14. To the Goddess of Luck, Thank You
To the Goddess of Luck, Thank You
ANGIE
I awake to six missed calls hearing Kyra’s tone in a panic through voice mail. Not to mention, scrolling past an entire novel of text messages about her interaction with a silver dragon, that we discussed in great lengths, before finding the urgent messages to come see her immediately.
No elaboration on what, just for me to hurry up and get there. My thoughts travel to Kyra panicking again about the large beast I’m still not sure she encountered…or Ethan.
It’s been almost a week since the Awakening, and he is still hell bent on uncovering the reasons for what happened.
At times, it appears he intends on helping, while others feel like a chance to make true on his promise.
For now, we both agree it’s best for him to avoid seeing her; so hopefully she can have peace of mind.
Unless he is the reason for her calling me.
Knowing Alex is somewhere out venturing, searching for a possible clue to help us, I’m her only ally.
“Kyra,” I say, arriving inside her living area. You told me to meet you here, so where are you? “Kyra! ”
“In the bathroom,” she calls out. There is no sense of panic in her response, but I race there, nonetheless. The door flies open, and I find her sitting on the toilet, studying her hands. “Toilet paper.” She glances up with wonder, and an eerie smile twitches her lips.
“Did you call me over to hand you toilet parchment? I thought you were reliving your dragon dream, not using the bathroom.” My brows pinch.
“What? No. I’m not using the bathroom, just sitting on the lid. And I told you, I was scared shitless behind it, so… Never mind. Can you grab the toilet paper; I want to show you something.” She matches my confused expression with a frown, but I do as she asks.
“Okay, but if this involves me wiping for you, best friends don’t do that.” Handing over the roll, I see her glower as she takes it, holding the roll in one hand while placing her other beside it palm up. A few seconds pass–and nothing happens. “What am I looking at?”
“Shhhh.” Wrinkles crease between her brows as she concentrates. On what, I don’t know, but more time drifts and still nothing. I’m beginning to think Kyra is losing her mind. “Damn it,” she shouts. “It worked right before you arrived.”
“What worked?”
“The toilet paper.” She continues concentrating.
“Okay. What happened with the toilet parchment?”
“I came to use the bathroom and saw the toilet paper …” Kyra pauses, “was empty, then thought, ‘man, I need a new roll,’ and boom, toilet paper.” She points at the fresh one she holds.
“Just so I’m understanding, you sat down to take a shit because of your dream of encountering a dragon, saw you couldn’t wipe, wished for some toilet parchment, and a roll came to you?”
“Never said I was taking a shit or anything about the damn dragon, Angie, but yes, that’s basically what happened,” she huffs.
“So, you’re a genie?” I snicker.
“Here I am thinking you’d take me seriously.
If you’re mocking me, you can leave.” Hurt layers over embarrassment, reddening her cheeks with pouting lips.
She focuses back on the roll, and within those determined eyes fear of failure glistens.
Obviously, something happened, or at least she feels it did.
“Okay, okay. I’m sorry.”
“I promise it worked. But it all happened so fast, I just don’t know how.” Kyra stands, pacing back and forth until her frustration causes her to exit. Tossing the roll down, she struts past me into the living area.
“I was being serious, what if you’re a genie?” I ask, following her out.
“Genies don’t exist, Angie, and they sure as hell don’t have sex to grant wishes.
I’m not falling for it.” Her dismissive tone reminds me of how disconnected she is to our world.
How the stories told amongst those of mortals are founded from powerful fays within this realm.
Not only do multiple kinds of genies exist, but one of their offspring attends Rebirth Academy.
“What in the Gods would give me a reason to lie?”
“Come on, you’re telling me they do?” she chuckles, sitting at her desk, pretending to flip through her study material.
“Yeah, I dated one…Briefly, but still.”
“Of course you did.”
My arms fold. “I’m serious. His name was Chris. He had this annoying saying he’d do that became a major turn off. But wow was he a delicious specimen.”
“You’ve piqued my interest,” she snickers. “What’s the saying?” Kyra becomes fully engaged and delighted in the adventures of my past. Her hands clasp and brows rise, dawning a smile that stretches from ear to ear.
I huff, realizing this will sound just as insane to her as it did to me. “You’ve summoned the genie Chris, once a day I’ll grant your wish?” From the depths of my core, I hate that fucking saying. I twist my face with disgust as she laughs like it’s the funniest thing she has ever heard .
“That’s not bad. It sounds…cute.”
“You say that now, until you’re having sex, and he slides it in reciting that ludicrous phrase.” I frown.
She inhales with disbelief. “He said that before y’all had sex?”
“Before, during, and after. The first time he did it, sure, it was cute, but slowly after, it became annoying.”
“Is that why y’all ended?”
“Nope, I requested a wish from him. Apparently, they can’t perform wishes on themselves or something.” I shrug. Kyra’s chuckle spreads around the room, and oh how I wish she was sleeping with a genie. Maybe then she would understand. It’s not too late to make that happen though. Hmm.
“What did you ask for?”
“Nothing I felt was too hard. Simple even. That he’d be able to fulfill my needs in bed.” I shrug off the countless let-downs delivered by one selfish fay, feeling the ghost of his penis barely able to reach my internal spot, leaving a flustered sensation with a memory of never being satisfied.
“Angie,” she yells, finding my misfortunes a little too funny. “I don’t know what to say to that.”
“All I’m saying is, if I must use a toy more than you, why are you there? At least he was good with his lips, until…” I trail off, getting more irritated by the moment. “Want some iced coffee?”
“No–No. You don’t get to not finish that sentence. Until what?”
“Kyra, let it go,” I beg.
“I will do no such thing. As best friends, it’s your job to inform me on all successful and unsuccessful relationship partners.
Until you’ve proven this was indeed unsuccessful, I’m inclined to think you’re over exaggerating.
” She crosses her arms, baiting me into speaking more.
But who can resist the way she sparkles with curiosity, and how high her cheeks lift when she genuinely smiles.
Since being here, there haven’t been many reasons for such reactions.
“Fine,” I sigh. “I discovered while his lips pressed against me down there…” I point between my thighs for outstanding visuals–if you’re telling a story, you can’t forget them.
“He would recite that awful phrase over and over while fumbling his tongue.” Her laughter erupts into a booming roar, bouncing off the walls as she topples upon the floor, and my skin crawls, shuddering from the phantom sensation and thankful I’m no longer experiencing it.
I continue watching, unamused. “Are you finished?”
“I’m sorry, you must admit that’s funny as hell.”
“Back on topic, it’s possible you’re a genie. Just don’t come up with any annoying phrases.” She clears her throat and takes a seat.
“How would I know?”
“Wait, you said you wished for toilet parchment, and it appeared, right?”
“It’s toilet paper , and yes.”
“Then never mind, genies can’t make wishes of their own. Iced coffee?” I attempt once again to move on from the horrible memory.
“Sure.” I can tell Kyra is sad from getting her hopes up too high.
“Cheer up. It’s a good thing you’re not. Genies don’t have free will. They bounce from fay to fay, granting wishes then moving on to the next. Gaining freewill requires them to be set free of their binds.”
“Like Aladdin and the genie?” she asks. Surprise catches me.
“You know of the Aladdin?” I question, peering over my shoulder.
“I’ve read the book and seen his movies.”
“Oh, so, the mortal version then. Yeah, that was based on the fay, Aladdin, from our realm.”
“Explain.” She arches a brow, and I hand her a cup of iced coffee. With a warm smile she takes it and pulls out the second chair as I perch beside her.
“Aladdin was born an extraordinary fay who wields manipulation magic. He could get inside your head, forcing you to perceive things to be true or false, based on his discretion. Though he was portrayed weak, whoever crossed his path found out about his level of strength the hard way. He became obsessed with power, wanting to know more about magic than anyone in his class. Hell in the entire Academy. He’d break in and steal items that could lead him to more power.
One day, he was tricked into entering a cave with promises of such things, being betrayed by his closest friend.
The same friend he turned into a monkey for sleeping with a woman he fancied.
” I always find that part of the story hilarious. Dumb ass.
Returning to my thoughts, I continue, “Unaware his closest friend set him up, Aladdin then stumbled upon a magical lamp with sigils placed over it. Markings dating beyond the reaches of anything known at the time. Aladdin, curious of the genie’s abilities, manipulated him into getting them out of the cave, a place known for devouring souls of those who trespass.
Once out, the genie told a remarkable story about his past life, using magic and other unknown gifts, which Aladdin used to hold him captive–”
“Damn, that’s fucked up. What an asshole,” Kyra interjects, locked on every word.