by Shel Delisle
If I didn’t know better I’d swear Eugene had been nipping at Mom’s vodka. “I think you’re imagining that.”
“Genies don’t have an imagination,” he replies.
Goosebumps race across my arm because I know this is true and I suppose that I know he’s telling the truth about Richard, too.
“Well, I’ve never seen him,” Em quips, her eyes never leaving the mirror.
“He’s aging, but I know it’s him.”
When Eugene says this it hits me. The guy at the mall and in the guy car parked next to me at Zucarellis and the guy watching me fight with Mom. They were all Richard, looking slightly different each time, while looking the same. Then, I get an even scarier thought. I wonder if he’s been other places where I didn’t see him.
“Em, he’s right. I’ve seen him. We’re being stalked by an effing lunatic!”
She stops looking at herself in the mirror, apparently worried about something other than how her tops look with her new and improved boobs. “We’ll wish him away. It doesn’t have to be anywhere bad. Where would he like to go, Eugene? On a nice, long vacation?”
This is one of those times when Em’s calm logic is wonderful, because, to be honest, I was feeling a little nervous.
“I can’t do that,” Eugene says while studying his palms, the tools of his magic.
“Why not?” Em asks.
“A rule. No granting wishes involving former masters. It keeps genies and their masters much safer.”
“So how do we stop him?” I ask.
Eugene shrugs. “I’m not sure. It’s never happened to me before.”
Em leaves the mirror and walks over to her bed, kneeling on top of it. She pries the blinds opens with her fingers and peeks through the slats. “Is that him?”
Eugene and I kneel next to her. Through the blinds I spy the Gran Fury parked at her curb.
“That’s Dick,” Eugene quips in an attempt at humor.
Neither Em or I laugh.
CHAPTER 28
I’M NOT SURE OUR FOREFATHERS could have ever envisioned the parking lot, massive crowds and attractions at an Orlando water park back when they were declaring our independence. Nonetheless, we plan to spend July 4th at Neptune’s. even Eugene is into it after making it through the first visit safely.
We get to skip the line with our super-de-dooper annual pass—no wishing required—because otherwise this would’ve been a nightmare with all the howling kids. Em slings her teeny purse over her head, angled from shoulder to hip, and holds her beach towel in front of her. “I bet Nigel is working today. I mean it’s the fourth and it looks really crowded so they must need every hand on deck, and I mean, he’s almost always working anyway, or at least it seems like that…doesn’t it seem like that?”
I interrupt her babble. “Did you bring sunscreen?” Her purse is only large enough to hold her credit card, her Neptune’s annual pass, some cash, and her lip gloss.
When Em shakes her head, I toss a tube of SPF50 into my tote. Then, on second thought I toss in a bottle of the SPF70 stuff. It’s basically like wearing full clothes, but Eugene is extremely pale and I don’t know if genies can be harmed by ultraviolet light.
Inside the park we make a beeline for the beach, a huge sandy area with lounge chairs and umbrellas, which are permanently fixed into rows like desks at school. We all face one of two attractions: either the surf pool, which is packed with boogie boarders, or the landing area for the Tsunami, a slide that loops crazily. All day long we’ll hear the screams coming from that direction.
We find three chairs and two umbrellas close enough to Nigel’s lifeguard stand that Em will be able to spy on him and keep a drool going all day long. Nigel sees us and gives us a wave.
Em flutters back a girly hello. “Does it make me look totally desperate if I go over right away?”
I fan my towel out over the back of the chair and ease myself onto it carefully, squiggling my toes in the warm sand. Adjusting my sunglasses, I say, “go ahead. You know you want to.”
Em leaves her towel and purse on the chair two down and flounces over to Nigel. Eugene grins and sprawls on the chair between mine and Emily’s. That way we can offer some protection from stray water.
“What are you so happy about?” I ask him.
“Everything.”
“What everything?”
He sits up straight and bounces his leg. “You look—what is the word you use? Hot. In that swimsuit.” He wiggles his eyebrows, which on the Lenny Kravitz guitarist looked sexy, but Eugene keeps it real. And goofy.
Real goofy.
“Well then, I guess I’d better go cool off.” I stand up and pull down the edge of my bottoms, so my booty isn’t completely revealed.
After a quick splash in the surf pool, I return to our spot and both my friends have abandoned me. Where’d Eugene go? I glance over at the lifeguard stand, but Em’s not there anymore. Maybe she needed to cool off too, but that doesn’t explain Eugene’s disappearance.
I get a chill despite the summer sun and glance around, praying I don’t see anyone who looks like the magician.
The thing is I don’t. But I see something else that might be even stranger. Em is tucked under one of the thatched tiki huts that have chest-high tables where you can stand to eat quickly. She has a red slushy drink with an umbrella and she’s sipping from the straw. Next to her with a matching drink is the hottest guy I have ever seen. Ever. Anywhere. He doesn’t even look real, that’s how hot he is.
His chest and abs are perfectly carved, bronzy. Chiseled features. A broad smile with white teeth against his bronzy skin. Eyes that flash, but you can’t quite pin down the color—are they blue, green, gold or all three? The funny thing is he’s wearing the same board shorts as Eugene, but wear they hang and bag on our genie, these are snug, but not too tight in a very hubba-hubba way.
The weirdness doesn’t stop there. He and Em are chatting it up like they’re old friends. A few feet away an old guy watches them and begins to move toward them.
Is that the magician?
Just before the old guy gets to the table, the hunk leans forward and gives her a little peck on the cheek before walking off the old guy follows him and is joined by an old woman wearing a turban-thing. I watch the pair until they both get lost in the crowd over by the concession stand. Whew! Paranoid much? I can’t start thinking every old guy is Richard, it’ll make me crazy.
But the other real question is: How does Em know that gorgy guy? And, why, oh why, hasn’t she introduced him to me?
Even as that struts through my mind, another thought is close on its heels.
How can you think that? What about Eugene?
CHAPTER 29
THE SKY, STREAKED WITH FUSCHIA, VIOLET AND INDIGO, is celebrating the sunset like the 60s go-go display at Rags to Ritzy. It’s a little show-offy, which is fine with me after such a perfect day. All day we’ve talked and laughed and told Eugene stories and then left him under the umbrella to float around The Lazy River. And then we’d do it all again.
On one of Lazy River runs, Em and I shared an inner tube, like we used to when we were little. She hung onto one side, while I gripped the other. As we glided under the cool waterfall I screamed and laughed.
“You seem so happy,” Em said to me.
“He makes me happy.”
“Eugene?”
“I know it’s crazy. He’s not really my type and he can be so strange sometimes, but he really, really makes me happy. Is that weird?”
“I don’t think so,” my best friend said.
“Who was that babe you were talking to earlier? Does Nigel finally have some competition.” I teased and waggled my eyebrows.
Em looked uncomfortable. “Oh, you saw me talking to him? He’s not competition for Nigel. He’s just—” She paused. “This guy I know.”
Wouldn’t you know it? Em gets a pair of boobs and all of a sudden my shy friend is attracting the guys who are as hot as a firecracker.
There’s a surreal, dreamy feeling as I look from friend to friend. Nigel is sharing the chair and a meal with Em while he’s on break. He flops his arm over her shoulder and touches his forehead to hers.
“You have simply blossomed into the most beautiful young woman,” Nigel says while glanicing at her “blossomed” boobs for only a second or two. Em’s practically glowing with happiness. That hot guy I saw her talking to earlier means nothing to her compared to Nigel.
Eugene laughs at something Em said before taking a bite of his burger and a gulp of soda. I smile and realize that I haven’t thought of Mom all day. Not her drinking or the dysfunction that is our family.
I wish this day could last forever.
When the show finally starts, Em and I get giddy and wish for Eugene to make them into different shapes. He explodes a pirate ship, a group of dolphins, a unicorn, and angels in hues of lilac, aqua, lime green, hot pink, and orange. We ooh and ahh along with the crowd, who are totally awed by how sophisticated this show is.
Nigel appears with a plate of S’mores. Where did he find those? I take a bite, and the ooey-gooey marshmallow stretches from my mouth to the sandwich. Eugene makes mmm sounds as he gobbles his. He smiles, and the sky lights his face, reflecting a sparkle in his eyes. As I lean toward him, he moves toward me. I press my sticky lips to his. They’re soft and taste like burned sugar.
I am kissing mondo-geeky Eugene. It’s nice. And I don’t care who sees me. He places his hand on the side of my neck and kisses deeper, then gently pulls away.
I leave my eyes closed and slowly open them—
What the eff?
It’s the gorgeous guy. His perfectly formed Cupid’s bow lips are mere inches from mine with a little toasted marshmallow stuck to them.
“Whe-where’s Eugene?”
He grins, bright green eyes flashing. They look unreal, as if they’re lit from within instead of reflecting the fireworks.
Is this some kind granting? Did I wish for this guy?
CHAPTER 30
THE HUNKITY-HUNK SAYS, “It is I, Logan.”
I know two things when he speaks.
One. It is Eugene. Without a doubt. No one else talks like that.
And two. Em has been keeping something from me. Because this is the guy I saw her with earlier. The guy who gave her a peck on the cheek.
I can't pull my eyes away from the new version of Eugene—and really, can you blame me? The only thing that ruins what could have been a beautiful surprise is that it is a surprise.
“So will the real Eugene please stand up?” I say in frustration.
“This is how he really looks,” Em says.
What is going on? I look from Em to Eugene, speechless.
“The way we’ve seen him—that you’ve seen him—is a disguise Richard made him wear.”
“I don’t…understand,” is all I can manage.
It sounds like something Eugene would say. I really want him to explain this to me, but Em is the one who continues, “One night, when it was my turn with the bag, I saw Eugene in his true form—this form—and we had a long talk about it.”
Why didn’t you tell me? We’re best friends.
“Richard thought he was too—”
Hot?
“—noticeable like this, so he made him take on a less memorable appearance. Richard called it his everyday look. ”
“We’re you going to tell me?” Ever? I look at Eugene when I ask this, but he refuses to look me in the eye. Instead he stares at Em. They’ve betrayed me. Em’s betrayed me. Big time. “Well, I guess your silence tells me everything I need to know. And I thought we were friends,” I say to the new, improved Eugene.
More than friends. I was falling for you.
He gets completely squirmy, which would’ve suited the nerdy genie I know but looks completely ridiculous on the hubba-hubba vision in front of me.
Then he’s saved by one of the waitresses from the concession stand. She hovers over us in her mer-costume, picking up a couple empty plates and plastic cups near us. “Is everything okay?” she asks through fat, pearlized blue lips.
The poor girl has bad timing. “Everything is just effing jim dandy, Ariel. Why don’t you just flipper back to HQ and leave us the eff alone.”
She huffs and walks away, looking back once over her shoulder. I make a swim-away motion with my hands. She didn’t deserve that. My anger flared in the wrong direction. I look down and put my hand on my forehead.
Em giggles nervously, probably mortified by my behavior, and calls after her, “She didn’t mean it.”
“You’re right. It’s not her fault. It’s yours.” I glare at Eugene instead. “Answer me,” I demand. “When were you going to clue me in?”
“Emily thought—” he starts.
“I thought you’d treat him differently if you knew what he looked like.”
“What does that mean?” I practically spit out.
“You know, Lo. The same way you act around any good-looking guy. You let it cloud your judgment.”
There’s a part of me that knows this might have happened, probably would’ve happened, but it stings that Em thought that. “Are you saying I would’ve hooked up with him?”
Her face flushes a brighter red than I’ve ever seen on her, and Eugene looks away. “You said it. I didn’t.”
Whoa! “You’re acting like Sasha!” I yell.
“Wait, Lo. Listen a minute. You and Eugene seemed to be developing a nice relationship. It was the first time I’d ever seen you trust a guy since your dad left. The first time I’d seen you be yourself. You were finally getting rid of skeezy Dawson.”
When she says the word ‘skeezy,’ I clench my fists. I know I asked her to stop saying that word. It makes me feel skeezy. Skeezier.
But Em keeps on talking like she’s oblivious to my pain. “I didn’t want that to change. I was wishing that you’d keep acting the same with him, because, because…it was the best I’ve seen you around any guy.”
“No more wishes,” I yell. “I’m done with wishing.”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” Emily splutters. “It didn’t involve Eugene.”
My face flushes. I feel the shakes coming on. “How could you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Lie to me. Keep it a secret. All of—” I wave my hand at Eugene, “—this.” My voice is screechy and some of the other park visitors have backed away, giving us some space in case someone, namely me, goes postal.
She swallows hard. “Richard is the one who wished for him to look like—” She trails off. There’s sympathy in Em’s voice, and I feel it too. Richard was such a total asshole.
But then the anger flares. “So you think I’m like Richard?”
“No, that’s not what I said. You’re twisting this. It’s like you’re looking for a fight.”
“You’d better believe I want to fight. This is the worst thing you’ve ever done.” I pause. “This is the worst thing anyone has ever done to me.”
Instantly I regret the words. They’re not even true. Most people just think horrible things when they’re angry, but I always say them out loud.
Em gasps, and tears well in her eyes. She tweezes the strap of her miniscule purse between her fingers and tosses it over her shoulder. “Listen, Nigel offered to drive me home when the park closes and it seems like we should talk about this later when you’ve cooled down. You two probably need some alone time anyway.” Then she scoops her beach towel, leaving the rest of our crap scattered all around, and prances off like we didn’t just have the biggest fight ever.
I want to chase her down and yank her back by her hair. I want to scream and bite and wrestle her in the sand.
But I don’t.
Torn between wishing and not wis
hing awful things on her, I’m glad Eugene doesn’t grant my wishes alone.
Instead, I turn to him. “And how about you?”
“Emily thought this was the best course of action for your happiness.”
Hot, angry tears pool in my eyes. “What about what I thought? What about what I wanted? Or wished for?” Can’t I have that just once?
“There were no wishes. I could only do what I thought was right.”
I bark a hard laugh and my eyes burn. Eugene thought the right choice was to lie to me. A tear slips out and down my cheek.
The chiseled vision in front of me reaches out his index finger. He’s about to brush my tear away and stops an eyelash from my cheek. Water. It’s a problem for him.
Eugene looks at me with sad, sad eyes that are completely his own. Or actually this is all his own, but I don’t know any of it. Except those eyes. I wonder how that felt for him. The chance to make a choice. But why did it have to involve me? And lies.
A drop of cool water plops on me, shocking me, and I look up. The stars are gone. Even in the night sky, I can see thick clouds hang over us. Eugene’s eyes widen. Another drop falls and hits his forearm, which starts to steam.
Oh, no. God, no!
I grab a beach umbrella and yank it with superhuman strength, pulling it from the sand. There’s a claw on the bottom of it and I snap it off, holding the oversized umbrella out to Eugene.
“Go, just go,” I say. “Make sure you’re safe.”
He takes it, whirls on his heel and runs in the same direction as Em. The best thing in my life is moving as fast as he can away from me, kicking up sand and heading for the Neptune’s exit.
CHAPTER 31
AFTER PACKING UP OUR PILE OF CRAP in the pouring rain, I head for the parking lot, taking small consolation in the fact that I saw Eugene catch up to Em and Nigel. At least he made it out of the rain and to Em’s house. That’s where he would’ve gone anyway, because that’s where his bag is.
As I slog through the wet sand, I try to use one of the towels as an umbrella. It doesn’t work and I bark a hard ha! I thought Eugene could change my life, that I would be the new and oh-so improved Lo. Instead I’m just repeating the patterns that already existed.