Wishful Thinking (6 page)

W
OW, I CAN'T BELIEVE THAT REALLY WORKED,” Harvey marveled a couple hours later as the three of them piled off the school bus and congregated in a huddle on the pavement in the dull September afternoon. “I mean, no one said
anything
about the fact you were covered in paint or that you were wearing a hoodie that came down to your knees. Sixth grade really is different.”

“What do you mean?” Sophie looked at him in alarm. “You told me you were sure it would work. That's why I let you guys do it in the first place.”

“Yeah, but come on, Soph. You're orange and you're covered in Kara's kooky paint. You didn't really believe me, did you?”

“Not anymore I don't,” Sophie squeaked as she pulled out the small mirror and inspected her face again before realizing that there were still a few seventh graders loitering around them. She quickly thrust her hands deep into her pockets again. At least the buzzing in her ears had stopped, but she was still boiling hot.

“Sophie looks completely natural.
And there's nothing kooky about my paint either,
” Kara added with a sniff.

“Hey, don't get me wrong,” Harvey quickly protested. “I'm happy it did work, it's just, I was worried. Especially when she put her hand up to answer Mr. Langden's question about who first used bronze in their society and her sleeve slid up so you could see her orange elbow.”

“Yes, that was a mistake,” Sophie was forced to agree as they turned and started to walk toward her house. “But it was just when everyone else was getting the answer wrong, I couldn't quite help myself. I mean, who doesn't know it was the Mesopotamians?”

“Er, me,” Harvey admitted before turning to them both. “So what now? Do you want to practice your new skills or anything like that?”

“Harvey, if you're trying to convince her to magic you up some food again, then you can just—”

“Hey, of course I'm not. I have Cheetos.” Harvey looked offended, while at the same time obviously remembering that he really
did
have his favorite snack food. He instantly started to rummage around in his bag and pulled out a slightly squished packet. “I was just trying to be helpful.”

“And that's very kind of you,” Sophie assured him while waving off his offer of a Cheeto (for which he looked heartily relieved). “But the thing is that I don't need to practice anything because I've figured out a new plan,” Sophie confided while trying to resist the urge to grin, since, as far as she could tell, the idea that she'd come up with in her in math class (after she'd spent half an hour trying unsuccessfully to make her pencil lift off the table) was pretty much flawless.

Not that she was really surprised; after all, her dad had always taught her that the secret to success was all in the planning, and that even a bad plan was better than no plan. Which meant that Sophie had been coming up with plans for most of her life. Sometimes they were just for basic things like how to get her Barbie doll out of her faux leather Barbie pants after being left in the sun all day, and others, like the one today, were a bit more serious. But the important thing was that her plan now meant that the situation was under control. That was also another reason why she knew that her dad would be coming back. Because he always had a plan.

“What is it?” Kara squealed.

“It's simple. The reason I don't need to learn how to use my magic is because I'm not going to be a djinn anymore. I'm going to make him turn me back. I mean, we live in the twenty-first century; people can't just go around turning innocent girls in djinns. And if that fails, I can always go to the Djinn Council that he was talking about. I doubt they'd be too happy to hear what he did.”

“Oh.” Kara didn't look quite as excited as Sophie had expected her to. Instead, her friend chewed her lips for a moment before letting out a cautious cough. “The thing is, Sophie, he might not bother to come back for days. Or weeks even. . . and it's not that I don't want to paint you every day, because I totally don't mind, it's just, what happens when it rains? Or when you want a shower? Or. . . ” Kara trailed off, and Sophie looked at her friend in alarm, since her plan hadn't taken that fact into account. Suddenly, she felt ill, but before she could say anything Harvey grinned.

“Actually, I've got an idea that might help,” he said, and both girls immediately turned to him.

“You do? What is it?” Kara demanded.

“Well.” He shrugged as he paused from eating Cheetos. “I know I can't paint skin like Kara can, and I definitely can't try and convince a djinn to change his mind about something like Sophie can, but I sure can research the pants off stuff, so why don't I just do some djinn research? Plus, when this djinn does turn up, it might give Sophie more to bargain with. Don't forget that knowledge is power!”

“Harvey, you're a genius.” Kara gave him a spontaneous hug, and Sophie felt a surge of relief go racing through her. Then Kara began to bob her head up and down in excitement. “We can start now. Sophie's mom is working late, and—”

“And aren't you going shopping with your mom this afternoon?” Sophie reminded her friend and then watched as Kara's face fell.

“Oh, man. I totally forgot. She wants some help with Uncle Phil's birthday present, but I never would've agreed if I'd known that Sophie was going to have an orange emergency. Should I tell her that something else has come up?”

“Definitely not.” Sophie and Harvey both shook their heads at the same time, since while Kara was laid back, her mom was anything but, and she didn't take kindly to having her plans changed. “Besides,” Sophie added, “as soon as we find anything, we'll just send you a text or IM you.”

“Are you sure?” Kara still didn't look convinced.

“Of course,” Harvey assured her. “Besides, I'll probably get it done faster if you and Sophie aren't both in the same room together, since that's when you normally decide to paint my toenails or braid my hair.”

“We only did that once,” Sophie protested before ruefully grinning. “But it's a good point. Plus, whenever Kara is around, Meg tends to shadow us.”

“Fine,” Kara reluctantly agreed before waving good-bye to them both. Once she had gone, Sophie turned to Harvey.

“I've just got to get Meg from next door, but I won't be long.”

He nodded, and Sophie quickly made her way to the Daltons' house, where Meg and her (sometimes) best friend Jessica were eating cupcakes and discussing their new teacher. Sophie thanked Mrs. Dalton for picking Meg up, and the sisters made their way back to where Harvey was waiting for them.

Sophie let out an unconscious sigh of relief as soon as she stepped onto the porch of the two-story weatherboard home. She'd been born in this house, and despite the peeling paint and the lawn that had needed mowing for weeks, being here made her feel like everything would be okay again.

“What's wrong with your face?” Meg suddenly demanded as Sophie unlocked the front door, thereby proving that if six-year-old kids really did rule the world, then everyone would be in a lot of a trouble. “And why is Harvey here?”

“There's nothing wrong with my face, and Harvey is helping me with some homework,” Sophie said quickly as she tugged Harvey's hoodie down over her brow and went for a change of subject. “Anyway, how was your first day? Your new teacher sounds nice.”

“Well, she's not; she's awful, and first grade sucks,” Meg retorted in a blunt voice, but before Sophie could reply, her sister went dashing for the mailbox, and Sophie took the opportunity to quickly unlock the door while Meg couldn't see her paint-smeared fingers.

However, the minute she stepped inside there was a yowling noise from over by the window, and Sophie looked up to see Mr. Jaws glaring at her, his black and white fur sticking up and his back arched like the letter
N
.

Harvey looked at him in fascination as he stopped eating Cheetos for a moment. “Wow, will you check out that body language. I'm pretty sure that something is bothering him. I wonder if it's because he can sense what's happened to you. Cats have a sixth sense about these things.”

“I don't know, but whatever it is, he needs to stop it,” Sophie said in alarm before she turned to the cat. “Shhhh,” she hissed in a low voice as Mr. Jaws continued to stare at her as if she'd refused to feed him for ten days (which, for the record, was completely unfair since the longest the cat had gone without food was about a minute). “Seriously, Mr. Jaws, be quiet. Just go and chase your shadow or something.”

Yeah, right, the only thing I intend on doing is snarling at you until someone else figures out that you've turned into an orange-skinned freakazoid,
the cat seemed to say. But before Sophie could reply Meg came racing into the house carrying a bundle of letters under her arm. Thankfully, she seemed oblivious to the laser beams of hate that Mr. Jaws was putting out, and instead she darted over to the couch and scrambled under it.

Sophie, who had once found her sister asleep in the laundry basket, didn't even blink. Instead, she headed to the kitchen, pleased that Meg was distracted. She grabbed a couple of packets of mini Oreos and hurried back out.

“Meg,” she called as she tossed the Oreos onto the coffee table and dumped the library books she'd been lugging around all day. “There's a snack and some books here for you. If you want anything else, you're going to have to get it yourself because I've got some stuff to do in my room, and I don't want to be bugged. Understand me? Oh, and mom doesn't want you watching any shark shows, so it's cartoons or nothing.”

“What? But Mr. Jaws hates cartoons. They scare him.” Meg appeared out from under the sofa.

“And shark programs don't?” Harvey raised an eyebrow, which Meg rewarded with a frosty look. He held up his hands. “Sorry, of course they don't scare him, because sharks are awesome.”

“That's right, they
are
awesome.” Meg agreed with a sniff before turning to Sophie. “So please can I watch a shark show,” she begged in a high-pitched baby voice that Sophie recognized only too well. It was the kind that usually meant her sister wasn't going to give in, which in turn meant that she would be knocking on the bedroom door all afternoon.
Which definitely wouldn't be a good idea.
Sophie let out a sigh.

“Okay, fine. But if mom finds out, then you're on your own.”

However, instead of saying thank you, Meg merely switched on the television and disappeared back under the sofa, making Sophie think that she'd been played. Still, the important thing was that hopefully Meg would now leave them alone. She nodded to Harvey, and they both made their way upstairs.

The minute Sophie got into the familiar yellow-and-white wallpapered room, complete with the heavy cast-iron bed that her dad had almost lost his thumb and sanity trying to set up for her, she shut the door and let out a long breath.

“Okay, so getting past Meg is one hurdle down,” she said as Harvey dropped his backpack onto the ground and sat down in front of the computer, his fingers already flying across the keyboard. As he logged on, Sophie hurried over to the mirror that was hanging next to her favorite Eddie Henry poster.

Eddie was the Neanderthal Joe bassist, and despite the fact that most people crushed on the lead singer James Wilton, for Sophie it had always been Eddie (Did she mention that Jonathan Tait actually looked a lot like him?).

She instantly put her hand over Eddie's eyes before using her other hand to push back Harvey's hoodie and properly inspect her paint-smeared face. It was a credit to Kara's artistic skills that Sophie's even looked halfway passable. However, the moment she wiped her cheek with a tissue, Sophie realized that nothing had changed. Part of her felt like crying (a really, really big part); however, she forced herself to bite back her tears.

“I'm a positive person,” she quietly reminded herself. “A very, very positive person.” And right now she was positive she was orange.

“Hey, are you okay?” Harvey looked up. “You look like you're having a mini freak-out.”

“Sorry.” Sophie dragged her gaze away from the mirror and realized that she really would've had a mini freak-out if Harvey hadn't been there. “So how's it going? Have you found much stuff?”

“I have,” he said as he plugged his memory stick into the USB drive and started to download it. “A lot of it's pretty basic, and there is absolutely no mention of orange skin here, so I'm going through a list of folk stories involving djinns. Sometimes you get more truth from fiction.”

“Good idea,” she agreed, forcing herself not to look back into the mirror. “And actually, see if you can find the story about the foolish djinn and the foolish girl who rescued him. That's the one my dad used to read to me all the time.”

Harvey chewed his lip in concentration as he made his way down the list before shaking his head. “Nope. That one's not here, but I'll try another site, and then I thought I'd—”