Three Wishes (10 page)

I met her knowing brown eyes. “I, um, have noticed that he’s kind of hot.”

She threw her hands up in there and yelled, “So why didn’t you kiss him?”

I shrugged. “We just talked.” With his dad’s girlfriend. And we drove all over town looking for the person who betrayed his father. Betrayal, jeopardy, imprisonment, not all that romantic.

“Did he ask you out again?”

“He’s supposed to call me tomorrow.” All these evasive answers and especially the flat out lying were getting on my nerves. “So what’s up with you and your dad? Did you talk to him about UNC?”

Alex’s dad wanted her to go to a second string school where she could keep playing b-ball. Alex had her heart set on UNC or UVA, and even she wasn’t up to the standards of those women’s athletics programs.

“I mentioned it but I didn’t really push him on it.”

“Have fun at junior college,” I said to bug her.

“First of all,” she gestured with her hands as she said, “there are plenty of universities that would be glad to have me play ball, and second, I’m going to tell him!”

“Maybe you haven’t told him because you really do want to play college ball.”

“No,” Alex said. “I don’t want to. I’ll be able to jump into pick-up games any time I want. I’ll get plenty of basketball, on my own schedule.”

Alex wanted the whole college experience. The classes, the parties, the all-night studying sessions. She didn’t want to spend half her time on the road playing other teams.

“If you go to one of those schools, your dad could come watch the home games. You’d be in the stands with him. He’d probably like that.” I leaned back on the couch to relax.

“Nice try. Anyway, I have gossip on Brianna, but you have to pretend you don’t know.”

My favorite kind of gossip. “Done. Spill.”

Alex leaned forward. “So Bree went to the gynecologist because she was burning when she peed.”

Uggh. “Bladder infection?”

“Just wait,” Alex said. “They tested her for STD’s and she had to sit and wait. Then the doctor comes in and tells her she has gonorrhea.”

Oh my God! “No way!”

“So Bree is like freakin’ out and planning to chop off Josh’s dick.”

I could totally see Bree doing that.

“And then the nurse comes in and tells the doctor he has the wrong chart! It was the woman in the room next door who had gonorrhea.”

“Brianna has the worst luck of anybody I know.”

“Seriously,” Alex said. “So it turned out she had a bladder infection. She said they told her to pee within thirty minutes after having sex.”

“Why?”

Alex shrugged. “I don’t know. Something about bacteria getting pushed into your bladder. Anyway, Bree was so freaked out, she missed two days of school.”

“Poor Bree.” She probably couldn’t even tell many people much less sue for emotional distress.

Alex and I were the two virgins in our group. Me, because for one thing, I’d never dated anybody I liked. Alex and I figured it was better to wait until we were eighteen. Married seemed a little much, but at least we’d be out of high school if we got pregnant.

Plus, Alex was no way going to let anything keep her from her senior year of basketball.

Maggie was dating Michael, a major pothead, and they had sex like all the time. We never saw her anymore except at school. Kelsey used to be our shy African-American friend. We’d spent two summers trying to convince her to wear a tampon. It just totally freaked her out for some reason. So we swam all summer and she watched from the side for a week out of every month.

By Christmas, she was sleeping with Kyle. I hadn’t asked her why penises didn’t freak her out when tampons did. I mean, that whole sex thing is way more involved than just launching a tampon and going on your way.

“Sex just cannot be worth all that.”

“Not with a high school boy,” Alex agreed.

She had this whole theory on older guys.

Our favorite dance song came on, and we got up to strut our stuff. We burned off about a thousand calories to some of our favorite music.

The Genie Communication commercial played twice. “Who needs three wishes when you have unlimited minutes?”

“I still think you should be the model for your mom’s company,” Alex teased, taking a breather. “I can totally see you in that outfit hawking cell phones.”

“Not gonna happen,” I told her. Dressing up like a genie would just be asking for trouble.

“Yeah, pink’s not really your color.”

Once we were covered in sweat, we chugged down some bottled water and collapsed on the floor.

“We are showering, aren’t we?” I asked. My skin would totally break out if we didn’t.

We headed to two of the three bathrooms in the house and cleaned up.

By then, we were hungry. We microwaved a bag of popcorn and ordered a drama on pay per view. I couldn’t really get into it. Leo and his father were all the drama I could focus on right now. All this time, I could have used the mirror trick to get what I wanted. And I probably wouldn’t have been caught.

After it was over, Alex ran a few episodes of the TV shows with our favorite drool-over hottie actor, Jason Mercado, through the DVR. I’d seen them, of course, but they were worth watching again.

She gave me a blanket and pillow. I snuggled up on one couch while she did the same on the other.

“Would you rather kiss Jason Mercado or Derek,” Alex asked with a giggle.

Alex wouldn’t be caught dead giggling normally, but she got a little punchy late at night.

“Duh, Jason. Derek is not all that hot.”

“Really? Last week he was.” She paused for a minute before torturing me. “So now Leo’s at the top of the list, and Derek is, what, mud?”

With a roll of my eyes, I said. “Derek was always mud. He was just nice to look at. And I already answered your question, so it’s my turn.”

Alex snorted.

“Would you rather kiss Jason or my brother?”

“Sean?”

“Quit stalling, bimbo. You know I mean Ian.”

“I’d rather kiss Jason, but I wouldn’t want to date him. The paparazzi would be way too annoying.”

“So you’d rather date Ian?”

“I already answered your question,” she said, mimicking me.

“Do you really want to date my brother, Alex?” I rolled over to look at her ignoring the ball of horror in the pit of my stomach. “If you do, I guess you should.”

“It would be cool wouldn’t it,” Alex said. “You, me, and Ian, together all the time. Just the three of us hanging out.”

My left eye started twitching. “Okay, stop. You’re making me nauseous.”

“But you said it was cool.”

“If you really like him, then date him. But you’ll have to split your life into Jen-time and gross disgusting boyfriend time. Plus, it would so be a waste to lose your virginity to a moron like my brother.”

“I wouldn’t sleep with him, Jen. With Ian, second base at best.” She shrugged. “Maybe third if I’ve been drinking.”

“You don’t drink.”

“True. But wait until basketball season is over next year and I’m not in training anymore. I’m going hog wild.”

I had a feeling she really would. A year from now when she had less to lose.

“To tell you the truth. I’m not that into him. If you’re getting over Derek, I may want to play with him a little bit.”

“You are welcome to him.” Anybody was better than my brother. I considered telling her about his video game but stopped myself.

“So seriously did Leo kiss you, or not?”

“No!”

“Does he make you all breathless and dizzy?”

I smiled. “Yeah. Of course, maybe it was the hybrid he was driving. I do love the environment.”

“He drives a hybrid?”

“His dad does, actually. Leo usually rides a Harley.”

Her jaw dropped. “Oh my God, Jen. That is so not fair. I’m the one who likes the older bad boy type. Not you.” She tossed a throw pillow at me.

“He’s not older.”

“Pulease. He’s at least nineteen. He just doesn’t want to say he’s been held back a couple of times.”

I didn’t have anything to say. I couldn’t reveal anything so I didn’t comment. “I know I usually don’t go for his type.”

“But...”

“Leo’s smokin’ hot.”

Alex laughed.

When I finally got to sleep, I dreamed I was obsessed with a giant tampon. I chased it through the mall until I finally woke up. Why did my dreams always have to be so weird?

Chapter Eight

Mom and Dad had strict rules about Sunday dinner. We ate at one o’clock and everybody had to show.

I ran through the door at ten ‘til and dashed upstairs to dump my bag and purse in my room.

Sean passed me in the hall carrying a book.

Ha! “Oh, cool. Whatcha reading?” I hadn’t had much time to enjoy his punishment.

“Stormbreaker by Anthony Horowitz,” Sean said with a smirk. “It’s really cool. It’s about this fourteen-year-old boy who’s a spy.”

“A boy? No way.” He was spoiled rotten. “Mom and Dad said they had to be girl books.”

He sneered at me. “I already read two girl books, so they let me read this one before starting back. They’re afraid I’ll hate reading altogether.”

“How could you have read two books already?”

“One of them was a Junie B. Jones.”

“Those don’t count. That’s only like a second-grade reading level.”

He shrugged. “Mom and Dad said it was fine.”

“No way.”

Sean gave me an exaggerated frown. “It was the toughest thirty minutes of my life.”

He could read a book like that in thirty minutes. “It does not count.”

“Go ask Mom.”

“I will!” That little creep was just lucky my RokrGirlz loop understood. If they hadn’t, I wouldn’t let the punishments end with Mom and Dad.

Leaving Sean behind me in the hall, I raced down to the kitchen. “Mom! Did you really let Sean—”

Mom held up her hand. “We let him count one Junie B. Jones, and we’ve made it clear that the other books must be on grade level. As for the boy book break, I don’t think it’s such a bad idea. He’ll get through his ten required books in no time. The child has a month with no TV.”

“But—”

“End of discussion,” Mom said. “Now tell me about Alex’s. Did you have fun?”

I took a deep breath to control my irritation. “Yes. Her mother’s on another diet. We had Subway for dinner.”

“Another diet,” Mom said with a shake of her head.

“Soups on!” Dad yelled from the kitchen.

Uggh. Dad’s chili stunk. There wasn’t anything worse.

“Get your game face on,” Mom said. “I’ll cover for you after.”

Mom and I had a long-standing deal. I pretend to like Dad’s chili and Mom aids and abets my secret runs to Wendy’s afterwards.

“Yum, Dad,” I said as I went into the kitchen. “Smells great.”

Dad turned to smile at me. His favorite apron, from a Chili cook off in the 90’s, was smeared with tomato sauce. He took fifth out of five entries.

Dad’s chili hadn’t been so God awful when he first started cooking Sunday dinner. Sean and Ian had taunted him into making the Chili hotter and hotter. A full bowl of the stuff would probably eat a hole right through my stomach.

Not to mention the other thing. The disgusting boy thing that went along with eating beans. My brothers spent the rest of the day trying to out-stink each other. Sometimes my mother sent them to their rooms. Most of the time, she and I just hid out. Sunday afternoons were the only time Mom willingly listened to me practice my drums. Dad joined us too when the stench escalated past his tolerance levels.

“I was in a fraternity,” Dad usually said. “I can take pretty much anything.”

For some reason, frat boys had never been a real turn on for me. Hmmm.

Before I could escape, I had to brave the chili.

“Sean! Ian!” My dad was rubbing his hands together like some maniacal villain.

“Must be really hot this time,” I whispered to my mother.

“Good thing I restocked the antacids,” she whispered back.

Sean came running in with Ian on his heels.

“Hope you brought you’re A-game, Dad,” Ian taunted.

Dad puffed up with male pride. “Don’t you worry, boy.”

Dad scooped us each a big bowl and passed around a basket of cornbread.

I managed to snag two giant squares like usual. Sean was already eating his chili, slurping it down like it didn’t have jalapeño peppers in it.

“Good, dad,” he grunted.

Ian dipped his bread into his chili and took a bite. “Mmgd.”

I took a bite and chased it with some soda. Then I started on the challenging task of pushing the chili around so it looked like I was eating it.

“Good, Dad,” I said after tearing off a piece of the buttery bread and sticking it in my mouth.

“Dude,” Ian said, then gulped his soda.

I couldn’t believe Alex actually thought Ian was the teensiest bit attractive. I’d known her forever. She used to have more sense than that.

Mom chewed her way through bite after bite with solid determination. “It’s a little too spicy, dear,” she said. Just like every week.

Sean laughed. “It’s not spicy at all,” he said. Then he took a big sip of his drink.

My dad’s face was red and he was sweating. I was pretty sure it was from the spices and not from standing over the hot stove since I hadn’t noticed anything strange about him when I came in. Plus, he had his Sunday uniform on, shorts and a ratty t-shirt. He couldn’t possibly be overheated from anything but the chili.

I had to take another bite so I carefully mixed a small amount of chili in with a hunk of bread.

Sean finished his bowl and got up for seconds. Ian grabbed another piece of bread and hopped up too. He hadn’t finished his first bowl, but he never let Sean beat him at anything. Even being an idiot apparently.

Over the years I’d found that chewing as little as possible and swallowing quickly helped.

Last year I’d tried to bribe my mom into telling Dad I had an ulcer and couldn’t eat the chili.

As she shifted in her seat and chugged some more soda, I felt some hope that she’d finally give in. Or maybe she’d claim her own ulcer.

If we genies hadn’t sworn not to use magic in the Treaty of the Bermuda Triangle, I could just make my chili and my mom’s bland. Or at least edible. Or I could make one of the boys throw up and this whole chili ordeal would end once and for all.