“So how’s your mom?” Summer placed her hand on Seth’s arm and he resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He knew Summer liked Seth, but it was kind of annoying that she was only being nice because Kirsten was in the hospital. He liked Summer – he did – but he also liked Seth. He wanted what was best for Seth, and if this girl was only going to jerk the guy around, then he didn’t want her to do the sympathy thing.

“She’s doing good. Awake and yelling at everyone again, so I think she’ll be fine.” The joke fell sort of flat, because Seth still had that scared shitless look, but at least he was trying.

“The doctors say she can come home in a couple days, so long as nothing else goes wrong,” he added.

“That’s great,” Summer nodded and linked her arm in Seth’s as they started to walk down the hall. “It’s like… a miracle she’s doing so well, you know?”

As they walked, Seth shot him a look.

...
 

He sat on his bed and stared at the bottle, frowning. After a few seconds, he tried again, rubbing his thumb over the smooth glass, harder than had ever been necessary before.

It didn’t work; the bottle stayed cold in his hands.

She wasn’t coming out.

He’d used his last wish and now he couldn’t even fucking take her out of the bottle.

Before he made the wish, she told him that once he used it, he’d have to give up the bottle. It was her destiny to go to someone else – to be used again.

He was such a horrible human being. He should’ve wished her free, he should’ve kept his word. But it was Kirsten. How could he turn his back on her? She’d taken him in and given him a home, even if she’d been wary of it. So he’d used his wish and now the bottle wasn’t his to keep anymore. He had to give it to someone else. And he knew he should give it to someone worthy – someone moral, like Seth, or someone who needed it, like some of the kids back in Chino.

But for some reason, he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t let her be used again, so he was going to keep her, even if he could never take her out again.

...
 

“Shit.”

“What’s up?” Seth threw over his shoulder, not bothering to look away from the video game.

“The bottle,” he muttered, rooting through his bag. He’d started to take the genie bottle everywhere he went, so no one could take it from him. He wouldn’t have her used again.

“You lost it?” Apparently this was big enough for Seth to pause the game and turn around. “How could you lose it?”

“It’s not like I meant to,” he shot back, dumping the contents out of his bag onto the bed. School books, paper, pencils. No bottle. “Shit.”

“Maybe you left it in your locker? Or around the house?”

“Maybe.”

...
 

“So?” he asked as Seth sat down next to him.

“Nothing. She’s never even seen the bottle before. I asked her if she took it and she gave me this weird look. I think she thinks its drug paraphernalia or something, cause she asked why a guy would carry around a bottle in his book bag.”

He closed his eyes and resisted the urge to strangle his brother. Sometimes the boy’s tendency to overshare made him want to scream. “Alright,” he breathed, opening his eyes. “We’ve tried Sandy and Kirsten and Marissa and Summer. Who else would go through my bag?”

“I dunno, man,” Seth shrugged. “Maybe it fell out or something?”

“Then it could be anywhere.”

“But does it matter?” his brother continued warily, like he wouldn’t like the answer. “You don’t have any more wishes…”

It did matter, though. It just… did.

...
 

“What’s up,” Seth asked as they approached Summer in the parking lot at school. It’d been a week since he’d lost the genie bottle and nothing. No leads, nothing obviously changed enough to be genie work. He kept trying to shake off the feeling that something wasn’t right. Of course something wasn’t right – he’d had a fucking genie. What the hell was ‘right’ about that?

“Chip got a new Ferrari,” Summer frowned, folding her arms across her stomach.

“You know, before I came here, I’d never even seen a Ferrari in person and now they’re everywhere,” he commented drily, taking in the brand new, bright red car that Chip was showing off.

“Well, let’s hope he doesn’t ruin this one like he did the last one,” she shrugged, turning and heading toward the school. He shot one last look over his shoulder – it was a beautiful piece of work – before following. “I’m surprised his parents let him get another.”

“Well, what their baby wants, their baby gets,” Seth mocked, scowling.

“Actually, Chip’s parents banned him from driving,” Summer corrected. “He wrecked his last car, and they told him he wasn’t allowed to have another.”

“Yeah,” he argued, frowning, “but these are Newport parents we’re talking about. I’ve only ever seen the Cohens be even mildly responsible.”

“Hey!” Summer protested, glaring at him. “My dad is not a ‘Newport parent’. And neither are Chip’s, actually. He may be a stoner and all, but they actually try to be strict. He must’ve done something big to get the new car.”

As they walked, Seth turned to him and raised his eyebrows.

...
 

“Chip Saunders has my fucking genie bottle,” he grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck as he paced the pool house. He had too much energy and it felt like every muscle in his body was tight.

“That guy used to pee in my shoes.”

“Exactly," he paused in his pacing and turned to face his brother. "We have to get it back. That guy’s a complete jackass, we can’t let him have her.”

“You can’t have her either,” Seth reminded him. “Remember what she said?” He shook his head no, because he didn’t. He hadn’t been listening when Seth and the genie had their ‘rules’ conversation. “Once you use a genie, you can’t have the same one again.”

“But you can,” he shrugged. The thought made him uncomfortable, but he shook it off. Seth was better than Chip Saunders. Chip probably made her walk around naked or something. He was probably going to get bolder with his wishes, too. Something more extreme than a car. “We have to get it back.”

“If you’re sure,” Seth agreed, still wary. He ignored that and started to plan.

...
 

“Oh my God, did you hear?” Summer gushed, sitting down at the table with them. “Chip totally crashed his new car!”

Seth’s eyebrows shot up along with his and they both looked at each other. “His consequence,” Seth mused, shrugging.

“His what?” Summer cut in, sandwich raised halfway to her mouth.

“Um… his consequence. You know, for being a spoiled rich kid,” he covered, and Seth nodded enthusiastically. Summer seemed to buy it and continued eating.

...
 

“Alright, so I distract him, right?” Seth rubbed his hands together nervously, shifting from foot to foot. “And you go through his bag?”

“Yeah. Just remember to be really annoying, ok?” He clapped Seth on the back and nodded in Chip's direction.

“I’m on it,” his brother nodded, still looking a little pale and nervous. Probably because Chip used to beat him up. “Alright, here I go…” Seth didn’t move and he rolled his eyes, giving his brother a little shove in the proper direction.

Seth moved and sat down across the study hall table from Chip and started rambling about something - much to the jock's dismay. He, on the other hand, took a seat at another table, directly behind Chip’s chair. He bent down to dig through his own bag, and stealthily slipped his hand into Chip’s. He felt around, but there was nothing bottle-like there.

...
 

“Maybe it’s in his locker,” Seth suggested. “Can you break in or something?” He shot his brother a look and the guy shrugged. “Right, you're still on probation. I guess breaking into school property wouldn’t be good for the ol’ juvie record.”

“Yeah. We’ll just have to wait till he takes it out of his locker. He has to, right?”

“I guess,” Seth shrugged and they continued walking.

...
 

“Hey mom,” Seth bent and kissed his mother’s head as he dumped his bag on the kitchen table. She frowned and tried to look hurt.

“I see how it is. Now that I’m all invalid, you love me.” He watched as she struggled not to smile at her son as he gasped in mock horror, pretending to be outraged.

“He’s probably just realizing how lucky he is to have a good mom.” She turned to him and her expression softened and she smiled. He ducked is head – he hadn’t meant his statement like that, but he guessed it was true. His own mom sucked.

“But what are we gonna do for dinner?” Sandy called, coming into the kitchen with a grin and breaking the tension. “Without Kirsten to cook, how ever will we survive?”

“I guess we’ll have to get take-out,” Seth shook his head, like the prospect was disgusting. “I mean, if we have to.”

“Oh, you guys are hilarious,” Kirsten pouted and rolled herself away from the kitchen table. “Just you wait. As soon as I’m out of this wheelchair, I’ll start cooking. See how many jokes you make then.”

He helped Kirsten out of the kitchen as Seth and Sandy bemoaned their fates behind them. “Very nice,” he congratulated, grinning.

“Thanks. Stroke of brilliance, if I do say so myself,” she agreed and he could tell she was smiling, too.

He and Kirsten had never really bonded, but after the accident, she seemed more… affectionate. Like she just realized what she could be losing. He felt his stomach clench every time he thought about that – how he was something she could lose.

He’d never been something to miss before.

He just wished he deserved it. He was only here because of a fucking wish and then he’d let the genie down by not wishing her free and then losing her to stupid Chip Saunders.

He didn't deserve anything.

...
 

Summer was bored. Algebra was like, her least favorite class ever. Not because she was bad at math, it was just boring. Plus, it was AP, so she was stuck with all the smart loser kids. Ryan was in her class though – apparently the guy was a mathematical prodigy – so at least she had someone cool to talk to.

He was late though, which was fine, because he’d been extra broody lately. Usually she could get him to break into a smile when she ranted about Cohen and his totally inability to behave like a normal human being. But ever since the crash, he’d had this look, like he wasn’t really paying attention to her. Not like she blamed him, though. Kirsten had been looking really bad.

It was a miracle she was in such good condition.

Sure, she had two broken legs and a broken arm, but there were no head injuries and the doctors expected a full recovery. Not bad for someone who was hit full on by a pick-up truck.

She’d seen a different side of Seth Cohen that night.

She’d been worried – God, horribly worried – that Cohen was just another spoiled, rich, Newport kid. Sure, he was a loser and he’d been picked on a lot and he seemed nice. But they all seemed nice at first.

That night at the hospital, though, he’d looked awful. His hair’d been a mess, his skin sickly pale, lips bright red and clashing with the whiteness of his skin. His eyes had been worried, dark circles underneath.

He’d been worried sick.

About his mother.

And she decided in that moment that Seth Cohen was a good guy. In that moment, she hadn’t given a shit what he looked like or that he read comic books and watched anime and listened to whiny music. She’d seen just about the worst of him and decided – in that moment – that she loved him.

It scared her shitless.

She’d never been in love before. Hell, she’d barely even liked the guys she’d dated before. And she and Cohen weren’t even dating yet. She didn’t want to tell him yet, either. It was too soon – his mom just got out of the hospital and she didn’t want him to think she was just saying it because of that. She wasn’t. She was pretty sure she’d loved him before the accident, but she’d been too much of a bitch to see it.

So she tried showing him in little ways – she held his hand, she took his arm as they walked, she smiled at him when they talked. No kissing yet – for the same reasons she wasn’t telling him about the L word. She wanted him to know it wasn’t about sympathy.

But Ryan didn’t seem to like her new, positive attitude. Every time she was nice to Cohen and took his hand, he’d give her this appraising look. She probably deserved it, though. He probably didn’t trust her or something.

“Hey.”

She looked up as he sat down next to her at the table.

“Atwood,” she replied. “I thought you weren’t coming.”

“Had something to do,” he shrugged, but didn’t elaborate. She didn’t expect him to, either. Especially because he was frowning, so whatever he’d had to ‘do’ probably hadn’t gone well. She’d ask Cohen later. Right now, class was starting.

“Alright, you can get in groups and work on problems nine through thirty-seven, odd,” their teacher called before he sat down behind his desk. One reason she liked AP classes? The teachers let them do a lot of stuff by themselves.

“Atwood, wanna pair up?”

He nodded and turned to face her better in his chair and they both started the problems, only talking when they compared answers. Ok, so he wasn’t the best work partner, but sometimes silence was nice.

The door to the classroom opened and someone vaguely familiar walked in. She wasn’t a student – or at least she’d never seen her around – but she had seen her somewhere before. Where…?

“Hey Atwood,” she whispered and nodded her head toward the new arrival. “Isn’t that the girl you took to that party?”

He opened his mouth to say something as he looked, but it never came out. Instead he made some weird choking noise before snapping his mouth shut and going pale. Apparently they hadn’t parted on the best of terms or something.

“Class,” Mr. Fulton introduced, sounding annoyed at having to actually be a teacher. “This is Taylor Townsend. She’s new and she’ll be joining our class this year. I hope you’ll make her welcome. Now go back to work.” He’d rushed the introduction speech and then sat back down behind his desk, leaving the new girl to find her own seat.

Ryan looked absolutely horrified to see her and a thought crossed her mind. So she put up her hand and waved the girl – Taylor – over with a smile, ignoring the panicked look the boy shot her. This was payback, for all the glares he’d been giving her lately.

“Hi, I’m Summer,” she stuck out her hand and the other girl smiled widely and shook it. “I didn’t know Veronica Townsend had a daughter.”

“I've been in boarding school since kindergarten,” she explained and set her bag on the table. “I transferred for high school.”

She nodded – that made sense – and turned to grin evilly at her partner. “And I think you know Ryan, right?”

“I do,” the girl agreed, still smiling brightly. “He was so nice and took me to a party when I just got back. I didn’t know anyone else, and Kirsten Cohen suggested he take me so I could meet some people.”

She turned to see Ryan’s expression, but he looked confused. She wasn’t sure what the hell that was about.

“So what are we doing?” Taylor asked, opening her book to the page she and Ryan were on.

“Nine through thirty-seven, odd,” she repeated and pointed to her notebook with her pencil. “We’re on number seventeen. If you wanna copy and then we’ll just work from there…”

“Oh,” the girl blushed and shrugged, looking down at her paper. “I already have them done.”

“What?”

“Well,” the girl explained, still red, “I wanted to be prepared, so I kind of went overboard and did all the problems in the first three chapters…” She wasn’t sure whether she was supposed to laugh or back away slowly at the girl’s obvious insanity, so she settled for a smile. “But you can totally copy off mine if you want…”

Alright, she liked this girl.




part 8 >>