Sealed with a Wish (12 page)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

If anyone had asked me how I spent the rest of the weekend, I would have shrugged and told them, “Oh, just kissing, mostly.”

Obviously I had done other things (there had to have been a certain amount of sleeping and eating going on) but the kissing parts where all I could really remember. It was like I had been walking through a fog.

But, you know, in a good way.

On Sunday night, I crawled into a fresh, steaming bubble bath, the perfect end to the best weekend of my life. Lolling among the mountains of pink-tinted bubbles, I sighed contentedly.

I’ve kissed Sean Fabry five times,
came a lovely, perfumed thought. And yeah, I had been counting.

Thinking about this weekend was strange and awesome and confusing, all at once. A few weeks ago, I would have scrambled time to avoid Sean, but now I had to admit I was sort of glad he had found my ring (and not just because of the five kisses, either).

Admittedly, his first wish had been kind of a bust, but the success of his second wish had more than made up for that. Right now, Sean was at a “special family dinner” with his parents, which they had probably arranged to announce their decision to get back together. If the pictures on the wall lived up to even half the hype, it had definitely been worth the stress of losing my ring.

If I had known even a week ago that I’d be thinking
that
tonight, I would have strapped myself into the nearest strait jacket and called for the guys in white coats. Twirling the scented water through my fingers, I smiled.

It was strange to think that I hadn’t held my ring in almost three weeks now, but not as strange as how little I had missed it. It would be nice to have my ring back, though, when all this wish drama was done.

Which reminded me... Sean still had one wish to go. We had been too busy kissing (five times!) to really discuss it. I tried to think of what else he might want, but came up blank. Cars were probably out, as were other expensive objects. Now that we had brought his parents back together, everything else seemed kind of lame.

Maybe I could whip up the world’s best slice of pepperoni pizza. That was a silly wish, but not totally useless. Dad still had a gleam in his eye when he talked about the “world’s best steak” I had zapped up during
his
three wishes.

But then a new thought rattled the smile right off of my face.

Sean only had one wish left--would happen when it was gone? Anxiety lurched through my stomach, and I tried to push the thought away.
Why should
anything
happen after his third wish?
I wondered. There was no reason for things between us to change.

In spite of myself, another sliver of uncertainty poked into my thoughts as a pesky voice finished,
...except for the fact that you don’t have anything else in common.

I sunk down into the water, letting it rise to just underneath my nose. Technically, Sean and I had those five kisses in common, plus an appreciation for Aston Martins, and (I had found on Friday) a love for the gross-out comedy. Those had to count for something, right?

Right?!

I sighed, blinking away the jet of water that spurted up at me as I exhaled. If Sean and I were such a perfect match, then why hadn’t we started hanging out
before
he stole my ring? He had always been nice enough in class, but he had never asked me out until his three wishes had come.

Oh my gawd. What if Sean only wanted to date me because I was a genie? Sure, nothing wish-related had come up over the past few days, but what if this weekend had just been some kind of smoke screen to lull me into a false sense of security?

Clearly my IQ hadn’t recovered from that kiss on Friday night. Ugh, why couldn’t people just kiss with their brains or something? If my lips hadn’t distracted me, I would have realized all of this two days ago.

Instead of a cozy sanctuary, my bath now felt like a hot lava pit. Could a bubble bath actually turn mean? I popped open the drain and struggled to stand, my limbs heavy and stinging from the heat.

What time is it?
I thought. I had planned to spend most of the evening in the tub reading trashy magazines, but right now, all I wanted was Nat’s calm voice on my phone line telling me that everything was going to be fine.

“You’re just freaking out,” she would tell me. “You’ve got to stop catastrophizing.”

We had learned about
catastrophizing
last semester in Psychology. Since then, Nat had found a use for it almost every time I was worried about something.

As I trudged back into my bedroom, a cool burst from the air conditioner made me wince. Or maybe it was yet another unpleasant realization: I
couldn’t
talk to Natalie. “Catastrophizing” or not, there was no way I could spin this that
wouldn’t
make it sound like I had been hanging out with Sean Fabry behind Natalie’s back for weeks.

Which, okay, was true. But it wasn’t like I had
wanted
to lie to her.

I groaned and climbed onto my bed. Why couldn’t Mom and Dad just let me tell Natalie that I was a genie? They had known her for years, and it wasn’t like they didn’t trust her as much as they trusted me. I stared longingly at my phone.

Natalie would know what to say right now. Nat would be--

Oh, crap.

I sat up, my chest tight. How the hell was I going to explain to my best friend that I was kind-of-sort-of-maybe dating the guy she had been crushing on for years? Had I really become such a terrible friend that this wouldn’t have occurred to me--not even after five whole kisses?

Damn my gullible lips.

It was a good thing Sean had been with his parents tonight. Otherwise I might have stayed inside my brain-fog. I would have just skipped into school and started blabbing to Natalie about my weekend spit-swapping festival with the love of her life. My heart flipped as it hit me that I hadn’t disregarded Natalie... I had
forgotten
her.

And all because of a guy.

If Sean’s last wish came and went, and he decided to ignore me forever, then Natalie would never have to know what had happened between us. Then everything would be all right, wouldn’t it?

I shut my eyes, somehow managing to feel both relieved
and
totally miserable.

Besides, I wasn’t off the hook yet. The truth was, Sean and I might still be dating after his last wish (emphasis on the
might
). But if there was even half a chance, I had to give Natalie some kind of warning.

After neglecting her for so long, I owed her that, at least.

#

Nat, I’ve been seeing Sean Fabry behind your back for the last few weeks, and, since last Friday, we’ve also been making out.

I frowned at the crumpled Post-It in my hand, wondering when the hell
that
had ever seemed like a good way to break the news to Natalie. I had stayed up until three o’clock last night trying to figure out what to say, and I must have gone partially insane from all the sleep deprivation.

I crumpled up the yellow paper and tossed it into the bottom of my open locker. I would just have to come up with something else between now and English class, meaning I had just under three minutes to come up with something.

My red-eyed face stared back at me from my locker mirror, looking utterly unsurprised that no brilliant speeches were popping into my head. Maybe I could abandon a pre-planned speech and just say whatever was on my mind. It couldn’t turn out
that
badly, could it?

With a sinking feeling, I grabbed my lit book, then slammed shut my locker door. As I turned to leave, something blocked my way, spiking my frazzled nerves. “Crap!” I squealed.

Natalie reared back, her heavy literature textbook slipping from her grip. The fat, hardcover volume landed corner-first on her foot and she let out a curse.

I winced. “Ugh, sorry.”

“I-it’s all right.” She groaned as she reached down to sweep the book back into her arms. “It wasn’t your fault. I shouldn’t have sneaked up.”

“Right. Yeah.” At this point, I should have taken a deep breath and come clean. But, to my horror, it seemed like my brain had decided to switch off now that Natalie was standing in front of me (that is, within striking distance).

The way a drowning man imagines a life jacket, I imagined the crumpled Post-It lolling at the bottom of my locker.

“Umm, Layla?”

“Huh?” I blinked, abruptly aware that I had been staring absently at Nat’s head for about thirty seconds.

“Do you want to go to class now?”

“Oh, yeah,” I said. “Class. Sorry, I guess I forgot.”

Nat gave me a funny look, but shook her head and lead the way down the hall. “So how was your weekend?” she asked. “Did any little kids puke on you?”

Hearing my lie repeated back to me sent a wave of guilt churning into my stomach. By
babysitting
, I had (of course) meant,
kissing the guy that you’ve been in love with for three years, who might not even like me for real, anyway
.

Outwardly, I shook my head. “I escaped unharmed. Don’t think it didn’t take some creative acrobatics. My wrist still hurts from that back handspring I had to do.” Nat’s smile made my heart hammer a little less nervously. However, now that I had put her in a semi-good mood, it was time to totally ruin her day, if not her ability to trust, well,
anybody
.

I paused outside of our classroom, and she followed suit.

My expression must have been heavy, because Natalie’s brow knitted together with concern. “Hey, is everything okay?”

“Actually, no.” I sighed. “I mean, it
might
be okay, but it might
not
be okay. It could actually turn out to be really, really good, if it doesn’t turn out to be so totally, completely, terrible that I want to crawl under a rock or something.”

Stop rambling, psycho!
I commanded myself. I clamped my mouth shut, damming the tide of nervous words. For future reference, I noted the fact that I utterly sucked at improv.

“Layla,” Natalie said gently, “you don’t have to feel weird.”

I stiffened. Did Nat already know about Sean and me? She had always said she was part psychic. I eyed her carefully. “I... don’t?”

Nat reached out. For a frantic half-second, I thought she might smack me in the head.

Liar!
she would yell.
How dare you kiss Sean Fabry
five
times!

But she only put her hand on my shoulder and smiled. “You’ll totally get into the program. I know you will. You worked so hard on your portfolio, and you know, you really do have a good eye for pictures.”

Comprehension dawned on me with embarrassing slowness. Nat watched patiently as I nodded in thought. “Arts camp. Yeah,” I heard myself say. “That’s not actually what--”

She held up a hand. “All right, fine, we’ll look at the worst-case scenario, but not because I’m encouraging you to catastrophize. It’s just because it might make you feel better, okay?”

I felt my head bounce up and down like a dashboard ornament, even while my guilty conscience screamed for me to interrupt.

“Even if you don’t get into the arts camp--which I think is totally impossible, but fine, whatever--you can always try out next year,” said Nat. “And maybe your parents can let you come visit for a few days or something. We’re allowed to have guests in the dorms. I already called and asked.”

I smiled weakly. Nat had been looking out for me all this time, trying to make arrangements so I wouldn’t feel left out. Meanwhile, I had been running around town with her long-term crush. I was tempted to wish myself into becoming a better person, but I didn’t think my half-breed powers were up to that monumental task.

My stomach twisting, I took a deep breath. “Natalie, I really have to talk to you, and not about camp, either.”

Like a switch flipping, Nat’s face turned from open to serious. “All right,” she said quietly.

“Okay.” I took a deep breath. “For the past few weeks, I’ve been--Ugh, wait a second, that’s probably not what I want to say.” I shook my head, trying to collect myself.

And then the words popped into my head like magic, as if I had wished them there:
I’ve been hanging out with Sean Fabry, and I’ve been lying to you about it.
I knew then that this was the right thing to say, no Post-It Note required.

“I’ve...” I began, unable to coax the rest of it to my tongue.

Natalie’s face grew darker, either with worry or with suspicion. She didn’t demand answers, just watched and waited with a disconcerting amount of patience.

Out of nowhere, the tardy bell fired a long, shrill note, making us both jump. I put a hand on my chest, feeling my heart hammer under my fingers.

“Yikes,” I sighed. Now I knew how Sean had felt when he made that “cross” with the hockey stick and tennis racket.