Wish Apon A Star

Nicole - My Friends Are Crazy

Time went too quickly. I knew we'd have to go back someday, but I didn't want to. I'd rather have stayed there: teaming up with Clara against Leo in snowball fights, walking down to the park near their house and laughing while Leo treated to throw Clara into the frozen pond, eating with them at the table while they laughed almost the entire time, and even when they got too loud, their mom just smiled at them. I liked how there was no yelling here, no anger, and how they seemed genuinely happy.

"Nicole?" Leo called, stepping inside. Tiny chunks of ice fell from his jacket and boots to the ground. I was on the floor of the living room, playing a board game (Lightspeed–I'd never heard of it before now) with Clara. She was incredibly competitive, and I was probably going to just let her win. "A letter came from Annabelle for you."

He walked into the living room to hand it to me, while Clara remained focused on the board. I opened it, revealing several pages of Annabelle's loopy, perfect penmanship. How she had time to write all this, I would never know. I grinned. "It's a three-page essay on how much she hates Leila. Did James mention that?"

"He said they made some sort of deal with her. He also said we should start heading back. And..." Leo rubbed his eyes. "He bought the inn."

"He what?"

"Your turn," Clara told me. I scanned the board and moved one of my pieces, barely paying attention. Apparently, leaving James and Annabelle with most of the money had definitely been a mistake, as they had immediately decided to spend it. I knew Annabelle would try to pretend like she had nothing to do with it when we got back, but I doubted she had tried to stop him, either.

"I know. I probably should have taken most of it back here." He dropped down beside me, pulling me closer to him.

"Ugh. You're freezing cold and wet," I told him, squirming away. "And also right. How much did they get it for?"

"He just said they still had most of it, and really didn't spend all that much." Leo ignored me and hugged me tighter to him and his freezing jacket. "Deal with it." He rested his chin on the top of my head. "I love you."

"Disgusting," Clara informed him, moving one of her pieces. She stopped to contemplate each turn for about five minutes. "Your turn, Nicole."

"Am I invited?" Leo asked.

"No," Clara said. "Go away."

"You're so mean to me," he said. "Nicole's not mean to me. She'd let me play."

"Tell him you wouldn't," Clara whispered loudly.

"I wouldn't," I said.

"Traitor," he mumbled into my hair. "I still love you."

"Are you sure?" I was only half-kidding.

"Positive," he said, his voice serious.

Clara pretended to gag herself. "You're disgusting. And also slowing down the game. I'm trying to win here."

"The game is going slowly because you take twenty years on each turn," Leo said, then added, "I bet ten julits you'll lose."

"You're on." She grinned.

"How about no," I protested. "I'm not going to win. I barely even know how to play."

"Dinner's ready!" Mrs. Dayal called over to us. "Put that game up on a shelf or something, Clara, or someone is going to trip over it. And don't bet!"

Clara reluctantly put up the board and whispered, "After dinner, then. And the bet's still on."

"I can hear you!"