A lot of couples fight. They say terrible things to each other, rant, rave, break up a dozen times a year.
Not Rob and me. We always just…agreed. We thought the same about all the important things, and we shrugged off the myriad tiny details that didn't matter.
And so, I had no idea how to respond to his breaking up with me, no clue what to say. My mind was reeling as I collapsed onto the couch in my apartment. I pinched my thumb and forefinger together and said, "Jaze!" I poured all of my anger and fear and shame into the single syllable.
Immediately, colored motes swarmed in front of me. Copper swirled around silver; gold dove beneath bronze. I caught my breath at the intricate dance, and when I exhaled, I found myself facing a football player.
Not a ballerina. A linebacker, complete with shoulder pads and helmet. And a football. Oh, and he was huge.
The only familiar thing about the guy was the tattoo that glinted on his wrist as he drawled, "No need to shout."
"Um, Jaze?" I asked.
"You expectin' somebody else?" He settled his fists against his hips and looked around, as if I might actually have some other brass lamp lurking in my apartment.
"No, it's just…" I trailed off, wondering what I should say.
"I told you I was gonna check out what's happenin' in town." He sounded exasperated, as if he were talking to a stubborn child.
"But as a football player?"
"You got somethin' against football players? What, you think we're all stupid or somethin'?"
"No, it's just…" I couldn't figure out where he'd been, dressed like that. But what did it matter? What did I care, what my genie looked like? So long as he could make things right. "Jaze, I need to take back my wish."
He snorted in amusement. "Yeah, right."
"Come on! It's only been, what, four hours? Five, tops?"
He stared at me, narrowing his eyes as if he were weighing the possibility of throwing me downfield. "Haven't you read any fairy tales, girl? You don't get a do-over on wishes."
"But everything happened so fast, back at the restaurant. You took me by surprise! I didn't have time to think things through!"
He sighed in obvious disgust. "I've got a schedule to keep, girl. Goals to meet." He produced a scrap of paper from thin air, waving it in front of my face so vigorously that I could barely make out the tangle of arrows and Xs and Os. "There's a plan for me, y'know? A pattern."
I'd never understood football. Rob didn't watch the game. It was one reason that we got along so well. Had gotten along so well. "Please?" I begged, horrified to feel tears welling up.
Another one of those deadly stares. Then, through lips as tight as his uniform pants, Jaze announced, "Three. You have three wishes left. Don't make any more stupid mistakes."
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