A Wish Unwanted - Part 15 free porn video

A Wish Unwanted - Part 15 by Limbo's Mistress We stepped back out into the hall, Geoff pulling the door closed behind us. "Wow," he said, looking straight ahead. "That was, uh, eye-opening." I felt a rush of heat appear on my cheeks. The whole incident seemed surreal. I mean, the most violent Sam had ever gotten was the time he smacked Greg Dowdy in the back of the head with a Monster Manual for trying to meta-game a dungeon he's spent the better part of a week designing. "I'll say," Tabitha chimed in. Where Geoff sounded stunned and confused, the blonde cheerleader sounded amused. "I was right, Davenport. Your balls really did get bigger." I saw Geoff glance over at us out of the corner of my periphery, and I realized that he was probably lost about everything the rest of us knew and just took for granted. However, the hallway was quickly filling up with students. Which meant this wasn't the best time for a heart to heart confessional. "Any chance either of you can skip sixth period? I think we should all meet and share what we know and what we've learned." "I can," Geoff said. "I have independent study that period." "If your schedule didn't change with your reality," I explained. He shrugged. "It hasn't so far. Classes, teachers, and my locker are all the same. Speaking of lockers, should I bring it with me?" Tabitha arched a brow. "Your locker?" I thought I might have to smack her, too. Lucky for her, I didn't have my gaming guide on me. "Uh, the stone?" Geoff asked. I nodded. "Yes, please." He nodded. "Where should we meet?" Tabitha sighed. "The Clubhouse." I don't know who was the more shocked, Geoff or me. "The Clubhouse?" I asked, tilting my head to stare at her. She sighed again. "It's the most private location on the whole damned campus. No one but Raiderettes ever go in there. Which means it'll be the best place for us to talk openly without being overheard or interrupted." I nodded as I both conceded her point and was amazed that she actually had a good idea for once. Perhaps she wasn't as vapid as I'd once thought. "I have to admit," Geoff said, "as serious as this all is, I'm kind of excited. To get a peek into the Elites' Fortress of Solitude. You wouldn't believe the rumors that people spread about that room and what goes on in there." I smirked, shaking my head. "It's a lot tamer than the stories make it out to be." By this time, the throngs moving past us had doubled, bringing with them the expected chorus of greetings and shout-outs that I was quickly growing tired of. If I had to be Benson High's center of attention for the next eight months, I was going to lose my marbles. Tabitha seemed just as annoyed by the attention, though for a different reason. Her nose crinkled in disgust and she shook her head. "I'm out, dorks. See you at the Clubhouse after next." Then she turned around and sauntered off without so much as a backward glance. "What stick got shoved up her butt?" Geoff murmured. "My wish knocked her a few pegs down the social status ladder," I commented as I waved to a pair of girls who both wanted to tell me just how much they loved my outfit. "All the attention directed at me only reminds her of what she lost." "I think I can understand that." Then I turned to look up at him. "That's what I meant when I said wishes effect everyone. Sometimes detrimentally." He nodded again, looked away, then back to me. "What are we going to do. About us, I mean?" "Us?" I asked, arching a brow. Geoff shrugged. "Don't get me wrong. I know what you're talking about. I also know what my use of the stone has done. To you, particularly. It's just that they ..." He gestured at the people walking past us. I didn't need to turn around to look. I saw exactly what he was trying to convey. "They all remember Geoff Barnes and Pee-Jay Davenport being a couple." "Yeah. I mean, I don't want to make any assumptions. Or take advantage of a status I didn't actually earn. It's just that ... I really like you." "It's the magic," I said, trying to keep my voice from sliding into a hurting tone. "Everyone wants me, Geoff. But only because of my big, fat mouth. If not for the stone, no one would want me. Trust me on that." "You never know," he said softly. "Perhaps the real you isn't as bad as you might think. Besides, I'm immune to the effects now, remember?" I glanced up at him. "So, you're saying you don't want me anymore?" His eyes widened and a sudden coughing fit overcame him for a few seconds. Then he recovered and shook his head. "No. That's not it at all. I might not be, uh, as obsessed as I was this morning. You know, before my wish. However, that doesn't change the fact that you are, to put it mildly, gorgeous. There isn't a straight guy alive who wouldn't desire to be your lover." My blush returned and I shrugged my shoulders. "Thank you, Geoff." He put his hand on my shoulder. "How about this? Let's just try being friends. We can tell everyone that we ... felt we were getting too serious, too fast. So we're stepping back a bit. Reevaluating things." I nodded. "That sounds pretty good, actually. Sounds like something you might have used before." Now it was his turn to blush. "It's a lot nicer than simply dumping someone publicly. Better for everyone all around." "Agreed," I said. Then I pointed down the hallway. "I need to get going. Meet me at the rear of the sports complex right before sixth." He nodded, and I turned around and walked down the hallway toward my next class. British Literature. Despite the fact that my window for not being tardy was closing quickly, I had to force myself to move at any sort of decent pace. I simply did not want to go. Less than a week ago, I would have turned my nose up at the class itself. As far as Sam was concerned, the only British authors worth reading were C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien. Even Dickens was a bit of a bore. However, my opinion of the subject had been changed. By Lee. Not just because he was in the class, but because of the way talking about the authors and their works seemed to light up his face. I would have said it was as much his passion as playing football. Now, the thought of sitting there, listening to Mr. Eastman talking about the things that used to bring him joy, was heart-aching. My pain was exacerbated when I stepped into the class and saw he wasn't there. The seat normally occupied by the boy who'd made me understand what love could really be was empty. Did he not exist anymore? That seemed counterproductive to Tracy's theory that the stone made the minimal amount of changes required to fulfill a wish. It was a more likely scenario that Lee Taylor, who apparently no longer played football, had a different class for fifth period now. Probably with some other girls who all thought he was special. Oh, god. What if he had a different girlfriend? I mean, the wish gave me a new boyfriend, didn't it? My heart seized, causing me to nearly collide with a lanky boy with bright red hair. "Hey, Pee-Jay," he said. "Sorry about that." Of course he was sorry. Because, heaven forbid, THE Pee-Jay be the one who bumped into him. Perish the thought. I fought off my tears' attempt to appear. I knew I couldn't hold out forever, but I was not going to cry at school. My threat to Peter might have been mostly for effect, to strike the fear of a butt-load of beatings into his twisted mind. However, I knew that I hadn't been completely bluffing. A crying Pee-Jay would certainly be noticed. By everyone. "It's okay, Michael," I said to the boy, flashing him my brightest smile. "Totally my fault. Wasn't watching where I was going." Before the boy could refute my apology, I rushed past him and sat down in the seat located behind the hauntingly empty chair. The tardy bell rang, and Mr. Eastman stood up from his desk. Straightening his tie, he looked out across the room. "Good afternoon, class," he said. "Today we will be finishing up with Coleridge's opus. As previously pointed out by Mr. Franklin," he gestured at the redhead I'd bowled into earlier, "the main message presented in the poem is that grievous sins can only be assuaged though the penance of humility and great suffering ..." "I suffered reading the thing," mumbled a girl three seats ahead of me. The rest of the class tittered, with even Mr. Eastman grinning. Unfortunately, I couldn't summon the mirth to join in with their levity. "Yes, Miss Black," the teacher continued. "I'm sure many of your fellow classmates feel the same way. However, in regards to the work itself, it is not just physical or mental suffering the Mariner has to endure before his sins are wiped clean. There is also the spiritual suffering. Can anyone give me an example of what I mean?" One boy raised his hand. "The Mariner has to see his dead shipmates lying around him. I mean, he is the reason they're all dead, and he has to be reminded of that every time he looks at them." "Exactly. They are constant reminders that it was his sins that, indirectly, led to their lives ending." Georgina Black raised her hand. "That's part of what I didn't get. He made just a mistake, right? He only killed the albatross because he thought it was a bad bird. Why should he and all the rest be punished for a single mistake?" Mr. Eastman smiled. "It wasn't just a mistake, Miss Black. The Mariner killed the bird because it annoyed him. That was the sin of hate. However, when the fog cleared right after the Mariner's deed, the crew immediately agreed with what he'd done. They made themselves guilty by association." His eyes roamed across the faces before him. "Would any care to remind us of the Mariner's other sin for which he had to serve penance?" "Pride," said a familiar voice that caused me to jerk in my seat and pop upright from where I'd been slouching. Lee walked into the room, stopping to hand Mr. Eastman a folded slip of paper. The teacher took it, gave it a quick examination, then nodded to the boy next to him. Lee turned and made his way toward me, toward the empty seat I'd spent the past ten minute staring at. He looked mostly the same as he had the previous evening. His dirty blonde hair was a little longer in the back than before, and was styled in that messy way that only some guy could pull off naturally. He was smaller than his football player persona, though only by as much as could be expected from someone who didn't constantly pump iron to maintain a physique designed to take gridiron hits. The build was closer to something you might see on a swimmer, actually. His blue eyes were the same as those I'd enjoyed gazing into, though now they were tucked away behind a pair of round, wire-framed glasses. It took me a second of confusion as to why the magic would have bothered to alter Lee's eyesight, then I remembered him commenting on his contacts during the drive home on Monday. Guess non-athlete Lee preferred the lenses, and, honestly, so did I. It wasn't that they made him look smarter. I mean, Football Lee had been plenty smart. What they did, however, was make him look 'studious'. One glance, and I knew the boy walking my way was the kind of person to be perfectly at home in a library or museum. Not to say that he hadn't enjoyed those things before. Maybe he had and we just never got around to talking about it. He saw me staring at him and smiled, his face brightening significantly. For a second, my heart surged with the hope that, despite all odds, he remembered our lives before Geoffrey and Peter's machinations. Then I realized his expression was the same as the people I passed in the hall, and he slid causally into his seat, pulled his textbook from his bag, and turned his attention toward Mr. Eastman. I ... wanted ... to ... die. Of course he didn't remember anything about our relationship. Why would he? Now he was just another of the masses, liking me because I was Benson High's darling. Not because of who I really was. Of who we'd been together. The rest of the class was a blur of despair. I think Mr. Eastman called on me at one point, but I simply mumbled a half-hearted "I don't know" and continued to lament the maliciousness of fickle fate. When the bell finally rung, I didn't even bother to move. I just sat there, staring at the closed book in front of me without really even seeing it. There was a part of me that actually began to despise having been turned into the girl I'd become. As miserable as I'd really been as Sam, it seemed better than what I was facing now. Until the moment I saw him, I had tried to convince myself that I would be okay without Lee. I mean, think about it. I'd only known him for two days of real time. How could I possibly be this broken up over something so brief? "Pee-Jay?" I blinked and glanced up. Most of the class had filed out the door, but Lee stood in front of my desk, looking down at me. There was something soft and tender in his eyes. "Huh?" A small smile broke across his face like a spring sunrise. My heartbeat sped up automatically. "I asked if you were planning on sitting through Mr. Eastman's sixth period class too?" It took a moment for his words to actually sink in. Then my face ignited as I scrambled to put my book back into my pack. "No. I, uh, was ... thinking. About ... stuff. Definitely stuff. Not you. I mean, not anyone actually. Just ... stuff." I stood up, slinging the strap of my bag over my shoulder. He arched a brow, continuing to stare at me. "Are you okay? You seemed a little distracted in class." I opened my mouth, then closed it and simply nodded. "Okay," he said. "Well, see you tomorrow, I guess." He turned around and walked to the front of the room. Right before stepping through the door, he glanced back one last time and gave me another warm smile. Then he was gone. My heart went with him. I departed the class and made my way to the nearest girls' restroom, completely ignoring the people who spoke to me. There, I hid in one of the stalls until the bell for sixth period rang. Then I crept back out into the hall, checked for any roving teachers, and made my way to the exit. Geoff was waiting for me behind the sports complex, per my instructions. As I approached, he flashed me a smile. I instantly compared it to the one I'd gotten from Lee, then kicked myself for doing so. Geoff already felt bad for breaking up me and Lee, no need to throw more guilt his way. "Hey," he said. "I thought maybe you weren't going to show." I shook my head. "Mr. Eastman needed to see me for a few minutes after class," I lied. "Sorry to keep you waiting." "It's okay, Pee-Jay," he said. "I didn't mind." God! Stop being so damned nice. Can't you go back to being the smug, forward boy who met me for the first time with an ill-timed kiss and an ass groping? It would so much easier to dislike you that way. I led him through the side door of the building and down the steps to the door of the Clubhouse. When I tried turning the knob, it rotated freely in my hand. I pulled it open and ushered the boy inside before following, locking the door behind me. Charlie, Tabitha, and Tracy were already present. All of them look annoyed. Tabitha was probably pissed that we were late, and Charlie and Tracy were likely unhappy that they'd had to find out about Geoff and Peter from Tabitha. Rather than me. Geoff looked from the three of them to me. "Those two used the stone?" I sighed. I knew what his point was. If they'd used the wishing stone, why weren't they attractive and popular? "Don't be rude," I snapped, unable to keep my emotions under control. Charlie rolled his eyes. "Not everyone wants to be an over-muscled jock." "That goes for you, too," I said, cutting my glare in his direction. "If this is going to devolve into a snipe session, I'll just go home and leave you four to play with each other." Tabitha smirked as she looked over at Tracy and Charlie. "I told you she was fired up. Maybe next time you'll believe me." "Sorry," Geoff said, more to me than to Charlie. "This day's been completely different than what I expected." Before I could respond, Charlie nodded. "That's the danger of playing with celestial magic," he said, gesturing at the rest of us. "As we've all had the misfortune to discover." "Speak for yourself," Tabitha said. "Other than getting replaced as co- captain, my experience with the stone has been just wonderful." Tracy started to take a step toward her former friend, hands balled into fists. "What part of don't be rude, did you not understand, Tabs?" The blonde waved her hand dismissively. "Fine. I'll keep my thoughts to myself, okay?" "That would be a first," Tracy mumbled. I sighed, crossing over to one of the sofas and plopping down. "I give up," I said. "I'm beginning to think that the damned stone specifically picked us as users. We're exactly the petty, backstabbing, jealous type of people Invidia likes." Geoff cleared his throat. "So, uh, speaking of the stone..." "It's gone, isn't it?" Charlie asked, looking completely unsurprised. "It's not where you left it?" Geoff shook his head. "It was in my locker. Wrapped up in an old towel. The towel is still there, but the stone ..." "It does that," I added. "Moves around on its own. Apparently that she- bitch of a goddess doesn't want it kept out of circulation for too long." "Easy with the deity-slamming," Charlie said. "You don't want to make things worse." I almost told him that things couldn't get any worse. At least not for me. And if Invidia thought my blasphemy to be worthy of divine punishment, she'd be hard-pressed to find anything that could hurt me as badly as losing Lee. "You said there were eight users," Geoff said. "There are only five of us here. Peter's in the infirmary, I think." "How hard did you kick him?" Charlie asked, glancing over at me with wide eyes. Guess it was a fair bet that he'd already discovered just how sensitive man-bits could be. "Remember that time that Kara dared you to try kicking a football with a double-bounce high leg lift?" Tabitha asked him. Charlie nodded. "The one where I nearly took off Jen's head?" Tabitha giggled evilly. "Yes. Well, about that hard." Geoff let his question drop as he looked over at me. "Did he ..." he asked, pointing at Charlie. "Used to be a she?" "It's a long story," I breathed. Tracy shook her head. "Charlie used to be a cheerleader named Cindy. She and Sam made their wishes and it turned her into him." "Okay," I said. "Maybe not that long." The larger boy nodded, still looking extremely lost. "And Sam would be ..." I raised my hand. "It's not short for Samantha, is it?" I shook my head. "Nope." Geoffrey walked over and sat down on the sofa opposite mine. "So, wait ... you're telling me the hottest girl in the whole damned school used to be a guy? Is this what you meant when you said your wish was an accident?" "Yep." "Who are the other wishers? What did they get?" The four of us looked at each other for a moment, no one saying anything. Then Tabitha just shrugged and looked at Geoff. "Jen Winters is one of the others. No clue who her partner was. Nor what she wished for, exactly." "However," Charlie interrupted. "Since there seems to be some kind of twisted theme to the wishes, I believe she used the stone to make herself the head cheerleader. Though, you'd think someone who just got their wish granted wouldn't be such a total pain in the tit." "Unless it didn't work out the way they wanted," Geoff said, glancing at me. We spent the remaining portion of the hour bringing Geoff up to speed on everything we knew about the stone and its abilities. From him we learned that the stone had appeared in his backpack Tuesday afternoon. With a note attached that was similar to the one it had on it when Cindy brought it to my house. Only, when we all scribbled down a few sentences, Geoff insisted that none of them matched the handwriting as he remembered it. "It was blocky," he said. "Like a guy's writing." "How the hell can the thing keep vanishing and then showing up with a note taped to it?" Tabitha asked, exasperated. "Especially with different scripts. The words when I used it were written in cursive. Big, flowing letters." Charlie nodded. "Same here. Only not so fancy. A few of the I's had little hearts over them." I stood up, grabbing my backpack. Over the course of the hour, my mood had continued to deteriorate. To the point where I'd attempted to remove each of the others heads at some point. Geoff's more than once. "I'm going home," I announced. Then I turned to look at Tabitha. "Congratulations, you've been reinstated as co-captain. For today, at least. Please try to not be a complete bitch to the whole squad." She shrugged on shoulder. "I'm not making any promises." However, there was no trace of her usual sarcasm in her words. Perhaps she was just as confounded by recent events as the rest of us. When I reached the door, Geoff hopped up and hurried over to me. "Pee- Jay? Or, do you prefer Sam?" "Sam is gone, Geoffrey. Permanently. So, it's just Pee-Jay." He nodded. "Look, I just wanted to ..." I held up my hand. "Please don't say you're sorry again. I can't bear it." A frown formed on his face. "I mean, I just ..." "What part of don't apologize again don't you get?" My voice was louder than intended, bringing the attention of the other three our way. I gave them a hard stare, then turned back to Geoff. "Look, I get it. You made a wish and now you see what it did. You're feeling guilty. Good. You should be." He opened his mouth and I put my hand over it, stopping him from speaking. "I'm trying to forgive you. I keep telling myself that, like what I did, you spoke your desire without thinking. Most of which was due to my own mangled wish. You with me so far?" He nodded, looking a little ridiculous with my hand pressed against his lips. "However ... every time you tell me how sorry you are about it, I get slapped in the face with the reminder of what got changed. I can't move on with that constantly happening. So please, please, please, please, stop it." My vision blurred a bit as my tears tried, once again, to form. "Okay? Just ... stop." Geoff's face fell, his eyes growing morose and somber. Then he nodded his head, and reached up and pulled my hand from his mouth. "Okay," was all he said. I stepped through the door without looking back or saying anything to the others. I hurried up the steps and toward the building's exit. "Peej?" Sarah called from behind me. I spun around, dabbing at my eyes as I did. She was standing a dozen or so feet away, still dressed in her gym attire. "Sarah," I said, fighting against the tremor in my voice. "I ..." "Are you okay?" she asked, glancing over at the stairs leading down to the Clubhouse for second before looking back to me. I started to nod, then shook my head. "No. Not really." She took a couple of steps toward me. "Do you want to go somewhere and talk about it?" I smiled, not because I felt better, but because she was willing to put the rest of her day on hold to be my confidant. It reminded me of how close Cindy and I had been once. Before all the popularity crap raised its ugly head. "I would, but I think I'm going to just go home. I need some time by myself to think." She nodded, stopping her advance. "Okay. I completely understand. I'll catch a ride home with Kara." Crap! I forgot to talk to Chad for her at lunch. I'd been too preoccupied with Geoff's sudden appearance and my instantly overwhelming desire to put a stop to Peter. "Sarah, about talking to Chad ..." She waved her hand. "It's okay. He'll calm down in a day or two." "I'm really sorry." I felt even worse than before, having realized that I'd let my best friend down. She smiled. "It's okay, Peej. Honest. Go." She said it with a note of compassion, not disappointment. "If you need to talk to someone after you think, please call me. No matter what time it is." I nodded. "I will." I almost walked over to hug her for being such a kind and understanding friend. I didn't, though, because I knew the moment I did, the torrential downpour waiting in my eyes would break loose. I exited the building and walked as fast as I could across the campus to my vehicle. I drove home, keeping my speed below the limit. Mainly due to the fact that my watering eyes couldn't see more than a few hundred feet past the windshield. Both of my parents' cars were home. Guess Daddy decided to not stay late at the office. I climbed out of the Jeep and checked my appearance in the mirror. I didn't look like my normally bright, chipper self. But I also didn't look like I was next in line for the hangman's noose. Drawing a deep breath, I strode to the back door and went into the house. There were a couple of pots on the stove, giving off a delicious, savory aroma that made my stomach churn unhappily. I quickly crossed the room and out into the hallway, seeking to escape the nauseating smells of what I knew would be a wonderful dinner. "Is that you, Pumpkin?" Daddy called from the small room down the hall that served as his home office. "Yes," I said, quickly poking my head in the doorway to see him sitting behind a desk staring at the triple row of monitors in front of him. He nodded, giving me the briefest of glances before going back to reviewing multiple spreadsheets. "How was school?" A complete and utter disaster that I'm seriously considering never experiencing again. "It was fine," I lied. "That's good," he said, though his attention was already recaptured by the data. I went upstairs to my room, not bothering to hang my bag on the back of my chair. Instead, I let it simply drop to the floor, kicked off my shoes, and threw myself face-down on the bed. The sheets beneath my nose smelled only of my body wash. Not even Lee's musky aroma remained. I didn't know if that was good or bad. I lay there for a long time, staring at the darkness before me. So wrapped up was I in my own misery, I didn't notice that my mom had come into the room until I felt the bed next to me shift under her weight and her hand rest lightly on the small of my back. "Hello, sweetie," she said in a soft voice. "Bad day?" I nodded, still pressing my forehead into the comforter. "Would you like to talk about it?" I paused, mulling her offer over. When Sarah had asked me, I had refused. Mostly because my nerves were far too raw to engage in any sort of meaningful conversation. Plus, if Sarah was the type of friend I figured she was, she would try to "fix" the problem. If for no other reason than to try to help me. However, my mom ... Penny's mom ... might be just the right sounding board I needed at the moment. So long as I could refrain from babbling about magic stones and altered realities. Slowly, I rolled over and sat up, pulling my legs beneath me on the bed. "I guess so," I said, tentatively accepting her offer. She reached down and took both of my hands into hers as she looked into my eyes. "It's a boy, isn't it?" She asked, before I could say anything. I nodded, looking down at our joined hands. "Yeah," I said, my voice trembling on the edge of cracking. She nodded. "Is it Geoffrey? Or someone else?" I stiffened for a moment. Then realized that, thanks to that morning's wish, Geoff was my boyfriend. He had been for a while. So, of course, my mother would know who he was. I sighed, shrugging my shoulders. "Both, actually. Things with Geoff are, uh, a little strained. Right now. But there's this other boy. In one of my classes ..." I trailed off, looking back up at her. "Do you like this boy?" I nodded. "A lot." "More than you like Geoffrey?" "Yeah. He's ... I feel like he understands me. Or did. He might not anymore." She smiled, the expression I knew from past experience to mean that she was empathizing with my problem, but was going to only provide moral support. Any conclusions I came to would be all my own. She'd done the same thing with Sam when he was younger. "What makes you think he doesn't get you anymore? If you believe that's the case, surely you have some clue as to why he's changed." I'll take Stupid Magic Rocks for a thousand, Alex. "He just has. I mean, he's still nice and friendly. Plus, I can tell he's still the caring and compassionate person he was yester ... uh, before. I just don't think he's interested in me like that anymore. I mean, I should be grateful that he's still as much of himself as he used to be. Right? I just wish ..." I stopped, feeling a splash of ice form in my blood stream and a lead weight drop into my stomach. How many times did I, or anyone for that matter, use that simple, throw-away phrase. With absolutely no regard for the havoc getting their desire could cause. "I would just like things to be different." She nodded. "Fair enough, sweetie. Tell me about Geoffrey? Was there something he did, or didn't do, that made you decide that you'd be with this other boy rather than him? I mean, you seemed so happy this morning." Her lips parted into the type of wry, amused smile that only a mother could express. "During our discussion about the previous evening." Oh god. No! I hoped she was talking about something, anything, other than the morning's "talk" that occurred in the prior reality. Surely Geoff and I hadn't done the exact same thing as Lee and I. A different boy meant a different event. Right? Although, I had to admit the stone seemed to make the minimal amount of changes. "I was. Sort of. But today ..." I pulled my hands free from hers and flopped backward onto the bed. I draped my arm across my face. "I feel like I've lost everything." "Penelope Jean, if you are going to be melodramatic, I'm going to leave." She put her hand on my leg. "I'm simply trying to understand how you went from your claims of love for Geoffrey this morning to going totally Ophelia over this other boy." I sighed and pulled my arm away from my nose, turning my head to look at her. "Ophelia?" She shook her head. "From Hamlet? Really! What is Mr. Eastman teaching in that class of his?" "Rime of the Ancient Mariner at the moment," I replied. Then I slowly sat back up. "I don't know if I'm in love with Geoff. mom. I mean, maybe I did, once, but I sort of feel like he's turned into this complete stranger I don't even really know." If that wasn't close to the truth of the matter, I didn't know what else could be. "I see," she said, sounding just the slightest bit skeptical. Not that I blamed her. "Now you think you might be in love with this boy from your class?" "Maybe. I don't know that either. I mean, he said ... sort of, that he loved me. Once. And it made me really happy." "Now he doesn't love you?" She reached over and ran her fingers down the side of my head, stroking my hair. I closed my eyes, savoring the sensation. Memories, distant and faint, bobbed beneath the surface of my thoughts. Mom doing this when I was younger and upset. Before Sam put up that wall of indifference and apathy. If you'd asked me a week ago, I would have said that our relationship, as it existed, was perfect. She stayed pretty much out of my life, and I liked it that way. Now, my emotions in turmoil and my heart on the verge of being a shattered mess, I craved that comfort that mom was all too happy to give me. Just another realization that life as Penelope was preferable to a life as Sam. "Sweetie," she said as she continued to pet my head. "It's not my place to tell you what to do. You're a young woman now, which means the choices in your life are going to be harder than when you were a girl. What I will do, however, is give you some advice. Advice I hope will be helpful." I opened my eyes, looking into hers. "What advice?" "You can rarely go wrong with listening to your heart. However, that doesn't mean that your heart is right all of the time. So, if your brain and your heart are in conflict, especially when it comes to matters of romance, I advise you to take a step back from the situation and let things develop as they may." "So, just ignore the way I feel toward Lee? Or don't feel toward Geoff?" "Lee, huh?" Mom smiled slightly. "Thank goodness we don't have to refer to him as 'the boy' any longer. That was getting exhausting." I couldn't stop myself from returning her smile. It was infectious. "Sometimes I refer to him in my head as Hottie McTaylor. But we should probably stick to calling him 'Lee'." Her smile turned into a little laugh. "I see. But, yes. Take a step back, ignore your feelings for a bit while you examine both young men and determine what it is, logically, that you find attractive about each of them. Then compare it with what your heart says. I promise you'll find your answer that way." I sighed, then nodded. "Okay. I'll try that. It's just hard, you know? All these new emotions and attractions. Not really used to them." She stopped petting my head and lowered her hand to my arm. "This is where I tell you that you'll eventually get used to the war that can form between your head and your heart. Unfortunately, you'll never be completely used to it. Even when you get as old as I am." I rolled my eyes. "You are not old, mom. You're beautiful and wise. Like Yoda, only less green and wrinkled." She laughed at that, covering her mouth with her other hand. "Well, thank goodness for that. I'd hate to see what Yoda would look like in one of my slinky dresses." Removing her hand, she unfurled her legs and stood up next to the bed. She rose onto her toes, stretching her calves to relieve the discomfort from having sat for so long. As she did, I took a moment to study her. Actually see her, for the first time in years. She was still dressed in the gray wool business skirt she'd worn to the office. The light blue blouse was unbuttoned at the very top, revealing her throat and just the barest hint of womanly cleavage. Her legs were almost as toned as my own, due to her spending most of her day on her feet, moving from one examination room to the other. Despite being over forty, the years had been more than kind. With the right attire and makeup, she could easily be mistaken for a woman a decade younger. As I looked at her, I realized that there was a lot of her in me. Penny me, that is. We had the same shade of chestnut brown hair, though hers was several inches longer. Our noses were nearly identical, and our chins. Her eyes, however, were a light hazel color. The green in my own were courtesy of my father. She stopped stretching and looked over at me, arching a brow. "What?" "Nothing," I said, my cheeks growing warm. "Are you sure?" I nodded. "Just wondering if I'm going to be as beautiful as you when I get your age." She laughed. "Sweetie, you are going to be far more lovely. You're already so beautiful now." Yes. I'm beautiful now. Thanks to a goddess' magic stone. But you should have seen me as a guy. None of your genes made it through to him. Then, of course, neither did any of dad's. It was like it took me becoming a girl to stop looking like an ugly troll. She walked toward the door. "Dinner will be ready in about thirty minutes. If you feel up to eating." A sudden urge slammed into me, sending me scrambling off the bed and rushing over to catch her before she left the room. I threw my arms around her waist and hugged her tightly. Caught off guard, she gave a little squeak of surprise, then wrapped her arms around my back, stroking down my spine. "I love you, mom," I said, actually meaning it this time. Not that I hadn't loved her as Sam. Or in the past two days as Penelope. It was just that, after our girl talk, I realized that I'd let some of that love slip away from me. "I love you too, Penelope." She kissed the top of my head. "Now, let me go pry your father away from his financial reports so he can help me finish making dinner." I reluctantly released her, and when she'd stepped out into the hall, closed the door behind her. Returning to the bed, I grabbed my phone and flopped down on my back. Taking a deep breath, I pressed my finger against the sensor on the back, unlocking the screen. The wallpaper that appeared was still the same image of Sarah and I that had been there since I'd awoken as a teenaged girl. I thumbed through the apps until I reached the photo gallery. I closed my eyes for a moment, then opened them as I tapped on the icon. The screen became a montage of thumbnailed photos, arranged in reverse chronological order. I selected the most recent, watching as the image jumped forward to fill up the screen. It was a picture of Geoff and I at Jacob's party. The pool in the background caught the light and created a starburst-like halo around our heads. Geoff's arm was extending out of the frame, indicating that he'd been the one holding the phone. His other arm was around my waist, and we both had huge, happy smiles on our faces. I also noticed that the lavender bikini had been replaced by the skimpier red and white one. I guess the Penny that Geoff's wish had created was a bit more daring than I was. To say it was a bit freaky was an understatement. I mean, when I'd perused my photos on Monday, it was odd to see all the things that Penny had done that I had absolutely no memory of. However, it paled with seeing an image from an event I had perfect clarity of, that showed a couple that hadn't even existed. Hell, no wonder Jen kept losing her shit whenever someone made a wish. I was thrown into a tizzy after a single reality change. I couldn't imagine what it would be like to have to deal with three. Or more. I sighed and scrolled backward through time using the photo gallery. The earliest picture of Geoff and I together looked like it was taken at my birthday. Granted, there were pictures of us before that, but never looking like a couple. Just us hanging around the our friends. The birthday photo, however, left no doubt to the status of our relationship. The person who'd taken the pictures was unknown. Though, if I had to guess, it had been Sarah, considering she wasn't in very many of the three dozen or so shots. I scrolled through them, forming a jump-cut movie of the event. We were at my house, downstairs in the dining room. The entire squad, including Jen, was there. All of us dressed like we were on our way out to go clubbing. Mom came in with a cake which read "Happy 17th, Penelope." Figures. I blew out the candles. Everyone was laughing about something. Well, everyone but me. I had my hand over my face and I could see Daddy standing behind me in the doorway. Not hard to guess he'd said something rather embarrassing. Then we were all filing out the door toward a huge, black, stretch limo parked at the curb. The driver as an older guy, probably in his earlier thirties of middle eastern descent wearing the stereotypical uniform of a chauffeur. There was one shot with Kara on one side of him and me on the other. Both of us making kissy faces at the camera. A few shots of the ten of us crammed into the expansive interior. The only one who didn't seem to be having the time of her life was Jen. Oh, she still smiled at the lens, but the shots where she wasn't the focus showed her with her trademarked scowl. The next several were us in front of a Japanese restaurant I recognized. One of those super expensive places where they cook the food in front of you. There were a pair of shots taken with us gathered around a gigantic jade lion. Sarah was next to me in this one, so I guess she'd asked someone else to snap the picture. Then we were in a large, private room with half the football team, some guys I think played basketball, and five or six other people from school. All in all, there were nearly thirty people gathered there. I froze on the next set of photos which showed me sitting at one of the cooking tables. The seat on my right was empty, but the next on over held Chad. On my left, though, sat Geoff. He had his arm draped across the back of my seat, leaning to the side so that our shoulders were only a few inches apart, smiling at the camera. Then we were turned in our seats, looking at each other. There was a serious expression on both of our faces. Next was us smiling widely at each other. Our eyes locked firmly on those of the other. Then ... bam! Geoff had his hand on one of my shoulders, the other cupping my chin. Our lips were pressed tightly together, and the curve of my jaw left no doubt to the intensity of the kiss. The next two were of us holding hands, me turned to say something to Chad, who was grinning like the cat who ate the canary. Geoff, despite being turned in the same direction, wasn't looking at Chad. Or the camera. He was looking at me. In both of the photos, my attention was directed toward someone else. His was focused solely on me. I knew the look in his eyes in both of the pictures. I'd seen it before. In Lee's. I closed the gallery, sighing as I tried to process the reality behind the memories I didn't have. Geoff's wish had turned us into a sickeningly sweet couple. Although neither of us had really been present, the Geoff and Penny everyone else knew had been together for the better part of five months. There were a lot of other photos of us that I had only skimmed past. A whole lot. From what I'd glimpsed, we seemed to be really happy together. In love, even. The problem? It wasn't us. I'd never gone to that restaurant for my seventeenth birthday. Never celebrated with the Raiderettes, nor shared a passionate kiss with Geoffrey Barnes. Sam had actually spent the day in his room, alternating between playing WOW and watching The Empire Strikes Back for the umpteenth time. The evidence to the contrary was immortalized by the phone in my hand. Creating my philosophical quandary. My existential dilemma. Was that truly me in those pictures? Was it Geoff? Just because I hadn't lived through them the first time didn't mean they weren't real. Like Morpheus told Neo, "How do you define 'real'? If you're talking about what you can feel, what you can smell, what you can taste and see, then 'real' is simply electrical signals interpreted by your brain." I felt like Penny. I had her emotions and feelings and thoughts. Most of the time. So didn't that make me truly her? And if we are the sum of what we've experienced, then the Penny I was now had to have been shaped somewhat by her past. Regardless of the source of that past. I groaned, closing my eyes and pressing my hands against my temples. The logic loop was threatening to make my brain shut down. I didn't want to have to ponder the validity of my existence. Or my romantic relationships. You fell for Lee because he was there, Sam's voice said in a tone one might take with a child. When you became Penny, the two of you had already been attracted to each other for years. You didn't try fighting that reality then. So why are you rebelling so hard against this new one? Is it because, unlike Lee, Geoff knows you aren't really the girl everyone else thinks you are? Before I could scream at myself to shut up, the phone in my hand buzzed. Without hesitation, or bothering to look at the screen, I pressed my thumb instinctively on the green phone icon. "Hello?" I said, putting the device next to my ear. "It's about damned time you answered," Jen's voice snarled into my ear. "I don't appreciate being ignored. Especially by the likes of you." Author's Note: I hope you found this chapter to be entertaining. A lot of mental and philosophical drama in it to be sure. As always, comments and reviews are appreciated. Either here or at [email protected].