One More Wish (Sugar Valley #2)

Prologue

prologue

MAYA

I was thirteen when I realized all my wishes came true.

Year nine was when it all should have clicked. When I wished I could see my dad more, that he wouldn’t be away traveling for work all the time. Hours after I breathed that prayer into existence, he announced we were moving to Thailand. He decided our family would stick together from now on, no matter where we needed to go to open up one of his new hotel properties.

When I was twelve I wished for a cat, and one wandered into my room almost instantaneously. I could have figured it out then.

But at thirteen, I knew . It happened when I made the bold decision to desperately wish for boobs. When they sprouted up overnight like some She-Hulk adolescent breasts, I knew a little magic was at play.

And when all my classmates shunned me for stuffing, when my parents rushed me to the doctor afraid I had tumors, that’s when I realized having my wishes come true wasn’t all that magical after all.

By the time I left for college, I had mapped out every wish I’d made since I could remember. Every one I’d ever said aloud had come true.

And each one bore consequences.

As a kid, I loved the idea of having my dad home at night, but moving to a new city or country every year made it impossible to make friends. And I didn’t even get to see my dad more, not really. We may have been in the same country, the same house or hotel, but he was still constantly working. Only now that our family was together, Mom joined him. They were both busier than ever.

That single wish made me the loneliest person in the world.

And the cat gave my whole family hookworm.

In my teens, I tried wishing smarter. I was more specific, more careful, more desperate. The consequences only got worse. Even my general health wasn’t safe from my wishes.

So I stopped wishing. What was the point? This power that I had didn’t feel like a gift. It was nothing more than a momentary hit of satisfaction until I realized that nothing good would come from it.

And I did stop. For a while. The word wish wasn’t part of my vocabulary anymore. Not until one desperate night at the end of my freshman year in college. I was reading my favorite author’s newest book. She usually wrote romance, cozy stories in small towns that I could get lost in, imagining a life where I knew all my neighbors and had relationships that were more than skin deep.

But this book was different. It focused on the love between two adopted sisters, and it somehow cut into my emotions even more. I’d had a few boyfriends, nothing serious, but I understood infatuation, attraction, maybe even romantic love. What I’d never had a taste of was the kind of love between sisters, of best friends. A soulmate level connection I’d only ever dreamed of.

By the end of the book, my tears were streaming freely, envy and longing aching in my chest, and before I even realized what I was doing, the words slipped out into the ether. “I wish I had a friend like that, a sister in everything but blood.”

As soon as I realized what I’d done, I hid, tucking myself under the covers of my bed, and shutting off the lights like I could shield myself from any magic in the air.

But for some inexplicable reason, that one wish was finally the one to come out in my favor. The next day I got an email from Ellie Klein, offering to help fix the code on my website. A few months into my sophomore year we got an apartment together. We just…clicked. Immediately.

My person had finally found me.

Almost ten years later, it’s the only wish I can think of that didn’t backfire. I assumed it would. The amount of times I held my breath, thinking the worst was coming any time Ellie didn’t answer her phone or came home later than expected, but our friendship seems to have been left unscathed, even now.

With so much time passing, it gave me confidence that maybe not all wishes are bad. Maybe I should use this power I’ve been given. Maybe it could help the swarm of nerves hammering in my chest, alleviate the ache of uncertainty rolling through my gut. And what better time to use a wish than on your wedding day, right?

Wrong.

As I sprint down the steps of city hall, desperately holding up my gown so I don’t trip and fall again , I only have two things running through my head.

Be careful what you wish for.

And always opt for comfortable shoes, even on your wedding day.