Becoming Jinn (18 page)

With a sly smile, I say, “Third, you don't ever—and I mean
ever
—call me a cheesy witch again.”

“But I—”

“Because I'm no witch, Henry.” The words I'm about to say I have never before said in the presence of a human. I'm not sure I've ever said them out loud at all. Why would I? Somehow, it feels time. “I'm a Jinn.”

Henry's enthusiastic nod follows his widening eyes. He knows what being a Jinn means. Henry knows I'm a genie.

 

16

I've kept Henry with me all morning. I don't know what else to do with him. Together, we serve orange juice and doughnuts, and alone, I give myself whiplash with the way I keep twisting my neck around, half expecting the Afrit police to come for me and trade in my silver bangle for stainless steel handcuffs.

But they don't. At least they haven't yet.

“Stop that,” I say, ducking the apple Henry beams at my head.

The apple thuds against the floorboards and rolls to the back corner where it joins the four other bruised Granny Smiths he's lobbed at me. He's trying to get me to use my powers again.

Two things I didn't count on when I made the decision not to leave Ranger Teddy in a bind and to stick it out for the rest of my shift with Henry glued to my side: one, his insatiable curiosity, and two, his weakness for Azra au laits (a quarter coffee, three-quarters milk, and a scoop of vanilla ice cream). He's had four since we've been cooped up in here. Four.

“That's it.” Henry darts to the corner of the shack. “There better not be a hole in your conjured bucket, dear Azra.”

So I admitted I can conjure things. After what Henry saw with Zoe, that revelation seemed minor. Besides, he tricked me. He definitely has a future as a lawyer.

His hand seizes his zipper.

“No!” I cry.

“Unless you're going to conjure me a toilet…”

A lawyer or a blackmailer. “Fine. Go. But straight there and back.” I nod to the wooden bathhouse directly across from us. “And don't talk to anyone.”

“Your wish is my command.” Dimples carve into Henry's cheeks as he bolts for the door.

That's it. I can't stifle my smile anymore. It's not my fault. His excitement is infectious, and I'm a Jinn. I absorb energy.

I groan.
What's wrong with me?
Forget about the Afrit, my model Jinn mother is going to disown me. I flop my stomach across the metal stool and hang upside down, feeling the weight of the blood rushing to my head.

Like dueling consciences, Henry's gate key purrs in one pocket and my cell phone nags in the other. I know what I'm supposed to do. What I said I'd do. What I promised my mother I'd do if something bad happened. (And for the record, her little if-when gaffe totally jinxed me.)

Slumping farther over the stool, every last drop of blood seems to pool in my head. But no matter how heavy it gets, it doesn't outweigh the lightness I feel everywhere else.

The Afrit haven't come for me. Which I have to assume means they don't know. If Henry stays quiet, if I stay quiet, they might never know.

No, Azra. This is dangerous. You know this is dangerous.
I shake my head. I should … I will … I am … I am going to confess to my mother. I have until the end of my shift to work up the nerve.

If only my powers included the ability to manipulate time.

“Green tea soy latte.” A hand slaps the wood counter. “And make it snappy.”

I pop up and smack my head against the shelf behind me. “Sorry, we don't have—” My dizzy eyes focus on the customer in front of me.

Yasmin.

What is
she
doing here?

She raps her talisman-wearing knuckles against the counter. “I'm waiting. Or do I have to make one myself?”

A mother and daughter get in line behind Yasmin. She turns and tips her black, cowboy-style beach hat at them. “This may take a while.”

Then she starts whistling. A theme song. The theme song to that silly old TV show that just happens to have a version of the word “genie” in the title. Has Yasmin always been this brazen or has something changed in the past year she's been a Jinn?

Her whistling gets louder. I don't need this today. I send her daggers with my eyes before yanking a cup from the stack. I've never had green tea or soy milk. But I've had green beans and tofu.

I conjure a steaming cup of the disgusting concoction and place it on the counter in front of her. “Here you go, Miss.”

The smell makes everyone step back. The mother takes her daughter's hand and whispers, “Let's just get something from the vending machine.”

Yasmin's glaring at me, but my eyes search for Henry. Him returning now is a complication I'm desperate to avoid. But when I find him, he's already hanging back, watching Hana bound down the ramp of the women's bathhouse. I haven't told him the true identity of my “cousins,” but from the way he nods slightly, I'm guessing he's figured it out.

Hand over her mouth, Hana zigzags through the picnic tables and stops directly across from me. The wide brim of her sun hat flops up and down as she addresses Yasmin. “I told you I'd meet you on the beach.”

Yasmin flicks her wrist in my direction. “But it would've been rude not to say hello to Azra.”

With a wince, Hana faces me. “I didn't ask if she wanted to come help with the you-know-what. I … I just figured why not make a beach day out of the trip here? Since you'd be working and she was over when you called…”

Yasmin waves both hands and a different set of colored bangles clanks against one another. “
She's
still right here.”

“It's fine,” I say to Hana brusquely, even though it's so not. But the sooner they leave, the sooner I can get Henry back here. “Besides, I'm already done.”

“Oh, am I that late? I knew—”

“No. Zoe wasn't feeling well. She was leaving early so I just went for it.”

Hana lays a hand on my forearm. “It went well, then?”

The warmth of her voice pulls me to forgive her for bringing Yasmin. The same way the feel of her skin against mine makes me consider asking for her help with Henry. But she's only been doing this a couple of months longer than I have.

My peripheral vision catches a yawn from a bored-looking Yasmin, who's been granting wishes for a year but who also slammed the door in Henry's face and stole Lisa's cat. No, I refuse to ask for Yasmin's help. But maybe if I can get Hana alone …

At the edge of the facilities area, Mina and Farrah emerge from the dune-lined path. The physical linking of their arms as they stroll toward us speaks to how close they are. That they're here too with Hana and Yasmin speaks to how close
all
of them are. Much more than I realized.

That weight from my head settles smack in the middle of my chest. My birthday party may have brought us closer, but that doesn't change the fact that if we were in school together, they would all be on Chelsea's cheerleading squad and I wouldn't even know there was a game.

There's no way Hana would keep this a secret from our Zar sisters. She's too loyal to them. Unlike Henry, who's patiently waiting, hands folded in front of his stomach, mouth shut tight, knowing without me having to tell him that he should keep his distance.

With a hop in her final step, Farrah lands in front of me. “You look super cute in your uniform, Azra.”

Mina slides her cat-eyed sunglasses to the top of her head. Today's eyeliner is a subtler blue, a perfect match for the ocean. As she picks a leaf out of Farrah's long bangs, she says, “Woods. Good for concealing our arrival—”

“But swarming with mosquitos,” Farrah finishes, scratching her ankles. She then gets a whiff of my mock green tea soy latte. “What's this?” She brings it to her lips.

“Don't!” I say, but she's already licking green goo off the corner of her mouth.

“Oh, soup. Not bad.” She passes it to Mina, who wrinkles her nose and pushes it away.

Farrah shrugs and is about to take another sip when Yasmin plucks it out of her hand and sets it on the far end of the counter. “I assume we're all set up on the beach?”

The sun glints off of the crystal headband in Farrah's hair as she nods. “Should be by now. I promised this albino boy he could rub suntan lotion on Mina's back if he carried our stuff to a less busy spot.”

Rolling her eyes, Mina says, “What she thought was an albino boy. I had to point out four more just like him to convince her it's just that your Massachusetts boys are a pale lot.”

“Like porcelain dolls,” Farrah says. “Ooh, like that cute one over there.” She points to Henry.

“Mmm,” Mina says, “but not like that tanned Adonis over there.” She points to Nate.

Hana lifts the brim of her hat. “Wait, that's your boyfriend, isn't it, Azra?”

My head feels like the ball in a tennis match. “No. Which? No, no, neither.”

Just when I think nothing can fluster me more, Yasmin's face looks weird. It's not until I hear what, if coming out of anyone else's lips, I'd call sincerity that I realize it's just her face without its coating of smug.

“Be careful, Azra,” she says. “Don't forget they're humans. Don't forget what that means.” She then conjures a small piece of paper and places it on the counter. “My new number.” She morphs back into herself. “You know, when, I mean if, you ever need tips.”

Great. Another jinx.

Yasmin then claps her hands together. “Come on, Sisters, let's get on the beach before the sand erodes. Azra doesn't need us.”

Like on my birthday, this hovers between a threat and a statement.

“Wait,” Farrah says, pulling something out of her beach bag. She places a homemade CD on the counter with the words “Drunken Toad” written in her rounded, swirly handwriting. “This way you can learn the lyrics before tonight.”

“Tonight?” I ask.

Hana's high cheekbones flush. “I didn't get a chance to ask yet.” She side eyes Yasmin. “I … I got distracted.” Her red hair spills out around her freckled shoulders as she removes her hat and meets my eye. “But we'd love for you to come with us tonight.”

Mina nods with her usual enthusiasm. “Yeah, for sure. It's a last-minute surprise show thing. I'm making us VIP passes.”

I hold the CD in one hand. Were they really planning to invite me?

Doesn't matter, because I can't go. Tonight … I have other plans.

“I can't tonight,” I say, looking past them.

Yasmin follows my line of sight that ends at Henry. She shoves her black-tinted sunglasses on her narrow nose and nabs Farrah, whose energetic good-bye wave I can't help but return.

“Another time,” Hana says, to which Mina adds, “We'll check our calendar and be in touch.”

Our calendar. As if they move as one.

And they do.

My four Zar sisters parade down the path to the beach like it's a catwalk. What I thought were individual mismatched bikinis actually add up to a whole. Hana's polka-dot top matches Farrah's dotted behind. Mina's red hipster matches Farrah's top. Yasmin's overflowing yellow halter matches Hana's toned bottom. Mina's black strapless matches Yasmin's black boy shorts. And underneath my beige shirt and white shorts I'm wearing a one-piece.

“You okay, Azra?”

The concern in Henry's eyes as he quietly slips back through the door makes me cling to the devil in my pocket. The gate key.

Suddenly what I should do is no match for what I want to do.

 

17

I'm alone with Henry in his backyard.

“One more?” he says.

“Just one.” I drag my toe along the surface of the water in the Carwyns' pool. I've resisted the urge to heat it.

“And it's really just the one wish?” He runs his hand through his hair. “Not three?”

In response to my nod, Henry takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes. It is at this moment that I wonder if the weight that lifted from my shoulders upon sharing my secret with Henry found a home on his.

He slides his glasses back on. “Even so. That's what I want.”

And that is how I wind up using my third and final practice ritual to grant Lisa's wish to be rid of her stutter. In this case, being invested wasn't a problem. Because his wish was also hers.

*   *   *

I should … I will … I am … I am going to confess to my mother.

But not today.

When Mr. Carwyn came outside to ask Henry to babysit Lisa and saw the two of us together, tears snuck into his eyes. The same way they filled mine when Henry and I heard Lisa speak without a hint of a stutter for the first time.

After their father left, Henry was reading to Lisa. He prompted her to try a page. Lip trembling, she looked at me and hesitated.

“Remember what your therapist taught you and go slowly,” Henry said.

The mix of astonishment and pride on Lisa's face when she read the page out loud made my heart stop.

“It worked, Henry! Just like Ms. Denise said!”

Barely holding back his own tears, Henry hugged Lisa and immediately began to cover for me. “Well, we've been working hard this summer, haven't we? Doing all Ms. Denise told us to do. Now, don't forget, she said it might take time. So don't worry if it comes back, okay? We'll just work even harder.”

Lisa vigorously shook her head. “It's gone. I believed. Just like with Tinker Bell.”

Tinker Bell or a genie. In that moment, I was okay with being either, but proud, and maybe even the tiniest bit grateful, to be the latter.

And that is why today has simply been for floating on a raft in the Carwyns' pool, for getting to know Lisa, and for opening the door and finally letting Henry in.

From my yellow-and-blue inflatable boat, I watch Henry finish wrapping a waterlogged Lisa in a towel. She curls up on the lounger, clutches her book, and begins to read aloud to herself.