His arms wrapped around me, gently surrounding me. I didn’t want his affections. What if my dad had come home and happened to look out the sliding glass door while this was happening? Was it possible to be grounded past my graduation date? And yet I didn’t try to push Robin Hood away. I already knew how strong he was and besides, Clover was nearby.
Robin Hood leaned toward me, his lips lowering toward mine, then the next moment, he disappeared. The yard was silent and empty. Well, empty except for the discarded chip bags and cereal boxes. I walked around the lawn, picking them up.
I should have been relieved that Robin Hood was gone, and mostly I was, but another part of me felt achingly sad. I had hoped Robin Hood would turn into the hero I’d read about when I was younger. I had wanted it so badly. But maybe heroes were all works of fiction. Maybe in real life, nobody was that noble or self-sacrificing. It was another good reason not to read novels—they set you up for disappointment. Life had enough of that on its own.
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I put the trash in the garbage can and went back inside. On the bright side, I wouldn’t have to worry about more robberies, or about Hudson spying on me, or about the police hounding me for bandit information.
True, it had been a waste of two perfectly good wishes to ask for Robin Hood to come and then ask for him to go back, but I would make sure I was careful with my last wish. I would ask for something great, something amazing. Something that would make me happy.
• • •
That night after I showered and changed into my pajamas, I sat down on my bed to figure out the best way to phrase my wish. Chrissy, I decided, had been right the first time when she suggested wishing for wealth. If I asked for enough, I could donate it to the library and save Dad and Sandra’s jobs—or if they didn’t want to work, they wouldn’t have to. We could move to some private tropical island. Warm beaches, blue ocean, no nosy police officers poking around. Dad would be happy. He’d finally be glad I was his daughter.
I was hesitant to ask Chrissy for some huge amount of money in my bank account: I’d seen a crime show once that talked about money laundering. I vaguely remembered that banks had to report any large deposits to the government. It might be hard to explain a few billion dollars turning up. And I couldn’t very well hide that much money in my bedroom. I could ask for a purse that magically never ran out of money, but if I did, I would worry about it getting lost or stolen.
Asking for the Midas touch would be better because a magic touch was always with you. The story of King Midas, however, didn’t end well.
Everything
he
touched
turned
to
gold,
includ-
ing—accidentally—his own daughter.
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I needed something more controllable. I combed through the tangles in my hair and said, “Chrissy, I’m ready to make my third wish.” I thought it would take her a while to answer, but as soon as the words left my mouth, a flurry of twinkling lights erupted in the air.
They grew brighter until Chrissy stepped out of their middle. She wore the same tutu she’d had on earlier, and this time I noticed a name tag over her heart that read Chrysanthemum.
She flopped down on my bed and kicked her satin slippers off. “I swear, working for the tooth fairy is the worst job ever.” She held out her arm for me to see. A few inches up from her wrist, a broken red circle marked her skin. “Look at this. A boy bit me while I was trying to take his tooth.” She leaned her head back on the wall dramatically.
“And then my supervisor got all mad at me for turning him into a squid.”
“You turned him into a squid?”
“I put him in an aquarium first,” Chrissy said. “It’s not like there were any piranha in there. Guppies have never hurt anyone.”
“You turned someone into a squid?” I asked again.
“Don’t say it like that. I turned him back. At the end of my shift.
He probably had fun. What child doesn’t want to be a squid?” She flourished her hand in my direction. “I bet you wanted to be a squid when you were little.”
“Um … I wanted to be a mermaid.”
“Close enough.” She turned her arm over to examine the welt.
“This is going to leave a nasty bruise, and the other fairies will never let me live it down. Jade Blossom was all, ‘Maybe tomorrow night you can remember that teeth are supposed to go in your purse, not your arm.’ ” Chrissy rubbed a finger against the wound. “You’d think they’d encourage efficiency at Tooth Fairy, Inc., but no, I got a written rep-rimand for taking a tooth that wasn’t officially underneath a pillow.” 109/356
Her words didn’t make sense. “Where was it?” She tugged at the lace on her sleeve until it covered the red mark.
“The tooth was supposed to come out of that kid three days ago, but he refused to pull it. He was just being stubborn.” Chrissy brushed some glitter off her skirt and it drifted to the floor in a minty wave. “I got tired of showing up night after night to see if he’d gotten around to losing it yet. I mean, I have a busy route. He was wasting my time.” I tilted my head. “You didn’t pull it out of his mouth, did you?” She blinked at me innocently. “It was just dangling there.”
“Wow,” I said. “Somewhere out there is a little boy who will never sleep soundly again.”
She fluttered her hand dismissively. “He had fun being a squid. I could tell by the way he was waving his tentacles around.” She opened her purse, rummaged through something—I wondered if it was the night’s haul of teeth—then pulled out her wand. Her gaze traveled around my room. “I see my assistant decided not to come. Honestly, the things the UMA puts me through.” Still looking around, Chrissy huffed in exasperation. “Belladonna Spritzpetal can claim it’s my grades that are keeping me out of Fairy Godmother University, but it’s not. It’s because I dumped Master Sagewick Goldengill’s son. Why else would the UMA give me the same worthless leprechaun for three assignments in a row?” She tapped her wand angrily against her knee, as though if she flicked it enough times, Clover would appear.
“How come you and Clover don’t get along?” I asked.
She hesitated, and I thought she wouldn’t tell me, but then she said, “During our first assignment, our teenage charge was being threatened by some neighborhood gangsters. I rounded up the lot of them and told Clover to turn them in to the police.” She pursed her lips as if even the memory aggravated her.
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“He didn’t do it?” I guessed.
“Apparently I should have said I wanted them turned over to the police instead of into the police. He claimed he didn’t understand what I meant.” She let out a grunt. “That bit of magic messed up Chicago for years.”
“He turned the gangsters into police officers?”
“In my defense, who would have ever thought that using correct grammar would actually come in handy in real life? I mean, nobody pays attention to it during English classes.” My gaze shot to my window. I wasn’t sure what I expected to see outside, but I looked anyway. “And you put Clover in charge of sending the Merry Men back in time?”
“Oh, I doubt he messed that up. Even Clover has to get something right every once in a while.” She lifted her wand. “So you’re ready to make your final wish?”
I nodded, nervous. My carefully planned words jumbled together in my mouth, and I spoke slowly in order to straighten them out. “I want something like the Midas touch, but more controllable. I wish I could create gold, but only when I want to.” Chrissy raised an eyebrow in surprise. “You decided you could buy friends after all?”
“I decided that if I didn’t have any, well, at least I can be lonely in a new Porsche.”
Chrissy laughed, then stretched her shoulders. “Mortals are so de-lightfully predictable. It’s a wonder they make any of us go to godmother school in the first place. They could just issue us magical ATMs and be done with it. You wouldn’t believe the hours of new-invention homework they gave us. Totally worthless. No one ever asks for a better mousetrap.” She waved her wand in my direction, and tiny falling stars dropped from the ceiling and surrounded me like 111/356