Three Wishes (20 page)

“If you go with him now, it's going to change our friendship. Don't do it.”

Luke puts a warning hand on Leia's arm.

“No, Luke, I have to speak my mind. If you choose him, you're making the wrong choice. You still haven't told me about why you changed back in December. You
know
what I mean.” She half-rises from her seat, hands on her hips. “You never want to talk about anything that matters anymore. You should see how different you have become. And it's not good. Right, Joel? You agree with me, I can tell.”

My heart's beating a mile a minute. Non-confrontational me has just grown some backbone, and I start walking away, though with her last words I swing around to look at Joel. But he's staring down at the table and won't meet anyone's eyes. I swallow, and with a final glance at Leia, I say, “See ya,” grab Pete's hand, and leave my best friend behind.

When the gods wish to punish us, they answer our prayers. — Oscar Wilde

The next few weeks are among the busiest of my life, and I am consumed by Pete and school, trying to distract myself from missing my friends. It's like, if I'm never alone then I'll forget how lonely I am without Leia.

The school hallways are plastered with prom posters. It's just over a month away, the same day as my birthday, and my deadline to find a master. I can't escape the reminders everywhere I need to pick
some
one — I guess it's going to be Pete — or risk losing everything: my powers, my new body, and my new popularity. Both my mother's diary (blank) and Dr. Morocco (AWOL) have left me without guidance going into this next stage of genie-hood, and I'm a little uneasy.

There's a buzz growing about Pete and me being voted prom king and queen, with random people approaching me and promising me their votes. Somehow, I'm not as excited about it as I thought I would be. I don't know if it's senioritis or what, but I feel like I'm dragging myself from day to day. I go out with Pete all the time and we have tons of fun, but it's not the same without Leia's snarky commentary or Joel's gentle encouragement. At least I see Luke on occasion at the parties I now attend. He's made some effort to get me to meet up with Leia, but I can't go back to her without hearing an apology, which doesn't seem to be forthcoming.

Besides, I'm busy. Super busy. And happy. I've been semi-adopted by Pete's friends' girlfriends, and one of them, Maddy, is kind of cool. Around her, I even feel like I belong. At the five-week countdown to prom, she and some of the other girls invite me to go dress shopping with them. I volunteer to drive when I remember there's a natural healing store near the big mall in Eastborough. It should be easy to arrange for a quick solo detour sometime during the day, which will be a great chance to go tetrahedron shopping.

On the designated Saturday, bright and early, Maddy bounces into my car. She's brought a mall map with her, with all of the prospective dress shops marked out. It's about an hour's drive, and we still have to pick up the other two girls going with us. Maddy seems wide awake and excited, but the other girls, Joanne and Taylor, are still groggy like I am, so we decide to make a quick coffee detour before starting the trip. I park at Perk-a-Brew and run inside for everybody's orders — too bad there's no drive-through in our town, because the rain is pouring so much I might as well be back in the pool. The others offer to come in, but I tell them I don't mind getting wet. Besides, I'm the only one who's wearing a raincoat.

I run into Perk-a-Brew, trying in vain to avoid the raindrops, and yank the door open. After placing our order, I check out the remodeled decor, and there at an intimate corner table, the one wedged next to the fake fireplace, are Joel and Leia. They haven't noticed me yet, and I'm surprised at how hard my heart is hammering as I see their heads tilted together in conversation, Joel's finger tracing the edges of the table as they sip their matching drinks.

Even in such a small school, I've been able to avoid close contact with both of them. We're done with swim team, Leia doesn't use her locker anymore, and we all sit at opposite sides of the room in the classes we share. So I had no idea my wishes to get them together ended up working. Ironically. The sickening feeling in my stomach might be because I miss them both, or maybe it's from a little bit of jealousy.

Growing up, I'd always imagined pulling faces while trying on dorky prom dresses with Leia. I didn't think we'd ever let a boy come between us. Especially Pete, the boy I've dreamed of for years. I shrug, turning my back on the happy couple, and grab the coffees from the counter. I pause to pull up my hood again as I walk out to the parking lot, but it's not just the rain that's put a damper on my mood.

By the time I return to the car, I'm fully dressed with a smile. The other girls perk up at the sight of coffee and share with me the magazines they were reading while I was in the shop. Grinning, I put thoughts of Leia and Joel behind me. The fight was Leia's fault, after all. I decide I am going to enjoy this outing.

At the mall we divide and conquer. Maddy and I will hit the classy department store at one end, while Joanne and Taylor plan to go to the small boutiques in the center. We agree to text photos to each other of any promising dresses. Right before we split up, I see my friend Marc on the other side of the atrium. I wave him over.

“Hey, girl,” he greets me with a warm hug. At least I haven't lost
all
of my friends.

“Marc, you know Maddy, Joanne, and Taylor, right?”

“Of course, of course, who doesn't know the hottest ladies in St. Philomena?”

He's such an outrageous flirt for someone who doesn't even like girls. Joanne and Taylor don't know quite what to make of him, but Maddy invites him to join us.

“Yeah, we'd love your opinion on our prom dresses,” I add.

“Such a cliché, no?” He rolls his eyes then flashes me his bright whites. “But it's
so
true — I am brilliant at fashion.”

“And you're lots of fun, and I trust your opinion. Come on,” I urge.

Somewhat to my surprise, Maddy and Marc hit it off, and we have a great time together, going through the rather mundane selection. A few times, Joanne texts me some photos of dresses they've spotted, but we're happy with a few we've picked out and head to the dressing rooms.

The first one, a hot-pink number, has Marc and Maddy both shaking their heads no.

“Definitely not your color,” Marc states. “Next!”

Meanwhile, Maddy gets lucky on her first try and scores a deep-purple A-line one-shoulder dress. On the rack, it's not much, but on her it looks like it was made to order. She has long blond wavy hair and blue eyes, and the dress brings out her coloring. And, of course she has a great body, but unlike most of her cheerleader friends, she's not snobby about her looks. She seems pleased by her find and changes back into her regular clothes so she can weigh in on the rest of my dresses.

The second and third, black and then blue, are also rejected, but the fourth one gives me a certain zing in my belly as soon as I put it on. Empire-waisted, it clings to my curves without being too revealing, and the color makes my eyes seem even more green than usual. I examine my image again and again, eyes traveling up and down my reflection in the dressing room's full-length mirror. I almost can't believe it's me.
I could be a model
, I marvel, gazing at my reflection. Of course, that's when I notice the goop in the corner of my eye, and the poppy seed stuck in my teeth from my breakfast bagel, both of which bring me back to reality and humility.

“Uh, Genie? I'm going gray out here waiting,” Marc starts in.

“Okay, okay. Here goes.” Taking a deep breath, I open the door and am pleased to see both Marc's and Maddy's eyes widen.

They nod in unison. “Oh, no doubt. This is
it
,” Marc says.

I squeal and throw my arms around them both. “Thanks, guys, I think so, too!” Laughing, all three of us do a dorky happy dance together.
Who needs Leia, anyway?
I clap my hands. “I can't believe we both found our dresses so quickly.”

“You must be our lucky charm,” Maddy tells Marc. We get a text from Joanne, who tells us they're not finding much but could use our help.

“Marc to the rescue!” Maddy jokes. We let them know we'll meet them at the food court in a little while.

We buy our dresses — mine's even on sale! — and have them wrapped up. I tell Marc and Maddy I'll have to special-order some shoes to match, since my feet are so ridiculously big I can't find a good selection in my size, but Maddy is lucky enough to already have some in her closet that will work. I don't mention I'll be
special-ordering
from the catalog of
Genie's Wishes,
since, despite the sale, the dress is still more money than I was planning on spending.

Speaking of wishes… I can't forget my other task today. “I'll bring the dresses out to the car, so we don't have to drag them around the mall,” I offer to Maddy. “And, um, I have to run a quick errand, so I'll catch up with you all in about a half hour.”

Marc asks if I want company, but I pass. Better to do this alone. “The other girls
need
your Marc magic,” I remind him.

They let me go, and I hurry out to the car. The day is warm for late April, but that doesn't account for the prickling of perspiration I'm feeling. I had pre-programmed my GPS to direct me to the natural healing store from the mall. Still, I hesitate, nervous about finding my perfect tetrahedron, then force myself to go.

The store, called Nature's Wild Kingdom, is tucked under a large elm tree on the main street a few miles from the mall. I first noticed it a few years ago, wondering who in our area would actually be interested in a place like this. It looks like it used to be an ice cream shop, though its serving window is now covered. There are picnic tables still set up outside, though. I park in one of the spaces along the street and head straight for the entrance.

A bell tinkles as I go inside. It's empty of people, and, though there's no air conditioning, it's cool under the shade of the tree. There's not much on the shelves. I guess I'm right — our area doesn't support much of this kind of business — but I can see a substantial selection of crystals along one side of the wall.

“I'll be right up,” I hear a man's voice call from the back of the store.

Not waiting for his help, I walk over to the crystals and begin to examine them. Most are of the
healing
variety. I'm not much of a believer in healing crystals, but some people swear by them, so who am I to judge? In a separate display, under glass, I spot about a dozen different-sized tetrahedrons in a variety of colors. I hope the one I need is somewhere in there.

About half of them are standard clear crystals, a couple of which are large enough to be used as bookends, but most paperweight-sized. Two are small enough to fit in the palm of my hand. A couple of pink tetrahedrons the size of my thumbnail are nestled next to a single, beautiful aquamarine crystal. A couple more book-sized amethyst crystals capture my attention for a moment, and I dismiss the last few, which are an ugly color marked
citrine
.

The parting of the beaded curtain, which separates the back room from the display area, sounds like the pitter-patter of raindrops. To my surprise, the man who emerges looks nothing like the aged-hippie-type I was expecting. Rather, he reminds me of a retired accountant, stoop-shouldered with small glasses perched on the tip of his nose. His pinched expression relaxes into a genuine smile when he sees me. “Yes, welcome,” he says, congenially peering up at me. “I'm Robert. How can I help you?” I tower over him by at least half a foot.

“Hi, uh, Robert. I'm, um, interested in the tetrahedrons.” He goes behind the counter and slides the rear door away so he can access the display shelves.

“Any one in particular?”

“Would you mind taking them all out, so I can compare?”

He does so, taking his time placing each piece on the counter. When his hand hovers near the citrine tets, though, I shake my head in rejection.
I'm drawing the line with those uglies.
I wait for him to finish putting the others out before I start going through them.
So far, so good.
I'm relieved I'm not getting that awful head buzz I had with Dr. Morocco's tet, so any of these should be fair game. Picking up a couple of the smaller, clear tets, I hold them for a moment, closing my eyes. Unsure what I'm supposed to be feeling, all I notice are the points of the triangles digging into my palms.
Next.

I open my eyes to see Robert nodding in approval. “You're going about this the right way,” he says.

I start, worrying he somehow knows I'm a genie, but then he continues, peering down at the tets and not noticing my reaction.

“Tetrahedrons are extremely significant, and should be chosen carefully, seeing as they can help you to balance yourself.” Now he sees my confused expression. “They're known to help focus, transmit, and store energy,” he explains, “and bring harmony to the soul, while protecting you from harmful energy.”

He sure sounds like an aging ex-hippie, despite his appearance to the contrary. He goes on about meditation and psychic centers, but I'm tuning him out because I'm focusing in on the aquamarine tet, and somehow I know it's the one, even without touching it. My peripheral vision blurs, and I get tunnel vision, with the tet at the center of it all.

I reach out, hesitant, and feel a little zing of electricity in my fingertips as my vision becomes, well, crystal-clear. Robert has stopped speaking, and I lose focus for a moment, wondering if he saw any of the energy exchange. Glancing up, I see his eyes are rounded in surprise, his mouth hanging open.