A Wish Unwanted – Part 3
by Limbo’s Mistress

Tracy beamed at me, as if daring me to try to deny her accusation.

The sounds of the other students passing by the bathroom, on their way to their homeroom, served to remind me that I really didn’t have time to play games with the other girl. She not only knew about the wishing stone, she knew that I had used it. She was completely aware that I wasn’t Penelope “Pee-Jay” Davenport. At least, not originally.

“I … but how…” I rambled like an idiot, trying to find the words I needed to say. Problem was, I didn’t know exactly what to say.

Tracy laughed and shook her head. Then she walked around me, coming to stop back in her starting point.

“You turned out great, by the way,” she said, sounding just a tiny bit jealous. “I just never got the impression you were like that.”

“Like what?” I asked, trying to keep my voice from squeaking. I felt like I was being judged and graded in a competition that I not only didn’t realize I was in, but also where I didn’t know the rules.

“That you were trans,” she said, sounding a bit impatient. “I mean, you never gave off any sort of vibes that you really wanted to be a girl.”

My mouth dropped open as the gears in my brain, gears that had already had a tough time getting any traction, seized and left me standing there with a stupefied expression on my face. All I could do for several seconds was blink at her, trying to find a way to respond to her statement without screaming like a banshee or collapsing into a fit of hysterical giggles.

Fortunately for my sanity, or at least the appearance of it, Tracy filled in the gap based on my reaction alone.

“Oh, shit,” she breathed, covering her mouth with one hand. The nails of which, I couldn’t help but notice, were ragged and uneven. “Oh … shit. You didn’t wish to be a girl, did you?”

I was finally able to close my mouth, feeling my cognitive processes slowly start to flow again. It was like dropping out of hyperspace. One moment, an infinite void of streaking stars. The next, back in real-space with Alderaan’s rocky remains whizzing past the cockpit.

“Of course I didn’t do this to myself,” I said, planting my hand on my hip. “I was perfectly happy being who I was.”

Okay, maybe not completely, totally, one-hundred-percent true. However, I didn’t really want to jump down that hole at the moment.

“Oh,” Tracy said, shifting from amused to sympathetic. “I’m sorry, then.”

I waved my hand dismissively. While I was thankful she was no longer laughing at me, or accusing me of having engineered my new Double-X life, I didn’t want her pity or compassion. I wanted answers.

“How did you know I wasn’t me? I mean, Penelope?”

“Anyone who has used the stone get inoculated to any future changes to reality.”

“Inoculated?”

She nodded. “Think of it like resistance and immunity. I’m resistant to the changes your wish created. I still recall you as you used to be, but I also sort of remember you as you are now. Get it?”

I shook my head. “Not completely.”

However, that was when the first bell began to ring, altering the students and faculty of Benson High that the school day was about to begin. There would be another bell in approximately five minutes. After that, I would be considered late.

Something told me that Penny was the kind of girl who was never, ever, late to class.

“I have to go,” I said to Tracy. “But I still need to talk to you about this. You’re the only one who can help me?”

A tiny smirk appeared on her face. “Help me, Tracy Mallory. You’re my only hope?”

I shrugged a shoulder. “Something like that. I just hope we don’t have to blow up a Death Star. Right now, I’m having a hard enough time trying to figure out simple crap like the location of my new locker.”

She patted me on the shoulder. “Okay, maybe this will help. A lot of things have not changed.”

I glanced down at the twin swells barely contained beneath the black turtleneck. When I glanced back up, Tracy rolled her eyes in response.

“Well, yeah, there have been some big changes. But not the stuff that doesn’t matter. Things that don’t depend on you being Sam or Penelope are still the same. You woke up in the same house, right? Same parents and shit?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“Me too. Which probably means that reality has only changed enough to support the life it gave you. The basic stuff remained the same.”

“Like my locker combination and class schedule?”

She frowned a bit. “Locker, yes. Classes, probably not. Before my change, I would never have been caught dead taking Calculus. With you being who you are now, the subjects you’re taking have likely switched to be more appropriate.”

Now it was my turn to frown. I remembered how upset Cindy had been when she was denied taking AP Physics. Considering what I’d learned so far about Pee-Jay, I had the sinking feeling I was going to be in a bunch of dummy classes with the rest of the jocks and bimbos.

Lovely.

Tracy walked past me to the door and unlocked it. Glancing back over her shoulder, she gave me a tiny smile.

“Good luck, Sam,” she said. “I mean it.”

“Wait,” I cried, hurrying over to her. “When can we meet and talk some more about this?”

“We both have third period as a free time,” she said. “Meet me in the library. Back in the history section.”

“Third period. Library. History section. Got it.”

She nodded. “See you then.”

She started to walk out the door, but my brain was suddenly zapped with one-point-twenty-one gigawatts and I reached out to grab her arm.

“Cindy Mueller,” I said. “You remember her too?”

She nodded, this time looking more … resigned, than sympathetic. “I do.”

“What happened to her? I mean, I realize she’s turned into a guy. Other than that, I have no idea.”

“She the one you made the wish with?”

I nodded.

“Well, I guess the two of you really screwed the pooch then.” She pulled her arm free from my grip. “I have to go. See you in a couple of hours ... Pee-Jay.”

Then she was out the door, leaving me to stand there feeling more disoriented and confused than I’d been all morning. I could almost swear Tracy had deliberately held stuff back. Stuff I was sure I’d consider important.

However, she’d at least helped me a little. Hopefully.

I exited the bathroom and walked extremely briskly down the hall and around the corner. The rows of gray steel lockers lining the walls were assigned to the students by the administration office. As was the padlocks keeping them closed. If what Tracy had theorized about the wish, it would have reacted like any other type of energy and taken the path of least resistance.

Stopping right in front of the door with 3-8-5 printed on a black plate at the top, I held my breath and spun the dial. Left, right, left. The two halves of the lock separated and I nearly did a backflip in celebration. Victory!

I opened the door and grabbed the three books inside, quickly shoving them in the already crowded backpack. Better to be prepared for everything. I also noticed a vanity mirror affixed to the inside of the locker door, as well as several photographs, all of Penelope with members of the popular crowd.

The only thing that was missing was a paper heart with an arrow running through it and two sets of initials separated by a plus sign.

I sighed as I slammed the door closed and hurried down the hall toward Mrs. Thomas’ room. So far, Tracy’s surmising had been correct. Minor things did seem to have been left alone by the wish’s magic. Homerooms were assigned by student number, which was assigned by last name and date of birth.

I’d already confirmed, via Penny’s license, that we were both born on June 1st. I crossed my fingers that I was right as I breezed through the doorway into the classroom right as the tardy bell stopped ringing.

Mrs. Thomas was seated at her desk. She turned to peer at me over the tops of her granny glasses as the last shrill cords of the bell faded away.

“Good morning, Miss Davenport,” she said in a disappointed tone. “So glad you could make it.”

I felt my cheeks grow warm, knowing that every eye was now turned in my direction. Penny might enjoy being the center of attention, but Sam always preferred to remain as anonymous as possible. Forcing a contrite smile on my face, I stepped closer to her desk and lowered my voice as I spoke to her.

“I’m sorry I’m late.” I deliberately looked away and down for a second. “I was in the bathroom. It’s … that time.”

Her eyes widened a bit, before dropping down to my mid-section. Just as Lee had done. Then the old bat looked back up at me and nodded, her face moving from stern to … slightly less stern. “Very well. Please take your seat. The announcements are about to begin.”

Wow. I haven’t even been a girl for two hours and already I’ve used my membership in the Sisterhood of the Bleeding Vajay-jays to get out of situations I didn’t want to be in. Was that a normal thing? Or more the perspective of a guy in a girl’s body?

I turned around to look at the room. As expected, most of those present were looking in my direction. Great. I should have worn a neon sign or something. My idea of trying to lay low was quickly coming unraveled. At this rate, someone was going to figure out that Pee-Jay Davenport was acting a little off.

There were two empty desks left in the room. One of them was behind Derek Jensen, one of the guys I regularly gamed with. While not quite as big a geek as me, he had a nasally voice and often got mocked for sounding like he was a stoner. The hardest drug Derek had ever done was espresso-laden energy drink. Half a drink, actually. And even then he buzzed around and jittered like he’d just mainlined the Speed Force.

The other desk was in front of Candace Ripper. Like Sarah and myself, she was a member of the cheer team. She also had the distinction of possessing the largest chest in our school. Probably even the district. Among us dork plebes, she was known as “Candy Stripper”. Even though we knew we’d get our asses kicked if any of the jock meatheads heard us call her that. Apparently she’d dated almost the entire lacrosse and football teams during her three and a half years at Benson.

My choices were practically nil. There was no question about which seat was mine, so I walked down the aisle, nodding at those who smiled or said hello. When I reached my seat, I slid into the chair and set my backpack on the floor.

The television high on the wall over Mrs. Thomas’ desk flared to life. On the screen, Assistant Principal Hughes and Claire Bender, media queen extraordinaire, sat behind a mock news desk.

“Good morning, Benson High,” Hughes said, smiling at the camera. “It is Monday, October 14th, and here are today’s announcements and briefs.”

As soon as the two of them started talking, I sensed Candice leaning forward. I responded by leaning back, though I kept my eyes on the screen. The morning announcements were about as interesting as the third Highlander movie, but Mrs. Thomas had no problem giving detention to anyone she caught not paying attention.

“So,” Candice said in a near-whisper. “You and Lee, huh?”

I almost whirled around to tell her that was supposed to be a secret. However, I managed to catch myself in time. I waited until the teacher’s gaze moved back up the television before I answered.

“Where did you hear that?” I asked.

“Morgan Bradshaw works the concession stand at the AMC. She saw the two of you come in together. Holding hands, supposedly.”

I groaned. Really? Penny went out with Lee Taylor and he took her to a movie? How cliché.

“Maybe Morgan was mistaken. Might have been Lee with someone else. Or maybe not even Lee at all.”

Mrs. Thomas glanced over our way, but seemed to be satisfied that we were full enraptured to listening to Claire drone on and on about the fall carnival the marching band was putting on to raise money for new uniforms. She pushed her glasses back onto the bridge of her nose and turned back to the screen.

“Come on, Peej,” she said. So, it wasn’t just Sarah who used that nickname. Probably the entire squad did as well. “Lee’s been asking about you for weeks now. Hard to think he would just quit chasing at this point just to go out with someone else.”

“You never know,” I whispered back. “Maybe he found out I wasn’t the girl he thought I was.” Had there ever been a truer statement?

“Whatever,” she said with a tiny huff. “For what it’s worth, I think you two make an awesome couple. Lee’s so freaking hot and you are tote adorbs. Oh, your babies would be gorgeous.”

This time, I couldn’t stop myself from turning around to stare at her.

“It was one freaking date. And I’m not even sure I want to go out with him again. So let’s reel in the whole marriage and kids thing for now, m’kay?”

Her eyes widened and she nodded as she sat back in her seat. The skin of her cheeks and neck was really flush.

I gave her another two seconds of hard staring, then faced forward again. Just in time to see Mrs. Thomas shake her head in my direction.

Just perfect. Now I was going to end up spending my free period in detention doing nothing, rather than in the library getting answers.

I spent the rest of homeroom staring at my lap. More precisely, the phone nestled between my legs.

Okay, after homeroom was French with Ms. LaCroix. Nothing altered there. Except it was less likely that Penny would be ogling the young, attractive teacher. For Sam, it had been one of the high points of his day.

Second, third, and fourth periods were also unaffected by the wishing stone.

After French was Honors History. Which sucked because that class was taught by Mr. Andrews, the only teacher in the Western Hemisphere who could be so boring that a hopped-up meth head would lapse into a coma. Why couldn’t the magic have put me in Home-Ec, or something. Then I could at least learn something I didn’t already know.

I suppose Penny used the time to touch up her makeup and think about cheer routines.

Third period was my Free Period. Every student had one, though not all at the same time. Officially, it was fifty minutes designed to allow students to prep for any upcoming tests. Or finish homework they hadn’t completed the night before.

Unofficially, not even the nerdiest of the nerds did that.

Normally, Sam and a few of his fellow nerds would meet behind the sports building to argue and debate the latest episode of Young Justice, or hang out to read some comics. It was a time to just kick back and decompress from the first two hours of dealing with a school full of self-righteous assholes and rest up in preparation for the rest of the day.

I didn’t have the slightest clue what Penny did during her third period. Other than know for a fact it wasn’t spending time discussing which Green Lantern was the best. Today, however, I planned on being in the library with Tracy.

Four period was lunch. The jocks and cheerleaders always sat at the tables in the quad outside the cafeteria. When the weather was nice, that is. Otherwise, they commandeered the tables furthest away from the kitchen and the garbage cans. Despite being mid-October, the temperature was in the upper seventies. Which meant I’d be dining outside.

Actually, that sounded nice for once. Even if the company would be less than ideal.

After lunch was where things took a sharp left turn into the Twilight Zone.

Penny had British Literature for fifth period, apparently with Lee Taylor. As Sam, fifth period had been AP Calculus, one of my favorite classes. British Lit sounded about as exciting as Honors History.

Intro to Trig was listed in Penny’s calendar for sixth period. Granted, it wasn’t Calc, but at least it wasn’t Algebra for Beginners. I couldn’t help but smile when I realized my grade in the class was about to go rocketing upwards.

My last class of the day was the real doozy. Physical Education. It had been Sam’s last class as well. Which was fortunate, considering I was usually a sweaty, stinky, greasy mess by the time it was finally over. So, instead of having to take a shower with everyone else, where I was sure to be harassed by some low-intelligence mouth breather, I could just throw on my clothes and go home.

As I scrolled through Penny’s schedule, however, I realized that my new life hadn’t changed the chief problem. My girlish side was certainly not the type to refrain from cleaning up after getting all physically exerted. Not a chance in hell. Which meant I was going to have to shower.

In the girls’ locker room.

With other girls.

Having finally solved the mystery of what class I was supposed to be in and when, I used the remaining ten minutes of homeroom to scroll through Penelope’s social media accounts. BookFace, Instantgram, Tweeter. SnappingChat. If it was a program that could be considered a public forum for a teenaged girl’s random thoughts, photos, and other narcissistic endeavors, Pee-Jay Davenport had an account.

There were postings about dance, school, cute guys, vaguely-described nemeses, and what ultra-trendy place was having a “totally happening” BOGO sale. Blah.

Then there were the photos. Cindy had posted what I always considered an excessive amount of pictures online. Something I was more than happy to point out to her every time she bitched about people not taking her seriously.

Compared to Penny, my former best friend was a complete amateur.

Pictures of Penelope by the pool in a dark blue bikini. On a beach in another tiny bikini, this one emerald green bikini. Penny on stage at some ballet performance. More ballet, but inside a studio room with mirrors on the wall, turning the image into a hundred Penelopes standing on their toes with their arms in the air. At an amusement park, or maybe a carnival, with Sarah, Chad, Tabitha Stevens and her boyfriend, Mark Byers. A group shot of the cheer team, still in their uniforms, crowded around a little table in a pizzeria I recognized.

Staring at the images itched at something in my chest. Envy? Jealousy maybe? Yeah, it was easy to look down my nose at the whole shallow flock of them. However, in every picture I scrolled along, the whole group of them seemed happy.

She … seemed happy.

I shut off the phone and stuck it back in the purse as the bell sending us to first period sounded. I slid out of my seat, waved bye to Candice, and headed out the door to French.

Was this the horrible life Cindy couldn’t wait to get away from? Granted, I still knew only about two percent of what it was like to be Penelope. Though, from the hundred or so photos, it looked like she was enjoying herself just fine.

Could it be a question of me, as a girl, being more resilient than Cindy? Maybe the stuff that drove Cindy crazy was the stuff the Penelope liked. Just because I was now the pretty, popular girl, didn’t mean I was exactly the same as her.

How fracking crazy would it be if I was better at being a girl than her?

The thought hit me like an optic blast and I stopped walking in the middle of the crowded hallway, nearly causing a catastrophic traffic jam. Had it been Sam Davenport who’d parked so abruptly, he would have been knocked over at least a half-dozen times within the first three seconds. Pee-Jay, however, was given the courtesy of having the stampeding throngs move around her.

“Come on, Peej,” Sarah said, sidling up to link her arm in with mine. “We’re going to be late.”

I glanced over and flashed the other girl a smile, a genuine one, then nodded. Together we walked like that down to the far end of the hall. Along the way, we were greeted, waved it, and occasionally cat-called in a playful manner.

And dammit if I didn’t like it a bit.

French went by a lot slower than normal. I guess when you’re busy conjugating various direct action verbs with a fourth of your attention while undressing the sexy brunette Parisian with the rest, fifty-five minutes goes by at Warp Factor 9. However, I felt too distracted by my own thoughts, and body, to spend more than five minutes studying Ms. LaCroix’s curves.

The cold water bucket dumped over my head that served to end the leering was the random thought that went through my head from out of nowhere. A thought which suggested that, while the teacher might have a more rounded bottom, I had bigger boobs.

Bam! Instant French sobriety. Merci beaucoup.

When it was over, Sarah went to wherever she was going while I went to History to have my brain numbed. Mr. Andrews, true to form, did not disappoint. He started with the myriad of entanglements and treaties that fell like dominos to start the confrontation known as World War One.

I spent the last thirty minutes with my leg vibrating at super speed as I watched the seconds tick by like hours on the big clock at the front of the room. When the bell finally rang, I almost expected to look around and see my classmates with long white beards and age spots. Surely there is some type of extreme time dilation that occurs when Mr. Andrews starts talking.

Snatching up my backpack, I hurried out the door, eager to meet up with Tracy.

In the hallway, I passed by Candice, who held up her hand to get me to stop.

“Pee-Jay…” she started.

I shook my head and kept going. “I have to go do something. See you at lunch.”

Benson High’s library was in a wing off the main building. It was two stories tall and have plenty of places for students to sit and work or socialize, quietly. Most of the activity took place on the first level. The second floor was all reference materials and boring stuff that no one bothered to read unless it was actually assigned.

When I reached the history section, I spotted Tracy at the end of one of the dimly lit stacks.

“Hey,” she said as I walked up to her. “I wasn’t completely sure you would come.”

“I want some answers. You have them. Ergo, I am here.”

She shook her head. “It’s weird to hear Pee-Jay Davenport say ‘ergo’,” she replied. “Hell, the whole thing is weird.”

“Try living it from this end,” I muttered.

“I have,” she reminded me. “Don’t forget that I, too, have experienced the stone’s power.”

I nodded. “So, first things first.” I gestured at her. “I’m guessing this wasn’t what you expected the result to be?”

Her eyes narrowed to hard little points. I recognized the expression from when her dice would continuously roll low during a gaming session. On reflex, I took a step backward.

“No,” she said through gritted teeth. “This isn’t what I wanted. It is, however, exactly what Tabby wanted.”

I blinked. “Tabby Stevens?”

She nodded. “The one and only.”

“Help me out here, Trace, because I’m starting to feel like the bimbo I resemble. Are you saying that Tabitha Stevens deliberately wished you to be … that?” I tried to keep my tone non-judgmental. I also think I might have failed.

She nodded, opening and closing her fists a few times. Then she seemed to relax and the chances of her going all Bruce Banner in the library decreased.

“I found the stone in my locker one day. It had a note explaining how to use it. Tabby and I were friends, so I thought she would be a good choice. We were both … plain. Not ugly, mind you. And certainly nowhere close to this.” She gestured at herself as I’d done.

“But, Tabitha got prettier? I mean, she’s the co-captain of the cheer squad.”

“Was the co-captain,” Tracy said. “But that’s another issue. However, you’re right. We talked about what we wanted for our wishes, and I went first. I said that I wished she would become a pretty and popular girl.”

“Of course,” I said with a bit more sarcasm than was probably necessary. “Seems to be the typical order.”

She shrugged. “Well, apparently that wasn’t good enough for the bitch. I made my wish and she got all pissed. Why did I wish for her to be ‘a’ pretty and popular girl? Why hadn’t I specifically said she should be ‘the’ prettiest and ‘the’ most popular?”

“Wow, talk about demanding.”

“Then she said if I wasn’t any better of a friend than that, I could enjoy being even more of a loser than I already was. Her wish was for me to be an overweight, unattractive nerd.” She let loose with a soft laugh that was just the other side of the border from insanity. “Guess I’m lucky the stone didn’t also throw in a penis on top of the rest.”

I shook my head. “But, why do I only remember you as … you? The Tracy Mallory I remember has been into science fiction and rpgs since freshman year. Since I used the stone, should I be … inoculated?”

She shrugged again. “The best I can guess, is that the memory of the reality before you made your wish is still your memory. Even though your whole reality has changed.” She held up her hand. “For example, I’ve been to Sam Davenport’s house dozens of times, right?”

I nodded.

“Okay. We both still remember that. However, no one else will. I mean, why would Tracy Mallory, nerdette esquire, be invited to Pee-Jay Davenport’s house? She wouldn’t. That still doesn’t change the fact that I could go there now and know the layout and details.”

I chewed on my lower lip. “So, following that logic, if someone else uses the stone to change things, they would remember me like this, and not have any idea who Sam Davenport is. But I would remember them as they were before they made a wish.”

“That’s my theory at least. And after you’ve used the stone, you also become aware when it’s been used by someone else. I woke up this morning, and instantly knew someone had made a wish.”

“You didn’t know who, though?”

“Nope. So I waited by the front entrance to see if I could spot them. When I saw you getting friendly with Lee Taylor, I knew I’d found my man. Err, woman.”

“So, you remember how the world as it was before my wish, and you also remember the world as it was after? Like, you know things about Pee-Jay’s past?”

She held up her hand and made a see-saw gesture. “Yes and no. When I first saw you, it was like my brain was identifying you as both Sam Davenport and Penelope Davenport. You know how sometimes in the movies someone will be having a false identity being confirmed and the scanner will flicker between being accepted and being rejected? It was like that.”

“That’s got to be a pain,” I said.

“It took a little getting used to. If I hadn’t seen you, though, I don’t think I would have figured it out. Until that moment, I only knew that someone had used the stone and changed reality.”

“I knew using that thing was a mistake,” I mumbled. “But she just wouldn’t listen.”

“Cindy?” Tracy asked. When I nodded, her frown deepened. “Or it might be more prudent to call her ‘Charlie’ from now on.” She shook her head. “You two screwed each other almost as bad as Tabby screwed me. And you guys weren’t even trying.”

I planted my hand on my hip, pouting a bit. “We both made our wishes while annoyed with the other. I wished she could have a life free from everyone hounding her and fawning over her all the time, just like mine. I mean, like Sam’s.”

Tracy nodded. “That clears up some things. What did she wish for you?”

I sighed. “That’s the really messed up part, Trace. We started arguing. I called her shallow and told her that I didn’t know why she was making such a big deal out of everything. I said that I didn’t understand what it was like to be beautiful and desired.”

Tracy’s frown curled up into an amused smile. “And her next words were something along the lines of her wishing you could understand it?”

“Five by five,” I said. “So now I get to shake my assets on the football sidelines and she gets to be a guy I assume is not too popular?”

“That’s putting it mildly. I don’t know if she … he’s got it worse than you used to. But it’s definitely close.”

“I didn’t want that to happen to her. I really should have been more understanding and given more consideration to the wording of my wish.”

“At least yours was accidental. Tabby dicked me over on purpose.”

“Didn’t you try to reverse the wish? I mean, if your so-called friend got mad because you hadn’t worded the wish like she wanted, why not just make new wishes.”

“We tried that,” she said, sounding dejected. “I even made her go first so she couldn’t make things worse. As soon as she made the wish, the stone informed us that only one wish per person would be granted.”

“Oh.” Well, there went Plan A of getting my manhood back.

“I suggested seeing if we could convince two other people to make wishes for us. Tabby said it was crazy to think someone would voluntarily give up the ability to do whatever they wanted to help a couple of girls trapped by their own pettiness and stupidity.”

I suddenly reached out and wrapped my arms around her, pulling her in for a tight hug. It just seemed like the right thing to do for someone whose life the wishing stone had destroyed. For a few seconds, she let me hold her. Her face was buried in the small of my neck and her hands gripped me around the waist. Then, she pulled away and wiped at her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Most days I feel like I’ve finally come to accept what’s happened. Then there are others when I wonder if I’ll ever truly be happy with the way things are now.” A tinge of red formed on her face. “Sorry about slapping you. In your basement that night.”

I nodded. “I remember.”

The redness deepened. “It had only been a week or so since the wish. For me, that is. For everyone else, I was already a fat dork. Having you and your friends treat me like I’d been one of the group for a while made me feel really good. Then, everyone left and you and I started … you know.”

“I remember that as well.”

“Well, it scared me. It felt good to be wanted again. Desired. Even if it was by a guy I wouldn’t have given the time of day to before my fall. I suddenly realized I was becoming too accepting of my new life. So, I panicked.”

I almost hugged her again, but settled for placing my hand lightly on her arm.

“It’s okay, Trace,” I said. “I was confused with the way it ended. I see the reason behind everything now.”

She smiled, wiping at her eyes again. “You really are a nice person, Sammy. I’m sorry this happened to you.”

“Thanks,” I said, giving her a grateful smile. “Why did Tabitha give the stone to Cindy?”

She shrugged. “Not sure. Unless she figured Cindy would use it in a way similar to what she did. It wasn’t a big secret among the cheer squad that Miss Mueller was getting tired of the pressure and attention. If Cindy made herself less popular, then that would be one less competitor.”

I rolled my eyes. “It seems that trying to be better than other people, or having what they have, is a common theme with that gorram stone.”

“Of course it is, Sam. After all, Invidia was the Goddess of Jealousy and Envy.”

Well … frack!