The Secret Ingredient of Wishes (17 page)

Lola's eyes widened and darted around the faces watching her. Her fingers left red marks on her skin when she pawed at her throat. She bent forward, her hair swinging down to shield her face, and stumbled into Everley as she struggled for breath.

“Hey, are you okay?” Everley asked. She hit Lola on the back again, a sharp slap of skin on skin.

“Someone, get her some water,” Rachel said loud enough for the groups of people clustered near them to hear. A few people looked over at them, but no one moved to help. “Ashe,” she said, not sure what she was asking of him.

He dropped his hand from Rachel's shoulders and stepped toward Lola, while Jamie ran off to find a bottle of water. Ashe slipped an arm around Lola's waist to keep her upright, and her fingers clutched at his shirt, pulling him closer.

Rachel drowned out Everley's soft murmurs telling Lola that everything would be okay. She ignored the fact that Ashe had yet to say anything at all.
Please don't do this. Let her be okay
. She checked that they were focused on unblocking Lola's airway and plucked the wish from Lola's silky hair. The bobby pin that had held the wish in place pulled with it, ripping out a few strands of hair with it. Lola whipped her head up and managed a half cough, half yelp. Rachel crumpled the paper in her fist and shoved it into the mess of chocolate and peanut butter in her napkin.

After a few seconds, Lola's quick, wheezing breaths filled her ears. Jamie rushed back, cracking the top off a water bottle before he even reached them so some water splashed onto his shirt. People turned to watch him jog by, eyes widening when they saw Lola's red face and teary eyes. Ashe released his grip on Lola and backed away, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He kept his eyes on the ground, even when Lola coughed and coughed, a deep hacking sound that grabbed the attention of even more festival-goers.

“Here, drink this,” Everley said. She took the water from Jamie, pressed the bottle into Lola's shaking hands, and helped guide it to her lips.

Lola took slow sips, punctuated by a whimper each time she paused. Her cheeks remained bright pink, her eyes wide with shock.

“All good?” Jamie asked. When she nodded, his smile shifted from concern to relief and he swatted Ashe's shoulder with the back of his hand.

Ashe still didn't say a word, but at least his jaw had unclenched. Rachel quickly tossed the napkin and wish into a nearby trash can and closed the few feet of space between them, still trying to catch her own breath. Ashe tilted his head toward her, worry pooling in his eyes until he blinked it away.

People crowded around them now. Pushed in closer so their arms and shoulders bumped and their whispers tangled together like the soft droning of bees. Curiosity rolled off of them in hot waves, turning the air thick and hard to breathe.

Rachel tugged at the top of her dress as a drop of sweat slid down her neck and disappeared beneath the fabric. “Are you okay?” she whispered.

“Yeah, you?” he asked.

“I'm just glad she's all right.”

Lola locked her accusing eyes on Rachel. “You did that. You almost killed me.” Her raspy voice silenced the onlookers.

Shaking her head, Rachel said, “I didn't—”

“You made Ashe's wish come true just like I said you could. They saw you do it.”

Rachel flicked her eyes to the trash, to the wish hidden within.

“No, Lola,
you
did that,” Ashe said. He threw up his hands and faced her, shoulders tensed for a fight. “What I saw was you pretending to choke, to prove some ridiculous point you're trying to make. That's pretty damn low. Even for you.”

Lola swayed back a step as if he'd slapped her. She steadied herself with a hand on Everley's arm and looked at him, mouth parted but no words coming out.

“Ashe,” Jamie said.

“She wasn't faking that,” Everley said, cutting off whatever sense Jamie was going to try to talk into his friend. “Whatever just happened was a very bad coincidence. Right, Rachel?”

“I guess,” she said. Nerves shook her voice, but she hoped it was too quiet for anyone to notice.

“It was not a coincidence,” Lola said. She shot a look around the crowd still hovering near them. “She can make wishes come true whether she admits it or not.”

Ashe cocked an eyebrow at her, smiling at the people over her shoulder like he thought the sun had addled her brain. “Whatever you say, Lola.”

“You don't believe me? Ask her about what she did to her brother.”

Rachel's breath caught in her throat. Whatever words she might've said to contradict Lola stalled on her tongue. She didn't look at any of them before walking away. Her heels stuck into the grass with every step, and the back straps dug into the blisters, stinging her raw skin. But she didn't stop. She couldn't watch as Lola tore down the life she'd been building with one well-placed blow.

 

16

Rachel struggled to catch her breath as she made it to the road, which had been closed to traffic for the festival. The street was filled with lawn chairs and blankets. Kids played duck-duck-goose and tag while their parents chatted and nursed cups of beer. Rachel picked her way through the jumble of metal and cloth and body parts. Despite her hurry, she was careful not to step on anyone's hands or toes. She murmured an apology every few steps until she broke free on the other side.

“Wait up,” Ashe called.

How long had he been following her? She tossed a quick glance over her shoulder. He still had a few blankets to go before he was free of the mass of people slowing him down. She ducked down the first street she came to. It was familiar, but all the homes in downtown Nowhere looked familiar, with their Victorian styles and lazy wraparound porches. In her frustration, she couldn't tell if she actually knew where the street would lead.

She cursed Lola for trying to blackmail her. And for forcing her to run away from Ashe when she should've been sitting with him on a blanket somewhere waiting for the fireworks to start. Waiting to see if there was something more to this jumble of feelings growing between them.

Rachel shoved the thought from her head and pulled at her dress, which twisted around her thighs as she walked.

Ashe jogged to catch her, his shoes slapping against the pavement. “C'mon, Rachel. You're not gonna make it all the way home in those shoes. And if you do, you're gonna regret it.”

“I can't do this right now, Ashe,” she yelled back to him. But she paused long enough to remove her shoes.

It was all the time he needed to reach her. He circled around in front of her and stopped. “She had no right to blame you for what happened. And I don't know how she found out about your brother, but saying what she did was completely uncalled for.”

“Who cares what Lola says? It's not like anyone will believe her.”
I can't let them believe her.

They walked on in silence.

The smell of barbecue smoke diminished the farther they got from the park. The first firework vibrated through her, and Ashe ran a hand down her arm when she jumped at the loud boom that followed. When he stopped to watch the next one from someone's front yard, she tried to keep walking. He linked his fingers with hers before she got out of reach and pulled her back.

“Just wait. Please?” he asked.

The fireworks burst above them, dousing everything from the treetops to the grass in shades of green, red, blue, and gold. They had to crane their necks to see the biggest ones. His hand was warm in hers. Solid, like a lifeline. She wanted to say something to let him know she wasn't mad at him, to share some part of herself so he would see she didn't want him to give up on her.

So she let part of the truth slip out.

“My brother disappeared when he was four. I didn't handle it well, so my parents put me in therapy but it only helped so much. And my family fell apart because of it. I had to leave because being there I was just making things worse,” Rachel said.

The worry lines stretching out from his eyes deepened when he said, “I'm sorry.”

“Me too.”

“Was he ever found?”

“No.” She was thankful when his fingers slipped from her hand.

When the show ended a few minutes later, he nudged her shoulder and said, “We can cut in between these two houses and come out across from Catch's.”

Ashe led her through the narrow side yard and around the enclosed garden that offered more weeds than flowers. He picked one of the moon flowers that stretched over the fence. Its long petals were soft and pale in the moonlight. Rachel's fingers brushed his when he pressed it into her hand. A jolt from the brief contact buzzed through her.

She followed him through a wall of oleander twice as tall as he was and out onto Catch's street. It was quiet with most of the neighborhood still downtown. The light on the front porch spilled into the yard. Rachel tiptoed across the asphalt that was still warm from hours of being tortured by the sun. “You don't have to walk me all the way up. I think I can take it from here,” she said.

He reached the front gate first and opened it for her. He followed her up the walk and onto the porch. Leaning down, he cupped her face in his hands, his fingers following a line of freckles on her left cheek. “If I didn't walk you to the door, I wouldn't get to do this,” he said and pressed his lips to hers.

The kiss started light, soft. But after a few seconds he took it deeper, pinning her to the door and coaxing her mouth open. He tasted like hops and sun-ripened plums. Her hands gripped the front of his shirt as she stretched onto her toes to get a little closer. He traced his thumbs along her jaw and down her neck.

She sighed against his lips.

Pulling back, Ashe rested his forehead against hers, giving them both time to catch their breath.

“That was—” he started.

“Not fair,” she finished for him, her voice shaking. She couldn't allow things to go anywhere between them. It didn't matter if the kiss was due to the wish or because somehow he actually liked her. If she let things progress, she'd have to tell him all the things she was keeping from him. Or lie.

She released his shirt and inched back so their bodies were no longer molded to each other.

His shirt was wrinkled and damp where her hands had been. He tugged at the clinging fabric. “Maybe not. But I think we both needed that.”

“What I need and what I want are completely different,” Rachel said.

“So, you're trying to tell me you don't want me to kiss you again?”

Rachel pressed her lips together, the taste of him lingering. “I didn't say that,” she said. His amused eyes challenged her. Rachel ducked her head, her hair falling between them.

Ashe splayed a hand on the doorjamb near her head but didn't touch her. “You know as well as I do that it was going to happen sooner or later. Now it's out of the way.”

She didn't have to look up to know he was giving her the self-assured half smile that made her skin tingle. His keys rattled when he fished them out of his pocket. He reached around her and unlocked the door. Her hand slipped on the knob as he leaned in again. She held her breath and shivered when his mouth hovered next to her ear.

“But I'm thinking we should do it again,” he said. He opened the door and straightened, letting his eyes roam over her as she stepped inside the house. “Good night, Rachel.”

“Good night, Ashe.” She pulled the door closed behind her, refusing to let her happiness be anything more than a momentary thing. No matter how much she might want to believe that Ashe could fall for her—that she could fall for him right back—and have it all be easy, normal. If Lola was threatening to expose her before, Rachel could only image what lengths she would go to if she knew Ashe had kissed her.

 

17

The lightning flashed across the small swatch of steely sky she could see from her room. Rachel counted to five before the clap of thunder rattled the window. She'd been staring at it for the better part of an hour. Her mind jumped between replaying her confrontation with Lola to her kiss with Ashe and back again. Both situations made the room feel so stuffy she was having a hard time catching her breath. And both left her just as confused as to what to do about them.

So she started making deals with herself.

If Ashe comes over for breakfast, I'll tell him I just want to be friends.
Her heartbeat stuttered at the thought.

If it thunders again before the rain starts, I don't have to tell Mary Beth about Lola. I don't have to accuse her of telling Lola all of my secrets.
She waited, her whole body tensed as the storm slowly rolled on outside. The thick clouds stagnated, refusing to be bullied by the wind.

Her sweaty fingers left streaks on the phone screen as she opened and closed her favorites list again. Mary Beth's picture flashed on screen, reminding her how much she missed her best friend. Just because she called Mary Beth didn't mean she had to say anything she didn't want to. She hit Call before she could chicken out.

“Hey,” Mary Beth said when she picked up.

“Hey yourself,” Rachel said. “Sorry for calling so early.”

“Lucky for you I was already awake. Everything okay?”

Rachel sank back into the covers. Hearing Mary Beth's voice intensified the tension knotting in her shoulders.
No, I'm not okay,
she thought.
I had a run-in with your completely immoral sister. She knows who I am, knows what I can do. She tried to blackmail me into helping her get Ashe back. Oh, and Ashe kissed me last night. Which may or may not mean something.
Instead she said nothing. She tugged the sheet up and hugged it to her, closing her eyes against the obstinate storm.

“Staying silent is not the way to convince me that you're okay.”

“I'm fine,” Rachel said after a few more seconds.