As You Wish

by Jackson Pearce

  “Huh?” Aaron says, yanking his stare away from the screen. Someone shushes us again.

  “It’s a…family thing, sort of,” I mutter, trying to hide the surge of frustration that arises when I think about Jinn spying on me. “I called Lawrence, though. Go ahead and stay.”

  “Well…I should take you home,” Aaron says, looking longingly at the screen.

  “No, really, it’ll be fine.”

  “Okay,” Aaron replies, looking a little relieved. He pulls me forward and kisses me, but I dart back, hyperaware now that Jinn very well could be lingering nearby. How am I supposed to know if he’s gone or not? I hurry back to the lobby, trying to avoid the confused glances of the staff as I wait for Lawrence to arrive. When his car pulls up outside, I practically run to it and slide down in the passenger seat, slinging my purse into the back.

  I stare straight ahead as Lawrence pulls out of the parking lot, and wait until the silence is thick before I finally vent. “Jinn was there, spying on me. He was invisible.”

  “Ouch,” Lawrence says, but his voice has a strange sense of relief.

  Words flood my mouth. “He pulled Aaron off me! Like some sort of big brother or babysitter! I can’t believe him!” I growl. I can feel my cheeks turning an even deeper scarlet as I remember seeing Jinn lurking behind us, and then the expression on Aaron’s face when he thought I shoved him away.

  “He was just looking out for you, probably,” Lawrence says. His calm only enrages me more.

  “Looking out for me? If I want to make out with my new boyfriend in a theater—”

  “Make out? You hate PDA,” Lawrence says, raising an eyebrow.

  “Whatever, Lawrence. That’s not the point. It was a spur-of-the-moment thing. Not that it lasted long, thanks to Jinn. I’ve finally started feeling…I don’t know, like I’m in control of my life, but then big brother genie decides to make all my choices for me.”

  Lawrence turns to me as we roll to a stop at a red light. “Invisible spying, okay, that crosses the line. But I can’t exactly hate him for watching out for my best friend. Especially if Aaron was getting you to act like…well, to act like someone you aren’t.”

  He says the words like they’re supposed to be sweet or endearing. But my jaw clamps shut, and my mind races. Are Lawrence and Jinn in on this together? They both think I need a guy to babysit me on dates, like some sort of 1890s society girl? I fight the tension in my throat.

  “It’s not Jinn’s job to save me—or yours! What, do you think I need a babysitter? That you have to take care of me?” I snap.

  Lawrence puts a hand to his forehead. “Not like that—”

  “Apparently, just like that! I’d rather both of you just leave me alone!”

  Lawrence’s eyes glitter angrily in a way I rarely see, and I realize I’ve crossed some sort of line I didn’t know existed. “Leave you alone?” Lawrence begins quietly. Something in his voice is more serious, more severe than a response to my anger at him and Jinn for breaking my trust. Some deeper issue is bubbling underneath, ready to rise to the surface. “Do you really want that?” he continues. “I do everything for you, Viola. I drive you around, I listen when you cry, I cancel plans if you’re lonely. Without fail, if you need something, I’m always there. So now, when you’re making out with Aaron Moor, acting like someone I don’t know, I’m suddenly supposed to leave you alone?” By the time he finishes, he’s just short of shouting. Someone behind us lays on the car horn, and Lawrence jerks the car forward when he realizes the light has turned green.

  “It doesn’t matter!” I snap back as Lawrence takes a sharper turn than normal. “Being my friend and spying on me—”

  “Your friend? You don’t treat me like a friend, Viola. You’ve never stopped treating me like your boyfriend!”

  My mouth drops open, and I choke on my words as a few tears of anger finally slip down my cheeks. That was low. “I’m so sorry that after two years together, it’s hard to revert back to friendship, especially when you’re trying to control my relationships with other guys!”

  “Relationships? Plural? So far Aaron is the only relationship you’ve had, and you don’t even really love him!”

  “You know that wish was an accident—”

  “No, it wasn’t! Maybe you didn’t really want Aaron specifically, but you’ve spent the last seven months feeling sorry for yourself, and suddenly here comes this jinn who can fix your problems.”

  “That’s not how it was! I didn’t even mean to say it—”

  “But you wanted it the whole time! You wanted to stop feeling invisible, I get that—but you could’ve made that happen on your own. Couldn’t you have tried to talk to people, tried to move on, tried to be yourself instead of almost letting your entire existence end with our relationship? You didn’t have to drag Aaron or Ollie or me into this. I mean, did it ever occur to you, Viola, why I suddenly came out, yet you don’t see me dating? Haven’t you ever wondered?”

  “I didn’t ask for Aaron—” I protest.

  “Because of you!” Lawrence cuts me off, slamming on the brakes at a stop sign in my neighborhood. He shoves the gear shift into park and turns toward me. “Every time I’m interested in a guy, I know that if I tell the one person I want to tell about it—my best friend—she’ll feel more ‘invisible’ than before!” A car speeds by, horn blasting at us for stopping in the middle of the street. Lawrence ignores it and continues, quieter this time. “And it’s going to happen again, Viola. You don’t love Aaron. You’ll split with him, and until you can make yourself happy, no amount of wishing is going to stop you from feeling invisible in the long run. You’ve got to let go of the past and stop beating yourself down.”

  “Let go? I loved you, Lawrence, you know that! You let me love you—” I argue.

  “What was I supposed to do, hold off telling you I’m gay until you fell out of love with me—”

  “You should have told me sooner!”

  “I didn’t know—”

  “I knew!” Tears spring to life in my eyes, and I don’t even know what I’m crying about—Jinn spying, Lawrence agreeing with him, or this. I continue, “I knew, Lawrence, even if I didn’t say it! And if I knew, you knew! You didn’t say anything, you let me go on believing—”

  “Then you should have gotten out!” Lawrence returns, but his voice has softened. “You had the choice. You just waited for me to make it for you. Just like you waited for wishes to stop being invisible.” He looks back to the road, puts the car in drive, and eases forward.

  “Don’t put this on me,” I say through my tears. “I may need you for a lot of things, Lawrence, but you still should have told me. And if it hurts you to see me happy with Aaron, then fine. You hurt me first. You deserve it. Leave me alone.”

  I look at Lawrence for a long time, but he doesn’t turn to me or even appear to take a breath. In just moments, we’re pulling into my driveway. Lawrence’s jaw flexes, and I realize he’s gritting his teeth. He stops the car abruptly but continues to stare through the car windshield, like I’m not even there. I search my mind for something else to say, something to continue the fight, but instead I grab my purse from the backseat and throw the door open. I slam it behind me and watch as Lawrence pulls out of my driveway and speeds off without so much as a glance in my direction.

  sixteen

  Jinn

  “I GOT TOO involved. I don’t know why—why do I do this to myself?” I yell to the ifrit in the park. I can’t get the scent of Aaron’s cheap cologne and the expression in Viola’s eyes out of my head, even though it’s been hours—the sun has long set into a dark night seeded with stars.

  I’m jealous. What’s happening to me? Viola is angry at me and I care. I shouldn’t care.

  “You always had a soft spot for mortals, I think,” the ifrit answers, a defeated, disappointed look in his eyes.

  “It’s what kept me from becoming an ifrit,” I mutter. I pace back and forth in front of the oak tree, while the ifrit calmly le
ans against its trunk, arms folded. There’s no fear in Caliban. I wouldn’t feel like this in Caliban.

  Jealous.

  There’s definitely no jealousy in Caliban.

  “You’ve got to get home, my friend. You think this is what matters, but getting home is what’s important, your kind are important. Look at me—look how I’ve aged here! We were once the same age, remember? This isn’t what you want, to die as a mortal.”

  To change. To age. To be different every moment. To be like Viola. The thoughts that had grown to be something beautiful, desirable, become ugly and terrifying in the space of a moment. What have I become, that I could have any yearning to age? That I feel broken because of some girl? This is not who I am, what I am. I’m a jinn. A jinn, not Jinn. I have no name, no personal relationships—no matter what I’ve come to think. How many moments of my life are gone forever because of this?

  “Look,” the ifrit says. He steps forward and places a hand—the hand of a grown man, not a boy—on my shoulder. “You broke the three protocols about a hundred times—the Ancients are already furious enough about that. You’ve lost five days of your life. And look at yourself—you’re a mess, because you’ve started caring for a girl who is your master. Your master—not your friend. You are always going to be the creature that grants her wishes, no matter what she says or what you want to believe.

  “Get home, my friend. Get home to Caliban so you can make sense of your life again. I’ll talk to the Ancients, try to get them to go easy on you. I’ll tell them you just had a lapse in judgment and are back to following protocol and everything. Just get home.”

  He’s right. Of course he’s right. He understands; he’s a fellow jinn. How could I think a mortal girl could understand what I am? How could I think that in just five days, she and I could be…friends?

  “Besides, those flowers aren’t going to deliver themselves,” the ifrit adds with a grin. I force a fake smile through the stampede of thoughts in my head. The ifrit adds, “This is not your world. We aren’t mortals, always searching for completion and getting their hearts broken—”

  “It’s not like that,” I snap. “I just…I know I’m a wish granter, and she’s my master, but at the same time it’s like…it’s like she’s my friend.” The words are spoken not in affection, but amazement.

  She’s my friend.

  “Well,” the ifrit says, looking doubtful at this claim, “what did you think would happen—best case? She’ll forget about you when you return to Caliban, you know that. Or do you think she won’t wish, that you can stay here with her? That for the rest of her life, she’ll put you above getting whatever she wishes for? Even better—that for the rest of her life, she won’t slip up and say something like ‘I wish it would stop raining’? You can’t win this. In the end, you’ll be in Caliban. She’ll forget you. And whatever ‘friendship’ you think you have will be gone. Relationships are not for immortals. A bird and a fish may long for each other, but where could they live?”

  I gaze across the park. The sun is starting to rise over the pool on the opposite side, and the stars are fading away into a peach-colored morning. Dandelions are growing on the park’s sad excuse for a football field. There are no weeds in Caliban either. Caliban, my home. I miss my home. Where things are normal, where I’m not confused, attached to a…mortal.

  I turn back to the ifrit, a solid feeling in my heart and a firm decision in my mind. “Do it. Press her.”

  “A wise decision, my—”

  “But don’t hurt her,” I interrupt, as my mind jumps to the thought of the ifrit pressing Viola by way of some grisly accident. “I know it shouldn’t matter, but please. Don’t hurt her.”

  The ifrit raises an eyebrow and looks annoyed, but then nods. “All right. Give me a few days, I’ll come up with something that won’t hurt her.” The ifrit studies me for a moment more, then vanishes.

  I collapse onto the ground and stare at the starless morning sky. Soon. Soon, I can go home again. It feels as if someone has pushed a boulder off my chest that was weighing me down to the mortal world. It’s easier this way. It’s easier to be jinn than mortal. I’m happier this way.

  seventeen

  Viola

  I CAN’T SLEEP. It’s late now, and even though my body aches and it begs me to rest, my mind continues to storm with thoughts of Lawrence and Jinn. I can’t stop tears from filling my eyes every few minutes. I keep looking to the armchair Jinn usually sits in, how he sat there the night before while I slept, because…because I trusted him. Because I forgot what he was. Because I never thought he’d use his powers against me, to trick me. He was just Jinn, my friend, not some magical invisible creature. But not anymore. And Lawrence, too…something that feels like guilt and anger has settled deep in my stomach, weighing me down until I feel sick and clammy. I curl my knees into my chest and force my eyes shut.

  It’s hard to sleep—I keep jolting awake, both dreading and hoping to see Jinn in my bedroom. Morning comes far too quickly, and Aaron pulls into my driveway before I’ve even combed my hair. It’s raining outside, a misty, light rain that turns the sky the same color as the asphalt and makes my skin feel sticky.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Aaron asks when I toss my bag into his car. I’m not sure if he’s asking because my eyes are still puffy and red despite a layer of makeup, or if he’s referring to me ditching him yesterday.

  “Oh, yeah. Everything is fine,” I say, with a sinking feeling in my stomach, and try to give a lighthearted shrug. Aaron grins, nods, and reverses the car out of the driveway so quickly that my stomach spins until I’m so nauseous I beg him to slow down.

  “Sorry,” Aaron says, and drops the speed down by a few miles per hour. “Do you want me to tell you about the end of the movie? I was worried after you left.” He reaches over and rubs my forearm affectionately.

  “No, I’m good,” I say, sharper than I intended. I try to edge my arm away—for all I know, Jinn is in the backseat. Though I’m not sure why it matters; if he wants to spy on me and Aaron, he deserves to see us acting like a couple is supposed to act. I exhale as anger and hurt fill me again, and wrap Aaron’s hand tightly in my own. When we park in the student lot, Aaron leans over to kiss me, and after a moment’s pause I let him, some hateful part of me hoping Jinn is watching. But no one shoves Aaron; no invisible hand knocks him away. We just kiss, and after we get out of the car I can’t help but feel disappointed. It’s hard to be vengeful when Jinn actually is staying away from me.

  I fake my way through Wednesday with the Royal Family—when they ask me what’s wrong, I just claim I have allergies or a bad cold. It shuts them up, though a few explain how they just skip school if they’re so sick that people can tell. Somehow this is not as comforting as they seem to think it’ll be.

  I’m not surprised that Lawrence avoids me; after all, according to him I’m responsible for his lack of a dating life. At lunch, he sits at the opposite end of the table, leaving me surrounded with Aaron and cookie-cutter blonde girls. He picks at his food and leaves early, all without glancing my way. One of the blondes notices and suggests I go talk to him. “I mean, you two are, like, really close, aren’t you?” she says, rolling a carrot stick between her fingers.

  I shrug and try to act casual. “Not so much anymore.” The girl shrugs and goes back to eating her lunch of raw vegetables (a diet she swears by), and I watch Lawrence disappear down the hallway. I’m still angry at him—fuming, even—for the way he made me feel, for thinking I need to be babysat, for not telling me when he knew he couldn’t love me. But for some reason, my stomach twinges in guilt. I quickly ask how the veggie diet is going so I don’t feel compelled to follow him.

  Thursday is much the same. When I wake up, I scan the room for Jinn, but the house is empty; knowing this causes a sort of hollow feeling to creep up on me as I get ready for school. I silently mouth Jinn’s name in my Shakespeare class, where I first saw him, letting just enough of a breathy whisper escape my lips so that
if he appears I can pretend it was an accident. Somehow the fact that he doesn’t appear makes me even angrier—what right does he have to hold a grudge against me? He’s the one who was out of line. I even let Aaron kiss me in the school hallways to the point that people begin to whistle, figuring that Lawrence or Jinn will want to put a stop to it more than they want to continue the silent treatment. But no luck there, either.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow night, baby,” Aaron says as I get out of his Jeep on Friday afternoon. The rain has mostly let up, but the world is still gray and soggy. Aaron puts the Jeep in park and comes around to the passenger side to press me against the car and kiss me hard. I turn away before it goes on too long.

  “Yeah, see you there,” I reply reluctantly. We have plans to go to some party. Amazing how I went from longing for an invitation to wishing I could avoid a party, all in the same week.

  “Awesome. Need me to pick you up?”

  “Um…yeah. Yeah.”

  “Awesome,” he says again. “I’ll come get you at nine.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you later.”

  “Awesome.”

  Great word, Aaron. I dodge a last kiss and go inside, dropping my bag in the kitchen and collapsing on the couch to watch TV…alone. And lonely.

  I could say his name and he’ll have to come. Not that I really want him to show up simply because I gave him an order, but…he’d still have to come. I sigh and bury my face in a couch pillow as the sinking realization washes over me for the thousandth time today: Without Lawrence and Jinn, I feel sick and alone, so much so that it covers up any anger I might have. They own a space in me that Aaron and my new Royal Family friends can’t fill with lip gloss or beer, a space that’s raw and aching. Like I’m being broken all over again.

  Saturday morning arrives too soon. When I wake up, my eyes instantly go to the armchair. Still empty. I sigh and force myself to look away, catching sight of a few old painting projects piled up in the corner of my bedroom.