Wish I May, Wish I Might

Chapter 12

"I'm sorry, what?" I said, trying to wipe the remaining cocoa from my face with the most dignity possible.

"I mean, only if you want to. Come with me," Annabelle said quickly. "I'm not trying to kidnap you or anything."

"But we hardly know each other," I said, realizing the two of us had shared our deepest, darkest secrets and also slept in the same room together after meeting only a few hours earlier. Is this what it felt like when college roommates moved in? I figured I'd never find out. You know, since my dream school rescinded my acceptance and also I was a murder suspect that had run away before the trial.

"I know you're running from the police, and Chicago is a great place to be found."

"That's blackmail," I grumbled.

"What do you need to know about me?" Annabelle asked.

"Beyond the obvious thing that you're not telling me about because I clearly haven't earned your trust yet?"

"Yeah, beyond that."

I thought for a second. "What's your last name?"

"Stafford. What's yours?"

"Moore. What's the name of your dad's restaurant?"

"Aunt Sue's Bake Shop," Annabelle said.

"Who's Aunt Sue?" I asked.

"His great aun- why are you asking me all of this?"

I shrugged. "I just want to get to know you. What's your favorite color?"

"Blue. What's yours?"

"Black."

"Seriously?" she said.

"Black is always in fashion."

Annabelle rolled her eyes. "Can I ask you a question now?"

"Technically, you just did."

I dodged the crumpled napkin she threw at me.

"Where'd you get that black eye?" Annabelle asked.

I gingerly touched the bruise on my face. "I got into a fight. A guy was making fun of a homeless man, and I hate people like that. He threw the first punch, I promise."

She gave me a hesitant smile.

"What is it?" I asked.

Annabelle shook her head. "Nothing. You're cool, Carter."

"You're not so bad yourself."

My new friend looked genuinely touched by the compliment. I thought about everything that we had just discussed. I guess I hadn't really thought anything through when I left but was ridiculous to believe that I could stay anywhere in the Midwest. I had proven my guilt in the murder case by running away. Now every cop in the region would have my face on their computer screen. My options were to either run and survive, try to wish my way out of this and face the consequences, or let myself be caught and probably have a worse punishment than I would have before.

"What kind of car do you prefer?" I asked.

"I'm not much of a car person," said Annabelle. "But if I had to choose a car to take, I'd pick a compact one."

"What color?"

"Green."

"A white pickup truck, it is, then," I said, snapping my fingers to indicate a wish. "Let's go get some scorpions in our shoes."

It turns out that Annabelle was also disguising herself, but she was doing it by distorting her face using wishes.

"I wasn't willing to try that," I said as we walked out the door and I made a wish to create our new truck behind the back of a building. "I was worried I wouldn't get my face back."