Sealed with a Wish Read Free Page B

the spectators who had started to pour into the soccer stadium, none of which seemed all that interested in our decorated cookies. “That’s cool,” I said, sitting down.
    I should probably have been embarrassed, but I was still too upset with my parents to think about much else. It seemed like every little mistake I made around Mom and Dad was magnified to epic proportions. Sure, I understood that losing my ring could mean a lot of things: being exposed and enslaved, forced to grant any wish that came my way, even if it hurt people. Really, I couldn’t blame them for freaking out, but I was too stubborn to let myself sympathize for long.
    Caught between the two tugging emotions, I watched without interest as we sold a cookie or two before the game started. After that, our trickle of customers dried up completely.
    With the sounds of cheering soccer fans blaring behind me, I grabbed a cookie for myself and nibbled thoughtfully on a rainbow-sprinkled cow’s head.
    One corner of Raj’s mouth curled up. “You know, every time you steal a charity cookie, a little kid stops believing in magic.”
    Nat chuckled, and normally, I would have done the same. But today, Raj’s joke seemed kind of unfair, like I couldn’t even do something as normal as eat my feelings without getting flack for it.
    I stood. “I’m going to get a hot dog or something. I’ll be back.” Not waiting for a response, I slipped off to the concessions stand around the corner.
    With the game on, I didn’t think anybody else would be there, but I found myself standing fourth in line. The girl up front was Diana Bukowski, who must have accidentally wandered away from her crowd of spray-tanned wannabes. That was strange; didn’t popular girls always run in packs? I wondered what her bleached-out cronies were doing without her.
    Probably plotting a coup, I thought. Diana was kind of their Alpha Blonde (probably by virtue of her naturally golden hair) but I assumed there was plenty of competition to be Carter High’s Next Top Hottie.
    Diana ordered a Diet Coke (of course) and returned to the stands. Even as she mingled through the crowd, she never quite blended in. Diana was too tall and too pretty for that. Meanwhile, I could disappear so well that, sometimes, it felt like that was my magic power, instead of the whole genie thing. I felt a little flutter of envy--or maybe that was just my stomach growling.
    The two girls in front of me giggled loudly, craning their necks to watch Diana. “Such a skank,” said the one in the miniskirt, loudly enough that Diana had to have heard.
    I rolled my eyes. As the story went, Diana Bukowski had cheated on Sean Fabry, a fellow junior, at some lame party last month when she’d had a tongue-fest with a college guy. Most people seemed happy to call Diana a skank and call it a day, but I had a feeling there was more to the story than that.
    Not that I would ever really know, since I hadn’t been invited to that party. Like the rest of the lowly underclassmen, Nat, Rajesh, and I had only heard about the incident after the fact.
    Miniskirt Girl and her friend were so preoccupied with Diana’s skank-itude that they didn’t notice the clerk ask for their orders.
    My stomach gave another insistent growl and I heard myself say, “Hey! Order something or get out of line!”
    They both looked at me like I was some form of radioactive mutant dog beast, but it got them both to hurry up and order. That alone was enough to keep me from feeling too bad about my outburst.
    A few minutes later, I was devouring a hot dog with everything on it, drowned in relish just the way I liked.
    Miniskirt Girl took a sip of her Diet Coke and smirked at me. “Nice. That’s not fattening or anything.” As she said it, her eyes slid across my (totally average-sized) butt.
    I had a suggestion ready about how she could learn how to zip-and-button these new-fangled things called “pants,” but my mouth was full, so I just sounded like