Sealed with a Wish (3 page)

Miniskirt Girl and her friend were so preoccupied with Diana’s skank-itude that they didn’t notice the clerk ask for their orders.

My stomach gave another insistent growl and I heard myself say, “Hey! Order something or get out of line!”

They both looked at me like I was some form of radioactive mutant dog beast, but it got them both to hurry up and order. That alone was enough to keep me from feeling too bad about my outburst.

A few minutes later, I was devouring a hot dog with everything on it, drowned in relish just the way I liked.

Miniskirt Girl took a sip of her Diet Coke and smirked at me. “Nice. That’s not fattening or anything.” As she said it, her eyes slid across my (totally average-sized) butt.

I had a suggestion ready about how
she
could learn how to zip-and-button these new-fangled things called “pants,” but my mouth was full, so I just sounded like Yeti.

And then a big glob of relish chose that exact moment to fall onto my boob. Miniskirt Girl and her friend cackled like it was the funniest thing in the world.

I flicked the relish away with my finger, but it still left a nasty green smear on my shirt.

At least
, I thought,
it’s better than puke.

CHAPTER THREE

The parking lot was empty as I made my way back to school, where my stinky (but relish-free) gym t-shirt was waiting inside my locker. I wasn’t in the mood to walk all the way to the main building, but what else could I do?

Umm, duh. Genie, anyone?

Somehow, my feet realized it before my brain did, and I came to an abrupt halt beside a bright yellow sedan.

I frowned down at the stain on my shirt, which looked more like ectoplasm than relish underneath the harsh, fluorescent lamps. If I could just think of the right words, then I could just make the relish go away, couldn’t I?

I wish that the stain on my shirt would disappear...

Ugh, wait. What if I didn’t just zap away the stain, but the material it was on? I shuddered, imagining a gigantic, circular hole cut in just the right spot. I’d rather be showing off a little relish-boob than a little regular-boob.

I wish that my shirt were relish-stain-free and unaltered in any way.

That sounded harmless enough. I opened my mouth to speak, but paused. There had to be some possible catch, and I didn’t want to risk any kind of disappearing-shirt action in the middle of a school parking lot, even if everyone was watching the game.

Meanwhile, my gym t-shirt was still crumpled in my locker and totally relish-free. Wouldn’t it be easier just to zap the clean t-shirt over, instead of gambling with a wish that might make me
go wild
in the middle of a soccer game? (I mean, as wild as a short brunette wearing her oldest, rattiest sports bra
could
get.)

I pressed my lips together, wondering. If I could figure out a way to do this without making my locker--or anyone else’s--explode, then maybe it could work. I glanced around, just in case, but I couldn’t find anyone in the lot. In the middle of the game, who would be out here except for a mugger or something?

Besides me, of course.

“Need some help?” asked someone behind me.

I spun around. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but it wasn’t to find Sean Fabry coming up behind me, wielding a bent coat hanger. I yelped and backed up against the yellow car. “I’m sorry about the puke, okay? It was an accident!”

Sean’s forehead wrinkled as he stared at me, still brandishing the hanger. He had bent the corners inward so he could hold it more easily, while the hook-part remained intact and ready for slashing.

Easier to get revenge with
, said a raspy voice in my head.

I clenched my fists. In horror movies, you were always supposed to run away from the psycho, not stand there chatting with him, but for some reason, my legs wouldn’t move.

Maybe I could wish them into working. I was busy figuring out exactly how I should phrase it when Sean took a step closer.

“Did you lock your keys in?” he asked. “I saw you standing out here when I was getting some nachos. I can help you get them out.” He held up the coat-hanger-hook.

“W-with that?”

“Yeah.” He stepped up to the driver’s side and shimmied the hook-part in between the window and the door itself.

In spite of myself, I leaned over and watched. As the panic in my veins started to fade, I pulled myself together enough to ask, “Aren’t you supposed to be, I don’t know, in your soccer uniform? Playing and stuff?”

He shook his head. “Coach thinks I might have the flu or something because of this morning.”

“Oh. Sorry about that.”

“It’s cool. I felt fine right after.” Sean wriggled the hanger for a moment, and the door came unlocked with a satisfying click. He smiled. “Presto-change-o.”

My heart was still jumping, so I put a hand on my chest and told myself to calm down. I felt my ring underneath my fingers, still hanging around my neck. I must have forgotten about it after my fight with Mom and Dad. “‘Prest-o-what-o?’” I said.

Sean’s smile faltered a little. He shrugged, looking down at the ground. “Nothing. Umm, here’s your car.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Reality came back to me in a slow trickle, and I registered that Sean and I had (kind of) just broken into someone’s sedan. “That’s, umm, not actually my car.”

He and I both looked at the car door that was gaping open, and, beyond that, the plushy tan interior. It looked comfy. And, meanwhile, Sean looked queasy.

“Pardon me,” I said, scooting around him. I clicked the lock back in place before slamming the door.

“Holy crap.” Sean scanned our surroundings for (I assumed) sedan owners or cops. “Yeah, okay. So, which car are you driving?”

“None. I drive a bike.” When I heard myself say the words, I couldn’t help but flinch. Not that I really cared what Sean Fabry thought of me, but... Seriously?
I drive a bike?

I expected Sean to snort or roll his eyes, but he paused. After a thoughtful moment, he wondered, “Then why are you standing out here while the game’s on?”

Well, as a matter of fact, I’m a genie with a big relish stain on her boob and I was just trying to figure out a way to fix it without flashing the entire school!

“There’s a stain on my shirt,” I told him.

“Okay...”

“No, it’s true.” I pointed at it. “See?” I realized a second too late that I had just instructed Sean to stare at my chest. So much for not going wild.

“Dude, I believe you. Are you like, scared or something?”

“Like... of my relish-boob?”

“What? No. I mean, are you scared of walking back to school by yourself?”

I couldn’t help but scoff. “Yeah, I think there’s this federal marshal on my trail. It’s a total drag.”

“Actually, I was thinking you were freaked out because it’s all dark and stuff.” Sean glanced at the soccer stadium, no doubt wishing he had stayed there, instead of coming out to help a crazy girl.

I couldn’t help but peek at my path to the main building, which was definitely lacking in the overhead lighting department. Come to think of it, I probably would have been a little freaked out walking there on my own. I guessed it wouldn’t hurt to have Sean around, though, ideally, I would have brought along a burly cro-mag from the football team. In a pinch, I guessed that a tall, mostly buff soccer player would work.

Not that I had spent a ton of time ogling Sean’s goodies. But sometimes, it was just hard
not
to notice. Was it my fault that he occasionally liked to whip off his shirt during soccer games?

I turned back to Sean. “I guess you’re right. Would you mind walking with me?”

He shrugged, his smirk fading. “That’s cool.”

Sean and I returned the coat-hanger-hook to the trunk of his car, then we fell in step together as we weaved our way through the parking lot.

“How big is this marshal guy, anyway?” he asked. “You think I could take him?”

I pretended to study his biceps with a critical eye. (Okay, so I wasn’t exactly
pretending
. Sue me.) “You might stand a chance. I think you could keep him busy long enough for me to get away, at least.”

We shared a lame chuckle, after which we were caught in a semi-awkward lapse in conversation until we reached the main building. At that point, I managed to break the ice by cursing when I tried the door and found it locked.

I should have known it would be. School had ended hours ago. If Sean hadn’t been there, I probably could have wished the door unlocked, but it was too late now.

So it looked like I’d be rocking some relish-boob tonight. If I acted like the stain was supposed to be there, would people think it was just a cool new trend?

I’m Condiment Chic,
I thought, smirking down at myself as Sean and I headed back to the soccer stadium.

I had just gotten used to the silence between us when cleared his throat and said, “So, I’m really sorry about today.”

“Sorry? What do you mean?”

“Well, for throwing up on you and stuff.”

“Oh, right, the puke.” I shook my head. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I just want you to know that I don’t puke on people all the time.” He frowned. “Or, you know,
any
time. Aside from this morning, I mean.”  Sean smiled a little, and, like a reflex, I did the same.

From where we stood, with the sun almost set, the stadium looked like a hive of lights an activity. My camera was tucked inside my back pocket, ready to snap a quick shot, but I felt weird about taking it out in front Sean. He had puked on me, which was kind of an equalizer, but still.

“I was going to grab some of those cow cookies,” he said. “They look really good. Did you make ‘em yourself?”

“Actually, it was Natalie.” Off the clueless look on his face, I added, “You know, Natalie Whitmore?”

...super-talented, looks like a pixie, been in love with you for three years?

Sean’s face tensed with thought, but not with recognition. “Natalie, yeah. Sure.”

I felt my jaw go tight. Of course he wouldn’t know who Natalie was--never mind that she had tons more personality in her pinky finger than someone like Diana Bukowski had in her svelte, blonde body.

We were halfway through the parking lot when I stopped and pulled out my camera. I snapped a quick shot, one that probably wouldn’t turn out, but it was the principal of the thing.

“Cool,” said Sean, lingering beside me. “Can I see the picture?”

“It’s probably nothing,” I told him, my voice crisp. “Don’t bother.”

“Oh,” he said, looking down at his sneakers.

Unexpected regret thumped in my chest, though I didn’t know why. It wasn’t as if I owed Sean my everlasting devotion for breaking into someone’s car for me. It was nice of him to come out and help, but I wasn’t about to let myself get too chummy with a guy who didn’t even know my best friend existed, let alone had a monster crush on him.

I looked into Sean’s clouded face, wishing I could be more annoyed. It was like he had some kind of superpower: if he broke out the sad puppy-dog eyes, it was hard to dislike him. Most of the class had probably fallen head over heels in love with him after his stomach malfunction this morning.

Holding my camera out to him, I sighed. “Here. It’s just a regular point-and-shoot. Nothing special.”

He took the camera and turned it around in his hands. “This is cool.”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I mean, yeah, I guess.”

I expected him to lose interest and hand it back to me, but instead, he lifted the camera to his face and squinted at me through the viewfinder. “Smile.”

“Knock it off.” Like a celeb dodging the paparazzi, I held up my hand in front of my face. “I don’t like taking pictures.”

Sean lowered the camera to his side, his eyebrows raised. “You could have fooled me.”

“Pictures of myself, I mean. I’m sort of a behind-the-camera type. Can I have it back now?”

He shrugged. “Sure. Whatever.”

As I reached for the camera, our fingers accidentally brushed, leaving a lick of warmth on my skin. My fingers fumbled a little, and so did Sean’s. The camera slipped out of both our grips, and each of us dove for it at the same time, bumping heads like two cartoon characters.

Despite the ringing in my brain, I swept out my arm, hoping to catch my camera. On the way, something thin and metallic caught between my fingers, leaving a sting.

I
felt
my ring fly off, even before I saw it soaring off the broken necklace chain. I caught a wink of the stone as it spun away from me and then vanished somewhere underneath a row of cars.

Sean rubbed his forehead with one hand and picked up my camera with the other. “Sorry. If it’s broken, I’ll--Hey, what’s wrong?”

I trotted forward, trying to suck in all the details as I scanned the ground. “My ring! Ugh, it’s got to be here somewhere.”  Growling, I got down on my hands and knees and squinted underneath the cars, praying for a glint of red.

What if I don’t find it?!

The thought jabbed at me like a hot poker, raising nervous sweat along my back. “I wish...” There had to be an easy way to do it. I screamed at my brain to hurry up and
think
already. “I wish... I wish...”

Sean hunkered down on all fours, glancing around. “I think I see it.”

I spun around in time to see him get down on his belly and reach under a car. “No, don’t--!” I cried, but the air left my lungs and I couldn’t finish. Suddenly, I felt warm all over, like I had just stepped out of a hot shower. I sank against someone’s SUV, my head buzzing.

Sean got up and walked toward me, smiling as he held out my ring. When he saw my expression, his face clouded. “Layla? Are you all right?”

I don’t remember exactly what I said, but it probably shouldn’t be repeated.