left me sore, instead. Staring down at my useless camera, I sighed.
“Man, I’m sorry,” said Raj. “I just played that back in my head, and I sound like a real douche bag.”
“You totally don’t. I’m just being weird. It’s cool.”
“No, it isn’t. It’s actually the opposite of cool.”
I looked up, smirking. “You mean, hot?”
“What about... Lukewarm?”
In spite of myself, I chuckled. “That works, I guess.”
We stood in silence for a moment. I didn’t know what else to say, but Raj seemed to have the opposite problem. “Okay, I know it’s probably not my business, and you can punch me in the neck if you don’t want to answer, but...”
“Raj, I’m not going to punch you,” I said, my voice heavy with understanding. “I’d knee you in the balls because it’s easier.”
He placed a protective hand over his crotch. “What happened with you and Natalie?”
I bit my lip. How could I put it? Without the genie stuff, nothing made sense.
Raj must have confused my thoughtfulness with hesitation, because he added, “I’m not trying to be nosy. I just want to help. She’s pretty upset about it, you know.”
“You think?”
Raj nodded. He stared carefully at my face for a moment, then gave his biceps a little flex. “If she hasn’t even been looking at these babies, she must be pretty messed up.”
I had to smile. “Okay, we’re not talking anymore unless you put a shirt on.”
This only made him flex more, pulling himself into creepy bodybuilder poses right there in the middle of the jogging path.
“Ack! Stop it, creep.” Laughing, I covered my eyes.
“What’s the matter? Too hot for you?”
“I’m serious!”
“Can’t take the heat, huh?” Raj laughed. “Fine, fine. It’s safe now.”
I dropped my hands. “You’re weird.”
“Yeah, I guess so.” He crossed his arms. “So, come on, what’s up with you guys? You did something bad, right?”
“Kind of, yeah. I sort of told someone about something I shouldn’t have told them about.”
“That’s... vague.”
“And I’ve kind of been lying about something important. Like, really important.”
“I get it,” Raj said. “You’re actually a forty-seven-year-old high-school drop-out?”
“Exactly.”
He shook his head. “It can’t be that bad, Layla. Trust me. Whatever it is, she’ll forgive you, as long as you apologize.”
I wished it were that easy (not out loud, of course). Over the past week, I had rehearsed a million apologies in my head. None of them made any sense without the genie stuff, which Nat would never believe.
And even if I did prove I was genie, what then? Friend or not, I knew Natalie wouldn’t do anything to hurt me, but I didn’t want to flake out and spill yet another secret, this time betraying my parents’ trust.
“Maybe,” was all I said.
“Your ‘maybe’ sounds a lot like most people’s, ‘No way in hell,’” said Rajesh.
“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry.”
“That’s the spirit,” he said, punching my arm playfully. “Call me if you want to practice that part some more. I’ll clear my schedule.”
I rolled my eyes. “Thanks, Raj.”
“Later, Layla.” Raj tossed me a wave as he ran back to the soccer field.
I watched him disappeared into the cluster of boys, then turned and made my way back to my bike. The group of kids and parents had moved on to a big jungle gym nearby, so I didn’t have to worry about someone blowing a safety whistle when I passed the abandoned chalk art.
I had tied my bike to a light pole at the edge of the parking lot, out of the protective shade of the trees. As I stepped up to my bicycle, the sun fell across me like a warm blanket.
Maybe Raj was right. I fumbled with the combination on my bike lock, frowning as I admitted that I hadn’t tried very hard to apologize to Natalie, not really. I had been so afraid of rejection that I had barely dared to look at her this week, let alone start a conversation. Scary wolverine sounds aside, I could still call Nat right now and try to make up with her. Nothing was stopping me.
My cell phone was in my back pocket, just waiting for me to dial Nat’s number. I took it out with a trembling hand, trying to summon the nerve.
Okay, okay. I could do this. Just press the little buttons. No big deal.
With a gulp, I flicked the phone open, as ready as I would ever be. But instead of hitting speed-dial number two, I gasped at the message onscreen. While I had been wandering around the park, I had missed a call.
From Sean.
We hadn’t talked all week, not even in class. I guessed it made sense, but it had still been strange, ignoring each other like that. A few times, I thought I sensed Sean’s eyes on my back, but I had always been too chicken to turn around and see for myself.
Now it looked like we would be talking again, but the leap of excitement I felt at seeing his name evaporated when I understood what this meant: he had his third wish, his final wish.
My phone beeped about a voicemail message, so I pressed the phone to my ear and waited for Sean’s recorded voice to come through the line. “Umm, hey, Layla. It’s Sean. You probably already knew that.” He cleared his throat. “Listen, I’ve got my third wish.”
There was a pause so long that I wondered if he had dropped the phone, but then he c
ame back in a rush, “I wish Diana Bukowski and I were back together. Just do what we did for my parents. The kiss thing? I hope this works over the phone. If it doesn’t... I don’t know. See you later.”
Oh, hell no. I must have heard that wrong.
I replayed the message, letting Sean’s voice clang into my brain. I registered just enough words to confirm their meaning, and then snapped the phone shut. The click echoed through my mind, leaving an odd quiet in its wake.
I remembered wanting to go home a few minutes ago, but now, I didn’t want to do anything but stand here by this light pole, my mouth gaping open like a trapdoor. The trees could have burst through the gravel and sprouted a cage around me--I wouldn’t have cared.
I stared into space, feeling the minutes creep by. “He wants her back,” I breathed. Hearing it in my own voice sent a flash of angry heat through my veins, making my skin tingle.
So Sean wanted Diana. Well, you know what I wanted?
I wanted to speed all the way to Sean’s house and bust the windows out of his car. I wanted to wish him into a permanent state of nematodic pinkness, and then toss him into a sewer somewhere. I wanted to make him pay, and not just for me. This was for Natalie, because she had been unnoticed for too long.
This was for stealing my ring. And this was for kissing me five times and then turning around and asking for more kisses--but from somebody else.
Whatever doubts Sean had had about wishing over voicemail had been unnecessary. I could feel the un-granted wish weighing across my shoulders like a heavy backpack, or a really annoying parrot. I hugged myself tightly, shutting my eyes. Suddenly, I felt like my heart was going to burst.
“I wish it would go away,” I said, thinking of the tightness in my chest.
A second later, it was like someone had just cut me out of a corset. I took a long breath, relief swimming through me.
But the wish was still there... I could feel it pulsing inside me, waiting.
I could have stood there until every other person in the park went home, leaving me alone in the darkness, surrounded by night-sounds. I had to admit, it sounded tempting compared to what I knew I needed to do.
“No way,” I muttered. “I can’t do this.”