Wishful Thinking (16 page)

D
ON'T.” SOPHIE SHOOK HER HEAD AS THEY REACHED the bottom of her path.

“I was only going to tell you that it probably isn't as bad as you think,” Kara protested in a hopeful voice.

“I know, but don't. Because, trust me, I was there. I know how bad it was,” Sophie assured her. “Anyway, I promise that I'll call you guys later, but right now I just want to go crawl into a deep, dark hole.”

“But—” Kara started to say before Harvey reached for her arm.

“Come on, Kara. Just give her some time.”

Sophie shot them both a grateful glance and slowly made her way up the path while trying not to think of the disaster that was her life. Her mom's car was parked in the driveway. For a moment she paused, since her mom normally worked later on Mondays and it was Sophie's job to pick up Meg from the Daltons and keep an eye on her. Still, this was probably better; the only thing she wanted to keep an eye on was the underside of her comforter, once she buried herself in it.

She pushed open the door and was just heading for the stairs when her mom poked her head out of the kitchen.

“There you are. Can you come in here for a minute? There's something I need to talk to you about.”

Sophie looked longingly at the stairs. All she wanted to do was go upstairs and hide away for the next hundred years or so, but unfortunately, judging by the “I'm the parent in this family” look that her mom had going on, saying no wasn't really an option. She walked into the kitchen and looked over to where Meg was sitting at the table with a bowl of Coco Pops in front of her, looking gloomy. Okay, so that couldn't be good since despite her sister's continued pleas, Coco Pops weren't something that even made it onto the shopping list. Which meant—

Sophie felt the blood drain away from her face.

“You've sold the house, haven't you?”

“I'm sorry, honey. I know it's not what you want, but the people made us an offer this afternoon. A good offer. I just need to sign the papers, and it will all be done.”

“Mom, you—”

“Please, Sophie. Don't make this harder than it has to be. I've already told you that we need the money, but it's actually your erratic behavior that has helped me to decide that perhaps a move would be a good thing. I don't understand what's gotten into you lately, but I know that it can't go on. When we're in Montana, I'll have the support of my parents, and perhaps you'll feel a bit more settled and secure.”

“Mom, no. If this is something that stupid MG said—”

“Sophie, that's enough,” her mom cut her off in a cool voice. “If you can't discuss this properly, then you can go to your room and come back down when you're feeling a bit more composed.”

“Fine.” Sophie took a deep breath and willed herself not to burst out crying, but seriously, this was just too much. “But don't expect me to be down again anytime soon.”

Then without another word, she turned and raced upstairs clapping her hands as she went. Malik was already waiting for her up in her bedroom. Well, she liked to think he was, but judging by the number of Cheetos packets that were lying around, there was a strong possibility that he had been there all day. He was also wearing one of her favorite Billabong T-shirts, which looked ridiculous against his harem pants and his Zac Efron face.

“Ooh, you know that frown thing you're doing with your face is really most unattractive,” Malik said the minute she stepped through the door. “You might want to stop doing that before you go to this concert of yours. You know how the old saying goes: ‘No one likes a frowner.'”

“Yes, well, I guess it's lucky then that I'm not going to the concert on Saturday.” Sophie glared as she stomped over to her bed and sat down on the corner of it.

“Don't tell me that the tickets you conjured up dissolved? That can happen sometimes when you're not completely focused.”

“What?” Sophie looked at him in alarm since this was the first she had heard of dissolving magic. However, she reached over to her nightstand and opened the drawer to display her pristine Neanderthal Joe ticket. “Nope, it's not dissolved. I'm not going because Jonathan Tait is never going to speak to me again. And do you want to know why he's never going to speak to me again?”

“Not really.” Malik quickly shook his Zac-like hair, but Sophie ignored him.

“It was because Jonathan Tait wished I would tell him what was going on.”

“Ouch.” Malik pulled a face.

“I'll say ouch,” Sophie agreed as she narrowed her eyes. “And it gets better. Because those people now want to buy our house. As in
buy
it. This is all your fault.”

“My fault?” Malik protested as he turned his face into the picture of innocence. “You should try haunting a house. I tell you, it's not as easy as it looks. All that moving from one room to another, then hoping that they're facing the right direction when you're in there acting like an idiot. Honestly, it was one disaster after another. But you can't say that I didn't try.”

“Yes, but if you hadn't come along and turned me into a stupid djinn, then I wouldn't be in this stupid situation to begin with.”

“Ah, but if I hadn't turned you into a djinn, then you wouldn't have been able to conjure up the Neanderthal Joe tickets.”

“I wouldn't have needed to because I wouldn't have been forced to spend my life savings on some potion to stop me from looking orange,” Sophie countered.

“You know a djinn could start to take offense at that.” Malik sniffed. “I mean, I was kind enough to bestow upon you unlimited power and magic, but are you even a little bit grateful? I think not—”

“Bestow upon me?” Sophie narrowed her eyes. “You tricked me into it, and even worse, you had no idea if I would even live or not.”

“And did you die? No.” Malik stood up and brushed some crumbs off his (or should she say
her
) T-shirt. “Honestly, you're overreacting.”

Sophie glared at him as she reached over to her nightstand and threw her library book at his head.

“Ouch,” Malik complained; he disappeared from sight as the book went sailing straight through the air where he had just been standing before landing spine up on the floor. “You know, if I had a corporeal body, then that would've really hurt.”

“Good, because I'm mad at you. In fact, unless you can think of a way to stop my mom from signing those papers, or stop Jonathan Tait from thinking that I'm a nutcase, then you can just go away. Okay?” Sophie glared at him before he finally seemed to get her message, and with barely a shrug of his shoulders, he disappeared from sight, leaving her to get on with the important job of trying to figure out a new plan.

However, by seven o'clock that night Sophie realized that there was no new plan. She was all planned out. All her positive thinking. All her looking on the bright side. And for what? So that she could have a horrible, boring future in Montana, with no Jonathan Tait and even worse, no Kara or Harvey?

No Harvey and Kara.

The thought of it made Sophie's stomach contract in panic. After all, the only thing that had stopped her from losing her mind with this whole djinn business was the fact that her two BFFs had been with her the whole way. And she didn't care what Harvey said, it wouldn't be the same if they just IMed each night. Especially since for all she knew, Montana didn't even have broadband.

Sophie pulled the comforter farther over her head while downstairs she could hear her mom and Meg talking and having dinner. Meg didn't even seem that upset anymore. Talk about a traitor. She had been bought out by a box of Coco Pops. But before Sophie could get even gloomier, there was a rustling noise on the other side of the room, and she let out a groan.

“Go away, Malik. I mean it—I'm never talking to you again.”

“Wise choice,” an unfamiliar voice said. “Malik always was a loose cannon who could talk a person into doing the exact thing he or she didn't want to do. And not that I'm one for holding grudges, but it will still be another few millennia before I forget about the whole Egyptian incident.”

Sophie blinked as she pushed the comforter away from her face and discovered that there was a very fat orange man in a garish Hawaiian shirt sitting cross-legged in the corner of her room, hovering five feet off the ground. She felt the blood start to pound around her temples. Last time this had happened, her life had taken one big detour for the worse, and while she wasn't quite sure if there was room for any more “worse” this time, all the same she clutched at the comforter and narrowed her eyes.

“Okay, who are you, and what do you want? Because if you're here to trick me into wearing your djinn ring, then I'm afraid it's too late.”

“Boy, Malik wasn't joking when he said you were a touch on the dramatic side,” the orange guy said as he floated down to the ground and held a large box in his hand. “I'm actually looking for the old boy. Is he around?”

“No, he's not,” Sophie retorted. “And you still haven't told me who you are.”

“A thousand apologies, dear child. I'm Rufus.”

“Rufus the Furious?” Sophie blinked since, despite having seen his picture on the back of the potion bottle every night when she used it, she couldn't really see the resemblance. For a start, his chin was lost in a sea of necks, and his nose was abnormally large, and (please don't judge her for this) there was something very unpleasing about his eyebrows. In fact, all Sophie could figure was that he must've used a whole lot of Photoshop on his Web site.

“Actually, I prefer Rufus the Filthy Rich. It has a much nicer ring to it. Plus, I think it presents a more positive image,” he explained in a polite voice as he peered around the room with interest. “So do you know when Malik will be back?”

“Never,” Sophie reminded him. “Why do you want him anyway?”

“Well, he's been buying quite a lot of stuff from the shop lately, and would you believe that on his last purchase we forgot to include the free steak knives?” He held out the box, and Sophie realized that there were indeed six gleaming steak knives in there. “Well, I say that ‘we' forgot, but really it was that waste of space ifrit, whom I felt sorry enough to employ. Honestly, the number one rule of being a djinn is never to employ an ifrit to do a minion's work, but did I listen? No, I did not. Actually, you should write that down.”

Sophie looked at him blankly as she tried to figure out if all djinns were as crazy as Malik and Rufus.

“Yes, well, you're going to have to find him somewhere else because I'm done with him,” Sophie said with a sniff as she pretended to dust off her hands in the air. “It's over.”

“Understandable.” Rufus gave a sympathetic nod, which made the layers of fat around his neck wobble like a turkey's. “Since even when he was a djinn he was more than a little annoying. But as much as I hate to defend the old guy, he really has been trying to help you out. I mean, not everyone orders my limited-edition, leather-bound
Djinn Guide for the Newly Blessed Children of the Smokeless Fire
.”

“Yes, well, if he really wanted to help me out, he should've never tricked me into taking his stupid ring in the first stupid place,” Sophie retorted as she picked up her pillow and started to squeeze it into a small ball. “I mean, seriously, first he could've killed me. Killed me dead. And now, thanks to this equally stupid RWD, my life is ruined. Forever—which, since I'm stuck as a stupid djinn, literally is forever. And while as a rule I try to stay positive, I'm really struggling to see how any of this is good.”

“You know, it almost sounds like you don't want to be a djinn.” Rufus wrinkled his orange brow in surprise.

“Really? And here I was thinking that I was hiding my feelings.” Sophie rolled her eyes, still stinging with the injustice of the whole situation.

“So bear with me if I'm asking a really dumb question here, but if you don't want to be a djinn, then why are you one?” Rufus carefully put the steak knives down on her computer chair and moved over to her bookshelf, where her djinn ring cleanser was nestled next to the collection of body washes and scented moisturizers that her grandma sent her every year for Christmas.

“Because I don't have a choice in the matter,” Sophie reminded him as she watched while he picked up the ring cleanser and shook the bottle. “What are you doing?”

“I'm seeing how much of this you've used. It looks like you've got one more cleanse to do.”

“That's right.” Sophie automatically nodded as she checked her watch. “In an hour.”

“Which means it's not too late to reverse your powers. I'm surprised that Malik didn't mention it to you.”

“What?”
The word exploded from her mouth like a hurricane. “You cannot be serious. Malik told me that it was completely irreversible. He said the Djinn Council gets really cranky when djinns don't pass on their powers.”