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Authors: Rose David

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CHAPTER FOUR

 

My ring shimmered in Sean’s palm, and without thinking, I scrambled to my feet and snatched for it. I didn’t know what I was trying to do. Maybe I hoped that, if I took my ring back fast enough, I could cancel out my stupid mistake.

When my fingers closed around the band, a shock of electricity crackled up my arm. “Ow!” I jerked my hand back.

“Are you okay?” Sean asked.

I cradled my still-buzzing fingers against my chest. “Do I
look
okay, Fabry?”

Sean seemed thoughtful. “I don’t think I should answer that. It’s always a trick question.”

I groaned and eyed my ring, still wanting it, but suddenly wary.

My mother’s voice piped into my head,
What if he asks for a billion dollars? What if he wants something even bigger? There’s no way that wouldn’t attract attention!

I wrapped my arms around myself, shaking at the possibilities.

And then my dad spoke up,
You’ve got to learn to be more responsible, Layla.

“Ugh,” I groaned, “I know, all right?!” Sean raised his eyebrows, and I shook my head as I added, “Nothing. Never mind.” Biting my lip, I looked up into Sean’s puzzled face. He obviously had no idea what he had done, or that he had three wishes to blow.

“Umm, okay. You want your ring back now?”

“No! Keep it away!” I shook my head, my eyes growing moist. I never thought I would be afraid of my own ring, the thing I used to sleep with as a baby.

But then a new idea popped into my mind.

“Okay,” I said, hoping my voice didn’t sound too frantic. “So, you’re offering to give my ring back... Right?” If I were Diana Bukowski, I would have batted my eyelashes and done some kind of pouty thing with my mouth, but I settled for pinning on a smile.

“Of course I am.” His forehead wrinkled above his guileless blue eyes. “It’s
your
ring. I just found it for you.”

At that, my smile turned genuine.
Of course
it was my ring--Sean hadn’t taken it by force or even by tricking me. In the old stories, brave boys had fought through magical caves or solved impossible riddles to get control of a genie. There was no way Sean Fabry had earned three wishes just by reaching underneath a car.

...although I guess there might have been glass on the ground. And it had been pretty nice of him to come out to help me in the first place.

No more thinking!
I (ahem) thought. I shoved my doubts away, focusing on the task at hand.

“That’s true,” I said. “It
is
my ring. That’s exactly what you just said, right?”

Sean looked like he was two seconds away from telling me to double my dosage. “Layla,” he said slowly, “did you hit your head again or something?”

“Did I hit--? No, of course not,” I said, feeling the color rise to my face. “I’m just clarifying: you say that it’s
my
ring, not yours, and that you’re giving it back to me?”

Sean glanced around. “Are you playing a prank on me or something?”

“Just say it!”

“Say what?”

I growled. “Say, ‘yes’!”

“Yes, okay?”

A relieved sigh whooshed past my lips. I reached for my ring, already happy to have it back.

I yelped again as it bit my hand harder, like it was trying to teach me a lesson. Well, lesson freaking learned.

Sean held my ring between his thumb and index finger, squinting. He put a careful finger on the stone, as if he expected to be burned. He looked surprised when nothing happened.

Seeing him touch my ring like that was just wrong, like he had reached out and run his hands through my hair, or tried to kiss me, or something. As Sean let my ring slide down his over his thumb, another shiver tingled across my body and my face grew even hotter.

But I didn’t have time to feel embarrassed right now, even if Sean Fabry was giving me the genie’s equivalent of... Well, I didn’t know what, but from the way my face was turning scarlet (a hard feat for someone with a tan), I didn’t
want
to know.

“No offense,” said Sean, “but you’re acting kind of weird.”

I forced myself to look up again. “We’ve got a problem here, Fabry. A big one.”

“What do you mean?”

“Okay, so when you picked up my ring, you don’t think you, umm...
earned
anything, do you?”

“Uh... I don’t think I get it.”

“You heard me. Like, a reward.”

“A reward? No, of course not.” He shook his head vigorously, like a dog trying to shed water. As I took a step forward, Sean took a step back and thrust the ring out at me. “Take it, Layla. It’s yours.”

Why did he look so weird all of the sudden? “Fabry, I know it’s mine. I
can’t
take it right now.”

“Yes, you can!”

“Not unless I want to deep-fry my arm,” I said. “Why are you yelling at me?”

“I don’t want a--” He almost stumbled as he took another step back. “I mean, I
do
want-- I just don’t think--” He sounded like a broken toy. Sean’s eyes were wild as they met mine.

“Fabry, what the hell--? Why are you--?” Oh great, now I was doing it, too. I took a deep breath. “Okay, obviously I’m missing something.”

He stopped, confusion darkening his face. “Sorry, did you not want to...? I mean, not that
I
wanted to, but...”

I stiffened. “What
reward
did you think I meant?”

Suddenly Sean seemed very interested in the license plate of a truck parked nearby. “Nothing.”

Had he seriously thought that I--?

“Ew! How conceited
are
you?” I demanded.

“Hey, I’m not conceited.”

“Oh, okay,” I said. “So you expecting a ‘reward’ for finding my ring is totally normal behavior? Give me a break.”

“It wasn’t just for finding your ring,” he said. “I walked you back to school, too.”

I shouted an expletive a little too loudly, and he flinched. “I wasn’t expecting anything,” Sean said. “
You
were the one who started talking about rewards.”

Groaning, I pinched the bridge of my nose between my index finger and thumb. “This is great. I can’t believe how pervy you are.” What would he wish for first, a lifetime supply of skin mags?

I sank back against a dusty pick-up truck, the energy draining out of me. Now all I could muster was a sense of defeat.

I owed Sean Fabry three wishes.

Sean Fabry, who would probably wish for a hundred Hooters girls in his bedroom, instead of, say, world peace.

You should have listened to your parents
, I said to myself. I would probably have to turn in my Teenager Card for that, but I couldn’t deny how right they had been, especially about locking up my ring somewhere safe.

“Listen, I’m sorry.” Sean took a cautious step toward me. “I don’t know why I thought... Never mind.”

Slowly, I shook my head. He still didn’t know he had three wishes. I had to tell him (if he didn’t understand the new importance of the words, “I wish,” who knew what could happen?) but I wasn’t sure what the protocol was. In the stories I had read, the genie usually made some big speech, but I wasn’t sure I had one in me. It wasn’t like I had any note cards prepared.

I glanced around to make sure the lot was still empty. “Sean Fabry, welcome to the best day of your life,” I said. “And the worst day of mine.”

“Layla, I told you I don’t want--”

“Oh my gawd, do you have sex on the brain or something? Wait, don’t answer that,” I said. “Here’s how it is: I’m a genie, and now that you have my ring, you’ve got three wishes. Any questions?”

Sean’s face went slack. “I... Huh?”

“That’s nice, master. So, what’s your first wish?”

He stared at me, baffled, until one corner of his mouth flicked up. “Is this for the yearbook or something? Are you videotaping this?” He glanced around. “Hello? Who’s out there?”

“Fabry--”

He shook his head, still smiling. “Of course it was you. They knew...”

I straightened. “Knew what?”

“Griffin?” he called. “Did you put her up to this? You better give her at least twenty bucks.”

Like a kid, I stamped my foot. Here I was, a genie who could give him almost anything he wanted, and he didn’t
believe
me. What the hell?

Sean slipped my ring off his finger. “Here, take it.”

I recoiled. “Keep it. Really.”

He shrugged and shoved it back down his thumb. “It’s fake, right? No way this thing’s real. It’d be worth a million bucks.”

A million, a billion, maybe a trillion. It all depended on what he said after,
I wish...
“Yeah,” I said, my voice flat, “something like that.”

“I gotta get back to the game.” As Sean ambled closer, his smile softened. “You’re a really good actress, you know that? You should audition for a play or something.”

All I could do was stand there and watch as Sean Fabry, my new “master,” walked back to the soccer fields with barely a glance back to me.

CHAPTER FIVE

 

I didn’t trust myself to walk home, not at first. For a long time, I just stood in the parking lot, my thoughts bleary.

I wondered what Sean was doing now. Had he finally figured out that I wasn’t joking? If not, I hoped he would accidentally wish for another plate of nachos or some other totally easy and irrelevant thing.

So far, I knew Sean hadn’t wished for anything. It had been a long time, but I could still remember what it was like to have an un-granted wish on my shoulders. When I was little, my parents and I had tried to see if I could resist granting a wish (we found out later that you only get one chance to control a genie, so no more wishes for Mom and Dad). No matter how I tried, I could never hold myself back for long. A part of me always
needed
to grant the wish, like it was the right thing to do.

Oh, and the splitting headaches and vomiting helped motivate me, too.

I shook my head. Why hadn’t I just tied the damn ring into the ribbon in my pocket? It would have taken two seconds. I couldn’t believe how idiotic I had been.

I didn’t know how much time had passed by the time I was finally clear-headed enough to head home. As I trudged forward, I thought about the expanding the distance between my ring and me. I had been away from it before, when we had stowed it away in a safe deposit box in preparation for my first day of kindergarten. After about five minutes, I had cried so much about missing it that Mom and Dad had let me take it back.

But now, I was surprised not to feel the same terrible craving. I felt normal, kind of. At least, as normal as you can feel when you know you’re at the mercy of some idiotic jock.

When I got home, Mom and Dad were kissing on the living room sofa. It’s always gross to find your parents making out, but this time, I was too distracted to care.

“Hey, kiddo. Did the game end early?” asked my red-faced dad.

Oh, right. The game. I had forgotten to tell Nat and Raj that I had left. I counted that as yet another important detail I had overlooked today.

“Umm, sort of,” I said.

Mom frowned. “You look kind of pale. Are you feeling all right?”

I managed to shrug. “It’s just my stomach. I guess I ate a bad burrito or something.”

“Oh. Well, why didn’t you call us to pick you up?” said Mom.

I mumbled something about not wanting to ruin their date night. They nodded, satisfied, and I trudged upstairs to my room. Once there, I sank onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling, following the blades of the fan around and around as I thought about all the things that could go wrong.

For one thing, Sean might tell all his stupid friends about my secret, and then I’d spend the next few years zapping up beer and pot. The thought of it made me want to crawl under the covers and smash a pillow over my head, but I couldn’t let myself go catatonic just yet. There had to be some way out of this.

I still had magic powers, damn it. That had to count for something. I took a deep breath. “I wish...”

I sat up, biting my lip. This would have to be phrased perfectly; otherwise I might create some kind of weird time loop when I wished that Sean hadn’t found my ring. I didn’t know if I was powerful enough to screw up the universe (I
am
only half genie) but I didn’t want to take any chances.

I grabbed a notebook from my bedside table and started jotting demands and conditions, trying to think of all the possible contingencies.

I had just written out a pretty decent wish-draft when someone knocked on my door. For a freaky second, I imagined Sean Fabry on the other side, coming to demand his wishes.

“Layla?” Mom called. “Can we talk for a second, please?”

As relief splashed through me, I shoved the notebook under my pillow and answered, “Go ahead.”

Mom stepped inside and sat on the edge of my bed. “How are you feeling?”

I shrugged. “I’m all right.” And by
all right
, I meant,
totally screwed
. I added in what I hoped was a more optimistic tone, “Just tired, I guess.”

“Really?” She raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure there isn’t something else?”

Gulp.
I opened my mouth to say something (though I wasn’t sure what), but halted when Mom continued:

“Your father and I are really upset about what happened earlier today, too.” She put a hand on my knee. “You know we’re just worried about your condition, right? It’s not that we don’t trust you.”

It took me a second to realize what she meant. Our argument had only happened a few hours ago, but it was already hard to remember.

“It’s just...” Mom bit her lip. “Honey, you’ve never been away for us for long, and it’s hard for your father and me to think of you out there on your own.”

In spite of everything, I still felt a twinge of annoyance. “I’m not
moving
, Mom. I’ll be in a dorm with Natalie the whole time.”

“That’s not what I mean and you know it,” she said. “Listen, your father and I discussed it, and we’re willing to seriously consider letting you go to arts camp.”

A shard of excitement broke through my grey mood. “Really?”

“Yes, really, but only on the condition that we keep your ring somewhere safe.”

And, just like that, my excitement fizzled.

“It would be somewhere in the city,” Mom said. “You wouldn’t have to be away from it for long, but we’d feel better if your ring was in a safe deposit box while you’re in Chicago.”

“Mom--”

“Layla, we
know
you don’t want to do this, all right? You’ve made that extremely clear,” she paused, frowning before she finished, “on several occasions.”

“So, if you
know
I don’t want to, then why are you suggesting it?”

Mom exhaled a sharp sigh. “If you’ve got another idea about how to make sure you’re safe during camp, I’d love to hear it.”

“Umm, you could try trusting me.”

Weird how I could manage that with a straight face even while my ring was wrapped around on Sean Fabry’s finger.
It’s the principle of the thing
, I told myself. My parents didn’t even know I had lost my ring, and yet Mom was still talking to me like I couldn’t be trusted. Talk about unfair.

Mom crossed her arms. “How many times have you shared a room with someone?”

“I sleep over at Natalie’s all the time.”

“Sleeping over for one night is different from sharing a space for five weeks. You’d be doing laundry together, for God’s sake. What if someone asks about the ribbons in your pockets?”

“Yeah, Mom, because that’s what teenagers talk about: laundry.”

Her eyes locked on to mine, unblinking and serious. “It’s not easy to trust you when you act like this. If someone got a hold of your ring, it could ruin your life.”

“No kidding,” I mumbled.

“What?”

“Nothing,” I said quickly. “I’ll think about the safe deposit thing, okay? I just need some time to get used to it.”

Mom nodded and stood. “We’ll talk again later, all right?” She lingered in the doorway for a moment before stepping out into the hallway and shutting my door behind her.

Sighing, I pulled the notebook out from under my pillow and squinted at the scrawl of words. As soon as I finished this wish, I could move on with my life. With any luck, I would never have to think about Sean Fabry again.

I worked on the wish for about an hour, crossing things out, adding little notes, changing phrases. I must have read it over a thousand times, staring at the page until I thought my eyes would cross.

When I finally had something good, I cleared my throat and read, “In reference to the incident earlier today, I wish that Sean Fabry would have, instead of picking up my ring when he got down on the ground to retrieve it, merely pointed it out to me, rather than reaching over and grabbing it himself, thus allowing me to be alerted to the location of the ring in order to pick it up.”

I held my breath, waiting for the wish to course through me. Maybe the magic would suck me through time and plop me back in the parking lot. That would make sense. Once I got back there, should I return to the game, or walk home like I had already done?

Or, rather, like I had done
before
, in the first version of the past. Or something. I closed my eyes, still waiting.

A minute later, I blinked at the blue walls and general chaos of my room and tried not to curse or cry (or both).

Don’t panic,
I told myself.
This doesn’t mean the wish didn’t work.

I mean, I hadn’t specifically asked to travel back in time. I just wanted to change one little part of the past. Maybe the timeline had only moved around to accommodate my wish, but nothing else had changed. That meant I should have the ring with me right now.

I checked my pocket, and sighed as my fingers came up empty.

I should have known it wouldn’t work. Otherwise, nobody would ever get their wishes, and we genies could just mind our own business and live in peace. And who the hell wanted
that
?

So I still owed Sean three wishes. If I was lucky, he might run through all three of them without realizing what was actually going on, wasting wishes on small things like an five extra bucks or a refill on his soda. From there, I could probably just wish my ring back into my pocket and call it a day.

The possibility of three smooth wishes was a cold comfort, not viable enough to make me feel totally better, but at least I wasn’t so desperate anymore. Glancing at my alarm clock, I winced at the time. I had been away from the charity booth for a while, despite the fact that I had told Nat and Rajesh that I would be right back.

I fished my cell phone out of my pocket and found two text messages from Natalie, both asking if I was okay. I texted her back, telling her I had felt sick and had to go home.

Get well soon!
popped on to my screen almost instantly, calling a miserable smile onto my face. Right now, I had a better chance of giving birth to a unicorn than feeling better.

Since my time-travel experiment had been a total bust, all I could do was wait for Sean’s first wish. It was like crushing on a guy and waiting for him to call, but about twenty times worse.

I slipped into a ratty, old Hello Kitty robe and wandered into the private bathroom adjoining my bedroom. (Being an only child does have its perks.) As I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I didn’t even care that I looked like a puff of cotton candy--even if Grandma Grubman had no idea that I wasn’t nine years old anymore, at least she knew how to pick good bath time gear.

I filled the tub with bubbly, scented water, poured at the perfect, just-below-scalding, guaranteed-to-make-you-look-like-a-lobster temperature that I liked. Breathing in the sweet scent of Grandma’s Hello Kitty bubble bath (if you could actually
smell
pink, this would be it), the tension in my neck eased just a little. Even if my life was crashing down around me, at least I could always take a nice, relaxing soak in the tub.

I had just started to undo the belt on my robe when I felt myself float right off the tiles, hovering. As the magic sucked me away like dirt into a vacuum, I cringed.

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