As You Wish by Jackson Pearce Page A

chest. Jinn is sitting in the arm chair, legs swung up over the side and arms folded.
    â€œYou stayed,” I say, trying to cover my surprise.
    â€œYou abuse alarm clocks,” he responds.
    â€œSomething like that,” I answer, and try to smooth the tangled nest that is my hair. “Decided the park would be fine by itself for a night?” I kick my legs over the side of the bed—no point in trying to fall back asleep now.
    â€œTo be honest,” Jinn says as I step into the bathroom and let the shower water heat up, “I forgot to leave. I was just watching stars and then…it was morning.”
    â€œThe exciting life of a magical creature,” I tease. Jinn rolls his eyes.
    I shower quickly and dress in the bathroom; when I emerge, Jinn is flipping through old copies of Seventeen with a look of mild disgust.
    â€œSo, you’re going to a movie with Aaron tonight? I imagine that means more park time for me?” Jinn asks, shutting the magazine and pushing it away.
    â€œIt’s only a few hours,” I explain. “We’re not even going to dinner, just to see some horror movie or something.”
    â€œBut you hate horror movies,” Jinn replies. He says it in a matter-of-fact way that tells me he simply read it in my eyes—the wish not to see movie murders.
    â€œI don’t hate horror movies. I just…don’t watch them,” I say, opening and slamming drawers in an attempt to find a hairbrush.
    â€œWhy is he taking you to see a horror movie when you hate horror movies?” Jinn asks, studying my eyes and, I’m sure, reading my distaste for gore. I have to admit that I’ve sort of gotten used to him reading me. It’s even nice, sometimes, to be able to explain everything with just a look. Jinn rises and grabs my hairbrush from under a stack of shirts, then hands it to me. I blush and nod in appreciation before I respond.
    â€œIt’s not about the movie, it’s about doing something together. That’s the point of dates, you know, dark theaters and cuddling or whatever.”
    â€œRight,” Jinn says, cringing. “Sounds…great. Really.”
    I laugh. “It’s nice to feel attractive and…um…appreciated,” I say, trying to be tactful.
    Jinn grimaces. “Don’t tell me about it,” he says as I head downstairs. “I guess I’ll see you after then?”
    â€œYes. I mean, unless you had big plans for the park?” I’m only half teasing; the idea of Jinn just waiting around for meto call him is a little uncomfortable, though I have to admit it’s pleasant knowing he’ll always be there when I want him to. He studies me for a moment, reading the concern in my eyes.
    â€œNo,” he says, smiling. “No plans—and it’s my job to be here when you need me, you know. Don’t worry about it.”
    Â 
    Jinn was right. I hate horror movies.
    Even the poster I’m staring at freaks me out a little. I mean, how many of these Saw movies do they have to make before people get sick of watching teenage girls be tortured? I shiver even though it’s not cold, and look longingly at a poster for a generic Meg Ryan comedy.
    â€œI’ve got the tickets, baby,” Aaron says from behind me. I tear my eyes away from the poster to see him holding two orange tickets and motioning to the theater door. Aaron wraps an arm around me and tugs me close to him as we enter, heading straight to theater twelve without stopping for snacks. It’s probably for the better anyhow, since I’m not sure I could eat Twizzlers while someone’s eyeball is melting on screen.
    â€œI really think you’ll like this,” Aaron says as we find aspot toward the back of the theater. “I mean, I don’t think you’ll be able to walk away from this and say you still hate horror movies.”
    â€œI doubt that,” I mumble nervously. I can feel my cheeks