Becoming Jinn

My mother shrugs, but seems unnerved. “Apparently so.”

 

 

I lay my forearm over the table and line up my wrist with the bangle. It hops up, encircles my wrist, and snaps shut. The hinge seals itself.

 

Henry claps his hands. “That was awesome.”

 

Eyes fixed on my wrist, my mother has still not said a word.

 

“Mom? What’s wrong?”

 

She shrugs again. “Nothing, I guess. It’s just odd. I’ve never seen it happen. I heard about it from Nadia, but you know how she exaggerates. There’s usually a formal application process to have a bronze bangle removed. And it takes time, months, years even. It’s quite rare. You must have impressed them, Azra.”

 

She says this with sadness, and I know why. Impressing my paternal grandparents isn’t something either of us wants me doing. The question is, what do they know? What are they impressed by? My use of spells, my granting Nate a wish properly, or my ability to use magic while wearing the bronze bangle? After what I read last night, I’m certain they wouldn’t be rewarding me if it were the last one. They’d … come for me. But since they haven’t, the secret about me being an evolutionary anomaly seems safe—for now.

 

Henry moves closer and touches the bangle. I wince slightly, but he doesn’t notice.

 

“That’s great,” he says. “Now you’ll be able to visit me.” He gives my mother a sheepish grin. “That is, with your permission, Mrs. Nadira.”

 

“Visit?” I say, confused. I then realize what he means. “So New Hampshire’s happening?”

 

Henry rounds his shoulders. “Seems like it. It sucks, but it sucked worse yesterday. Do you know how many connections it takes to get from there to here on a bus?”

 

The hug from Henry and the fact that he’s already researched bus routes cannot take away the pit in my stomach. I feel like I’m waiting for that Jinn trick to kick in.

 

Maybe it already has. Maybe being an Afrit has its perks.

 

*

 

It’s been three days since the accident. Three days since I’ve seen Nate but two nights that we’ve spent together. On the phone. On this third day, I’m standing in a newly purchased bra and underwear (not a thong), ripping clothes off hangers. Though full of black, nothing in my closet seems appropriate for a funeral.

 

It’s been two days since I lowered my wrist into the silver bangle that I don’t need. Don’t need because apparently the inhibitor injection I received was a lemon. Or maybe because my father is an Afrit, his strong powers supersede or counter the effects. Doesn’t matter. With or without a bangle, I’m not using magic unless I absolutely have to. I don’t want to give my father’s family any more opportunities to discover my secret. Plus, if I don’t use magic, I figure I’ll be less likely to become one of them.

 

Maybe that’s not really a danger considering my bloodline is muddled. I’m half Jinn, half Afrit. A hybrid. Still, I’m not taking any chances.

 

It’s been one day since I made the decision to keep all the questions I have about the rebellion, about my mother’s diary, about my father to myself. For now, the answers I have—about my mother, who’d go to any lengths to protect me, and about my father, who’d risk his own life to ensure my safety—are enough. Always, but not forever. Enough for now, at least.

 

Because right now I have higher priorities: Nate, Laila, Henry, and Yasmin. Yes, Yasmin. She must feel utterly alone without Raina. She doesn’t have any human friends. She’s clearly threatened by me and my role in our Zar, and the rest of our sisters don’t know the truth about her mother. Ironic as it is, that the two of us know means we share a secret all our own. I might be the only one who can help her through this.

 

I give up on my closet and check my e-mail for the millionth time. The only new message is from Farrah, whose string of exclamation points follows Mina’s winky smiley face, the latest in the thread started by Hana congratulating me on getting my silver bangle back. Nothing from Laila. Even though, for the past three days, I’ve been sending photos of the silver tinsel to her. Levitating in front of the framed picture of me, her, and Jenny, in my hair, dangling from my ear, around my pinky toe, between my front teeth, the locales keep getting weirder. Still, not a single response.

 

Last night, I finally got up the nerve to app to her house to deliver Mr. Gemp. I left it outside the back door, the photo of all six of us rolled inside along with another from the night of our initiation. Not wanting to pressure her, I waited, even apping in and out a few times, hoping she’d sense me and come out on her own. Too soon, I guess. That’s okay. I’m pretty sure one trait I’ve inherited from the Afrit is persistence.

 

As I dash across the hall to find something in my mother’s closet to wear to the funeral, I’m caught by my, at least currently, third priority.

 

“Henry!” I cover myself with my hands as I fly into my mother’s bedroom. I poke my head out from behind the door. “Don’t you knock?”

 

“I did. Your mother let me in.” He grins. “Thank you, Mom.”

 

It’s the first time I’ve laughed in days. It feels good and bad, right and wrong, all at the same time.

 

“I’m going to miss you,” I say suddenly.

 

Summer’s coming to an end. The school year will be starting soon. For the first time in years, it was something I was looking forward to. I’d be starting off with a best friend and a boyfriend. Now, the best friend will be gone, and the boyfriend, if that’s what Nate will even become anymore, will be dealing with a tragic loss, afraid that his mother’s injures might make that two.

 

“Maybe it’s for the best,” Henry says. “You’ll be there for Nate and not have to worry about me.”

 

“No, it’s not for the best. How could you even think that?”

 

Henry’s jaw drops as I say this, and I realize his words weren’t spoken out loud. I read his mind without knowing I was doing so.

 

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