“What do you wish for, Ari? Wish it inside, no words necessary, and I will make it a reality.”
Her conscience told her it was a lot of crap but her heart… her heart held on to this gimmick genie/psychic guy and it wished for something she had never even known she wanted until today.
I wish I could see my mother.
As soon as she thought it the genie let go, a wicked smile stretching his lips. Ari stumbled back at his expression, a spark of fiery red glinting in his eyes. He looked… evil.
That’s ridiculous. He’s not evil. Right? She narrowed her eyes searching his expression for light. There was none.
She laughed nervously, shrugging it off, turning to Rachel as a means of escape.
“What did you wish?” Rachel grinned.
Ari took a few more steps back. “If I told you that it won’t come true.”
“Oh boo you.” Her friend turned to the genie. “My turn!”
Feeling hot and thirsty Ari snuck out of the room as the girls grew more animated about getting their wishes granted. She pulled the refrigerator door open and enjoyed the chill that wafted over her skin, trying to shake off the weird guy in her living room.
“Did you like your surprise?”
Having already been wondering if and when Nick was going to corner her, Ari wasn’t surprised when she shut the door to see him leaning back against the kitchen counter. She shrugged. “Typical Rachel to pull something this weird on my birthday.”
Nick chuckled. “The girls seem to like him.”
“That’s because Rabir is built like Jared Padalecki and is half-naked.”
He laughed. “Yeah.”
An awkward silence fell between them and Ari took a gulp of Diet Coke hoping when she drew breath he’d be gone. He wasn’t. Still unsettled, Ari pulled out a chair and flopped down into it. “You enjoying the party?”
“I was until Rachel shut off the PlayStation.”
Ari snorted. “Yeah, sorry about that. When Rachel wants something done a certain way…”
“Yeah, I know, she was my lab partner this year.”
That made her laugh. She could just imagine how much torture Nick had undergone. She smiled sympathetically and watched his eyes brighten.
“God, you are so special, you have no idea.” Nick shook his head
Uh oh. Ari felt her stomach roil. She did not want to do this again. “Nick—”
“No, don’t.” He held up a hand to interrupt to her. “I know you just want to be friends, Ari. I do. And I know it’s because of that knob Creagh. So OK. Let’s be friends. Let’s hang out this summer?”
Blushing, Ari looked at the floor, unable to meet his eyes as she replied, “You don’t look at me like you want to be just friends, Nick.”
“That’s because I don’t. I want more.”
“Then we shouldn’t hang out. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”
“I know where you stand. I do. I can be friends with you without making you uncomfortable. Just… give me a chance. Please?”
Feeling bad, Ari grimaced, finally drawing her eyes up to meet his. “Nick… I want to hang out with you this summer but I can’t if you keep saying things like ‘I want more’.”
He laughed and stood up away from the counter. “OK. I won’t. I swear.”
“Do you know how many girls would kill for you to say that to them? You should be back in that living room, choosing one of them.”
He shook his head. “I want someone special. I’ll wait for her. And while I’m waiting I want to hang out with my friend Ari.”
Flattered, despite it all, that he thought her so special, Ari stood up, pulling a fresh beer out of the refrigerator for him. “Come on,” she said, clinking their bottles together. “Let’s go get that PS 3 turned back on.”
Nick and A.J. kept her mind off Charlie for the rest of the night with their antics. She laughed a lot with them, letting her worries disappear as she spent one last night with all the kids she’d hung out at high school with for the last few years. The genie mysteriously disappeared an hour after his arrival, an hour before his booked time. Rachel had been pissed because she’d paid to have him there for the two hours. Somehow, Staci talked her down. Personally Ari was glad he had left. The guy gave her the heebie jeebies and as for the thing she’d wished for… well… she didn’t even want to think about that.
For a brief moment, when A.J. wasn’t cracking a joke and she was left quietly sipping her drink, Charlie and the girl upstairs crossed her mind and the breath whooshed out of her body. She took a moment, not even pulling away when Nick wrapped an arm around her shoulders and hugged her close. The party played out around her in a blur of movement and color. Words were spoken, hands touched, lips kissed a cheek. But none of it meant anything to her. She let it happen, glad for the distance between her mind and it.
It was late when people started to leave. Rachel and Staci wanted to stay behind to clean up but Ari just wanted everyone out. Maybe she was more like her dad than she thought because all she wanted now was to be alone. She wanted silence. It took a lot of energy, and some pleading with her eyes at Nick, but between the two of them they managed to persuade Rache and Staci to leave. She hugged her friends as they stepped out into the cool night air, throwing themselves into the back seat of Staci’s dad’s car. God, she hoped they didn’t throw up. She shut the door.
Alone. At last.
Ari turned the lock on the door and strolled slowly back to her living room. Paper cups, streamers, and wrapping paper littered every available space. Her gifts were scattered all over, some of them already broken. Drink spilled onto furniture, food was crunched into the floor. Just the thought of cleaning it up exhausted her.
“I’ll do it in the morning,” she mumbled, turning for the stairs.
The strange events of the day buzzed in the background of her mind and echoed in raw pain in her chest but exhaustion won out. Kicking off her shoes, Ari climbed into her huge bed with her jeans still on and collapsed back against her pillow, sinking into the cold mattress.
Her eyes were just closing when she heard the creak of her door. Her heart spluttered and she looked up, squinting into the dark. “Ms. Maggie?” she whispered, watching as the dark shape of a person appeared in the doorway. “Who’s there?” She scrambled up into a sitting position, her heart pounding. An image of the creepy genie guy Rabir flashed across her eyes and she tried in her panic to remember where she’d put her baseball bat.
“Ari,” a familiar deep voice croaked and her eyes widened as her eyes adjusted to the lack of light and a shape formed before her, moving closer to her bed.
“Charlie?”
He gazed down at her, his hair all over the place, his clothes in desperate need of an iron. Ari felt the ache in her chest spread when she took in the haunted look in his eyes. They glimmered with unshed tears, blazing with the agony of his grief. Ari felt the choking sensation in her throat and tried to breathe through it. Somehow, everything that had happened up until that point disappeared and all Ari saw was the boy she loved… needing her. Silently she moved over to make room for him, watching quietly as he climbed onto the bed, stretching out beside her. Charlie’s head rested against the pillow and he turned on his side to meet her eyes. A tear slid down his cheek. He made a rough choking sound and his body began to shudder with wracking sobs. Without making a sound, Ari slipped her hand across the comforter to grasp his. She felt his fingers curl around her hand, squeezing it tight. It was only when the sounds of his deep sobbing quieted and the echoes of them finally drew still, that Ari relaxed, watching as his chest stopped shuddering, easing in and out slowly as he slept. Assured his grief had been momentarily eased by slumber, Ari finally closed her own eyes, letting her conscious do the same for her, their warm hands anchoring one to the other.
~6~
Wishes are for Dreamers. I’m Not a Dreamer
“Charlie, stop it,” she mumbled, refusing to open her eyes. She was so tired. The ti
ngling in her hand, the one that Charlie still clasped in his sleep, grew sharper until the uncomfortable numbness of it accelerated into acute pain. “Charlie.” Ari tugged her hand from his, opening her eyes. Shifting her head on her pillow she was surprised to find her best friend still completely passed out. Ari flexed her hand, willing the needle-like pain away, but instead it began to swim up her arm, nipping at muscle and agitating blood. She hissed, reaching out to clasp the arm with her other hand. A slight panic began to build as the pain escalated into her other arm.
“What the…” she trembled now, pushing herself up into a sitting position. “Charlie,” she whispered, wanting to wake him up but reluctant to unearth him from his peaceful sleep when he so clearly needed it.
The tingling started in her feet now.
Her heart began banging in her chest.
Cold sweat broke out under her arms.
What the hell was going on with her? Was this some kind of food poisoning? That chicken at lunch had looked a little pink in a certain light.
As the pain grew steadily worse, Ari knew she needed to wake Charlie up. Something was seriously wrong with her. Holding in her panic, she reached over to shake him awake and bit back a scream.
Her hand.
Her hand was gone!
Ari watched in horror as the limb began to disappear, like some invisible mouse had come along and was Photoshopping her body out of the picture.
The organ in her chest slammed so hard and so fast Ari was sure it was going to explode. “Charlie,” she squeaked as the fading began to accelerate around her body. “Char—”
Her body was no longer cushioned against the soft comforter and mattress on her bed. Cold seeped into her bones, blanketed by a hard surface that may as well have been a slab of Antarctic ice.
Had she fallen out of bed?
A sharp memory of her limbs disappearing before her very eyes sliced across her closed eyelids and Ari lifted an arm, patting her chest where her heart still raced.
It had been a dream.
Just a dream.
Thank the ever loving gods.
Groaning, Ari shifted her head and her neck complained with a crick, her hair sliding across a slippery surface.
What the…?
OK. I am definitely not in my bed.
Afraid to open her eyes, Ari took a minute, breathing slowly in and out, trying to calm her heartbeat, a heartbeat that was racing so hard she was close to throwing up. Another shock of icy chill slithered up and along her body from the floor. Ari’s eyes popped open.
Her chest instantly tightened, feeling the familiar symptoms of an oncoming panic attack. Letting go of a shaky breath, Ari pushed herself up, glancing down at the cold mirrored floor beneath her. Her shadowy reflection, mottled by the artistic bubbling of the mirror, flickered back at her like a stranger waving a friendly hello. Patting herself down as she drew to her feet, ignoring the bout of dizziness determined to lay her flat out back on the floor, Ari realized she was still wearing the same clothes she had been wearing at the party. Raising her head, her eyes took in her alien surroundings and she shook it, trying to rationalize, trying to stay calm. She was dreaming. Clearly she was dreaming.
She pinched herself and winced in pain.
“Doesn’t mean anything,” she whispered, her eyes catching on the stone walls that glittered and sparkled in the romantic candlelight. She peered closer, realizing the twinkling flash of color here and there could be attributed to the small precious stones inset into the stone walls. They looked like emeralds. “I’m just dreaming.” She nodded. “People have really vivid dreams like this. I’ve read about it. Maybe someone spiked my drink at the party and I’m on some kind of ‘trip’.” She exhaled heavily, glancing over the huge four poster bed with its billowing silk canopy made up of entirely fire colors. There was no comforter on the bed, which surprised her considering how cold the air in here was, but there was a decorative velvet blanket placed perfectly across the bottom of it, and millions of jewel-toned silk cushions scattered all over. The bed was the only splash of color in the entire place. The sparse furniture was as chilly as the atmosphere, cut and shaped from what looked like glass. “Must have been some drug,” she murmured, confused by the lack of electricity in the room. There wasn’t even a light switch.
So… what did one do on a drug trip? She glanced around. There was no one else here to entertain her. No TV, no laptop, no mus—
Oh.
A purple vase on the nightstand drew her attention. Heat seemed to radiate from it, making the vase appear as if it were pulsing with life. Intrigued, Ari moved tentatively towards it, her bare feet freezing on the mirrored floor. As she moved, the air cut around her and this musky, exotic scent tickled her olfactory senses, the floral headiness of it somehow familiar. It smelled like jasmine.
So she was dreaming in 3D IMAX with a scratch & sniff on the complimentary 3D glasses. Didn’t mean anything. “This is just a dream,” she whispered, reaching a hand out to the vase, sighing at the rush of heat that clambered happily up her arm when she placed her fingertips against the thick glass. Ari squinted. It really was unlike any vase she’d ever seen before. It was solid purple in color with a round fat bottom and a long thin flute of a neck. It reminded her of a genie’s bottle.
Genie.
“No.” Ari shook her head, stepping back. Creepy genie guy didn’t do this. It was a dream. Just a dream. In fact she was probably dreaming about this crap because of creepy genie guy. Rachel was going to pay for that little surprise. A gimmick genie at an eighteenth birthday party… what had she been thinking? And not just any genie. Hot genie. With evil, soulless eyes. Rachel was such a pa—
What was that?
Ari pricked her ears, straining to hear it again.
There it is!
Heart pounding, she turned, almost slipping on the floor in her hurry to follow the sound of voices. Voices calling in the distance. Ari shot off across the room towards a door buried deep in the shadows. Wooden and medieval in appearance, Ari wondered what the hell she had been watching or reading in the last few days to make her dream this stuff up. Grasping the iron handle that looked more like a door knocker than a knob, Ari pulled the wooden door inwards and gasped at the blast of cold air that sliced across her skin.
Her chest tightened. “OK. That was pretty real for a dream.”
Eyes watering from the sudden rush of oxygen, Ari blinked and tentatively stepped outside. Her feet were beginning to feel stiff and numb from the cold and the black flagstones beneath them weren’t helping wake them up. As her eyes stopped tearing, they took in the long stretch of flagstones before her. She was on some kind of huge balcony. The roof arched above her in stunning architecture, swirls and patterns carved into the stone, almost Middle Eastern in appearance. The roof curved down to a halt on her right side, held up by carved columns interspersed evenly along a waist high wall. Ari’s eyes drank in the colorful mosaic on the inside of the wall, mosaics depicting people and acts, almost like a story being told. It was like those ancient architectural reliefs her history teacher was always going on about. She followed the picture of a man on fire as his head reached the top of the wall and her eyes automatically looked out and over.
“Holy macaroons…” she gasped, stepping forward unconsciously. Beyond her perch in the balcony of this insanely amazing building, Ari took in the towering stone mountains that surrounded her, mountains that winked green under a winter sun. She squinted, trying to work out the flash and spark and realized the mountains were made out of the same stone and green gems as the walls of the room she’d been in. “Amazing.” Built into the mountains were elaborate homes that reminded Ari of the pictures she’d seen of Morocco, architecture that favored curves and color and arabesques. The homes grew steadily more modest the further they were located down a spiral into a valley hidden by a sea of foggy clouds. Ari’s eyes widened as she saw people in the distance, walking casually along rough-hewn paths teetering on the edges of t
he mountains. Just the thought of traversing those roads terrified the bejesus out of her. The voices she heard appeared to have been these colorful figures, who strolled back and forth, descending up and out of the fog in brightly colored, loose fitting robes and pants. In this weather? She shivered again, rubbing the goosebumps from her arms. These people were crazy.
They’re not real, Ari. Figment meet Imagination.
“Right,” she breathed. “I’m crazy.”
Just a dream.
Ari’s whole body froze; her muscles tensed, her shoulders hunched to her ears, her ears pricked up, her heartbeat did its best to drown out her hearing by rushing her blood around her body super-fast. It was the kind of reaction someone might have to the sound of a thief breaking into their house at night. Ari was reacting to the low, deadly growl that rumbled from somewhere over her shoulder. She gulped. Just a dream, just a dream, just a dream. Slowly, hands trembling, Ari turned, placing one foot carefully after the other. Her eyes widened as she turned full circle and faced…
“Holy mother of crap.”
…the thing before her… oh god, oh god, what is it, what is it?
The growling grew deeper and louder as she began backing away slowly towards the room she had just come out of and she felt the bile rise as the thing took an awkward unbalanced step towards her.
You are so seriously messed up if you can dream this kind of stuff up, Ari!
The monster – for that’s what it was – snarled. As far as Ari could tell its mulch-shaped head was really only half of a face. It had one eye, dark and lidless with thick, pulsing red veins flowing out from under its mud-colored skin, skin that crinkled like paper when it moved. It had no nose cartilage, no bone structure, just a hole in the middle of its… face?... that grew bigger and then smaller as it breathed its fury at her presence. As for the thing’s mouth…
“Just a dream, just a dream,” Ari chanted, backing all the way into the room now, her knees dying to buckle in terror as it followed her predatorily, saliva dripping between its black gums and razor-sharp teeth. The ugly horror of the creature was only increased by its lack of a left arm and lack of a right leg. Its twisted malformed body slithered towards her, somehow balanced despite its deformities. Its long, blackened claws clacked and scraped harshly in a high whine against the mirrored floors as it continued to back her into a corner.
Smokeless Fire (Fire Spirits #1) Page 7
