Only now that I have all that, I feel ashamed for having wanted it.
The candles sizzle like sparklers as Tinsley presses near. “Make a wish, Nick,” she says. “Sometimes wishes come true!”
My gaze locks on hers, caught by her words. This is pretty much how I found myself here.
Maybe it was only a cupcake instead of an actual cake.
And instead of thirteen stunt candles, there was only one red-and-green one.
But the ritual is the same.
There’s power in a wish, Plum said. Don’t waste it on the mundane.
Tinsley grasps my hand, her grip a little too forced, the squared edges of her perfectly manicured nails digging into my palm. “You’re going to burn down the house if you don’t blow those out! Hurry! Make a wish, Nick—and make it a good one!”
“Make a wish!” Dougall calls.
“Make a wish, Nicky!” my fake mom says.
“What’s the matter, Nick? Your life so great you’ve got nothing left to wish for?” Ezer taunts from the sidelines.
I stare at the candles.
What if this is my way out—like a glamorous bookend to my earlier experience?
What if this is the one thing that can turn it all around?
What if that ticket doesn’t even matter?
What if it really is this easy?
I take one last look at Ezer, close my eyes, and make my wish, emptying my lungs of every last ounce of air I have in me.
3 Hours, 3 Minutes, and 33 Seconds till Christmas
REINDEER GAMES
Ever hear the saying lightning never strikes twice?
Turns out it’s true.
The second I blow out the candles and open my eyes, it’s clear that not a single thing has changed.
The cameras are still rolling. Tinsley is still standing beside me, her voice a little nervous and hitched. “Try not to look so disappointed, Nick! What did you wish for—to be teleported to a beach in Hawaii?”
I shoot a quick glance at Ezer before returning to Tinsley. Smiling brightly for the camera, I slide my arm around her, and in my most charming Nick Dashaway voice, say, “Why would I want to be anywhere but right here beside you?”
Her eyes meet mine, and though her smile is tight like she suspects something’s up, she’s professional enough to make little squealing sounds as she springs onto her toes and kisses my cheek.
I do my best to go along. As the only one in the room who didn’t get the handout, I have no idea what’s to come. Still, if there’s one thing I know about TV, it’s that the biggest reveals are always saved for the season finale, where they love to throw in a cliffhanger. And judging by the way Ezer’s acting, I’ve no doubt he’s got something planned.
But I have something planned too.
I continue to go through the motions. Even when we film the scene where Dougall and I are messing around, singing “Jingle Bells” to the tune of “Twelve Days,” and I’m reminded of a similar scene back in Greentree when the real Dougall walked in on me as I was rehearsing in my bedroom, and how instead of making fun of me he just looked at me and said, “I still think you’re crazy for wanting to get up in front of the entire school and sing, but I gotta admit, you sound almost good”—even though I know this Dougall would never support me like that, that he’s my friend only because of the girls and the gifts and the way our friendship benefits him—I still keep my cool.
I keep playing along for the cameras like everything’s normal until Plum enters the room and I no longer have to.
I glare at Ezer, ready to call him out for stealing the ticket and making Tinsley hide it, when I realize that Plum didn’t arrive on her own. One of Ezer’s bodyguards has dragged her in by the arm.
“Found her up in Tinsley’s room, going through her stuff,” he says.
And just like that, my plan falls apart.
“Is this true?” Ezer approaches Plum, but to her credit she doesn’t say a word. Doesn’t even implicate me by looking my way.
“Caught her with her hand right inside Tinsley’s purse. How do you want to handle it?” The security guy tightens his grip on Plum’s arm like he’s hoping Ezer will command him to haul her off to prison or worse.
Ezer rubs a hand over his chin and studies Plum. “Why would you do that?” He acts as though the question is for her until he turns and his gaze levels on me.
He knows.
He knows I put her up to it.
Since he thwarted my original plan to make a run for the trolley stop, I was forced to act so quickly I didn’t have time to brainstorm a backup plan in case this one failed.
He knows this is the only card in my deck. Now he’s daring me to admit it.
“She did it because I asked her to,” I say. “I sent her a text asking her to go through Tinsley’s purse and get something Tinsley took from me.”
Tinsley gasps. Like, audibly gasps. And from the sound of it, this time she’s not acting.
“And why would you do that?” Ezer’s expression shifts so quickly it’s hard to keep track, but one thing’s for sure: he’s offering a challenge I have no choice but to meet.