Now I purposely drop the bucket to the floor. Water sloshes over the side as I rush forward, pushing Henry to the back wall.
“Let’s get three things straight.” I jab my finger against his chest. “First, if I tell you this, you have to swear on your life that you’ll never whisper a word to anyone. Ever. And I mean ever, Henry. This is serious. I could get in trouble. Real trouble. It’d hurt me and my mom and—”
“I swear.” Henry looks me in the eye and presses his hand on top of mine, flattening my palm against his heart. “I swear on Lisa’s life.”
I swallow hard past the lump in my throat and nod slowly. “Okay, then.” I place my hands on my hips, trying to stop their trembling, and reinstate my authoritative voice. “Second, you do as I say and don’t challenge me. Don’t do anything that could get me into trouble.”
More trouble.
Henry crosses his heart. “And third?”
Third … there’s only one thing left.
Am I really going to do this? Yes, I have to. There’s no denying what he saw. But he thinks I’m a witch. Would it be less dangerous to leave him thinking that?
Maybe, and maybe not. That’s a risk I can’t calculate. What I can calculate is how much lighter the idea of him knowing already makes me feel. Not to mention that this might be my one and only chance to stick it to the Afrit.
With a sly smile, I say, “Third, you don’t ever—and I mean ever—call me a cheesy witch again.”
“But I—”
“Because I’m no witch, Henry.” The words I’m about to say I have never before said in the presence of a human. I’m not sure I’ve ever said them out loud at all. Why would I? Somehow, it feels time. “I’m a Jinn.”
Henry’s enthusiastic nod follows his widening eyes. He knows what being a Jinn means. Henry knows I’m a genie.
16
I’ve kept Henry with me all morning. I don’t know what else to do with him. Together, we serve orange juice and doughnuts, and alone, I give myself whiplash with the way I keep twisting my neck around, half expecting the Afrit police to come for me and trade in my silver bangle for stainless steel handcuffs.
But they don’t. At least they haven’t yet.
“Stop that,” I say, ducking the apple Henry beams at my head.
The apple thuds against the floorboards and rolls to the back corner where it joins the four other bruised Granny Smiths he’s lobbed at me. He’s trying to get me to use my powers again.
Two things I didn’t count on when I made the decision not to leave Ranger Teddy in a bind and to stick it out for the rest of my shift with Henry glued to my side: one, his insatiable curiosity, and two, his weakness for Azra au laits (a quarter coffee, three-quarters milk, and a scoop of vanilla ice cream). He’s had four since we’ve been cooped up in here. Four.
“That’s it.” Henry darts to the corner of the shack. “There better not be a hole in your conjured bucket, dear Azra.”
So I admitted I can conjure things. After what Henry saw with Zoe, that revelation seemed minor. Besides, he tricked me. He definitely has a future as a lawyer.
His hand seizes his zipper.
“No!” I cry.
“Unless you’re going to conjure me a toilet…”
A lawyer or a blackmailer. “Fine. Go. But straight there and back.” I nod to the wooden bathhouse directly across from us. “And don’t talk to anyone.”
“Your wish is my command.” Dimples carve into Henry’s cheeks as he bolts for the door.
That’s it. I can’t stifle my smile anymore. It’s not my fault. His excitement is infectious, and I’m a Jinn. I absorb energy.
I groan. What’s wrong with me? Forget about the Afrit, my model Jinn mother is going to disown me. I flop my stomach across the metal stool and hang upside down, feeling the weight of the blood rushing to my head.
Like dueling consciences, Henry’s gate key purrs in one pocket and my cell phone nags in the other. I know what I’m supposed to do. What I said I’d do. What I promised my mother I’d do if something bad happened. (And for the record, her little if-when gaffe totally jinxed me.)
Slumping farther over the stool, every last drop of blood seems to pool in my head. But no matter how heavy it gets, it doesn’t outweigh the lightness I feel everywhere else.
The Afrit haven’t come for me. Which I have to assume means they don’t know. If Henry stays quiet, if I stay quiet, they might never know.
No, Azra. This is dangerous. You know this is dangerous. I shake my head. I should … I will … I am … I am going to confess to my mother. I have until the end of my shift to work up the nerve.
If only my powers included the ability to manipulate time.
“Green tea soy latte.” A hand slaps the wood counter. “And make it snappy.”
I pop up and smack my head against the shelf behind me. “Sorry, we don’t have—” My dizzy eyes focus on the customer in front of me.
Yasmin.
What is she doing here?
She raps her talisman-wearing knuckles against the counter. “I’m waiting. Or do I have to make one myself?”
A mother and daughter get in line behind Yasmin. She turns and tips her black, cowboy-style beach hat at them. “This may take a while.”
Then she starts whistling. A theme song. The theme song to that silly old TV show that just happens to have a version of the word “genie” in the title. Has Yasmin always been this brazen or has something changed in the past year she’s been a Jinn?
Her whistling gets louder. I don’t need this today. I send her daggers with my eyes before yanking a cup from the stack. I’ve never had green tea or soy milk. But I’ve had green beans and tofu.
I conjure a steaming cup of the disgusting concoction and place it on the counter in front of her. “Here you go, Miss.”