CHAPTER 14: ALABAMA’S BIRTHDAY WISHES

“And then what happened, Gramma Alabama?” asked Sonya.

“Yeah, Gramma, then what happened?” echoed little Helene.

I smiled at my granddaughters. “Why don’t you two climb into bed, and then I’ll tell you.” The girls brushed their teeth, changed into their jammies, and got into their beds. “Well now, let’s see,” I said, continuing the story.

What happened next is that I celebrated my 18^th birthday. Everybody came to my party—Magnum, friends from school, even Maulik and Perla took time away from their busy lives to celebrate with me. Before blowing out the candles, I made a wish. Actually, I made a lot of wishes.

In the future I wished for, my dad’s political career really took off. After serving on city council, he became mayor and did a lot to solve the homeless crisis in our city. The he ran for state senator and won. The voters all loved how down-to-earth he was, and how passionately he spoke about the issues that mattered most, like programs to help the poor and programs to clean up the environment.

His girlfriend Dahlia was by his side the whole time, helping him with his campaign. She was good for him in other ways, too, like encouraging him to read more books and to eat healthier. They even started jogging together every morning and kept it up for years.

Soon after she moved into our condo, they discovered that she was pregnant. Dad was going to become a father again! Months later, Magnum and I got to meet our new twin baby brother, Lachlan, and our baby sister, Linda. The song we wrote about them made it to number 2 on the pop music billboard charts.

I reconciled with my Mom after that. She had left her marriage with the Mountain and was now pursuing her dream to become an actress on Broadway. She kept apologizing for not being there for me when I was growing up and encouraged me to travel down to Alabama, to meet my other relatives. I promised her I would do that someday.

In the meantime, I kept right on focusing on the thing that brought me the most joy—singing songs in front of crowds of adoring fans.

Magnum kept right on singing, too. In fact, he eventually became more famous than me, because he began composing some of the most beautiful songs anyone had ever heard. When he played the piano and sang, well, it could even bring tears to anyone’s eyes. I believe his music could turn thorns into roses. I didn’t mind, though. I was famous enough. My time to shine in the spotlight lasted for many years.

But all my fame and fortune didn’t even compare to the day I married Daniel. I was young and in love, and a little bit foolish, I supposed. After we got married, we moved down to Alabama, bought this gorgeous old house, and fixed it up.

We didn’t stay married very long, but we did give birth to two healthy children, including your dad. And later, much later, my beautiful grandbabies were born.

Now some of those birthday wishes didn’t actually come true. But this is the way I like to remember things happening. The most important wishes did come true, and that’s why I get to be here tonight, tucking you girls in.

Now go to sleep, both of you. Tomorrow is another day for you to grow, and dream, and reach for your own shining stars, whatever that might look like.

THE END

CHAPTER 13: IT’S ALL PUBLIC NOW

It’s ridiculous how shy I felt when I first showed up at high school. What could I possibly have to worry about? I was Alabama freaking Holliday, one of the world’s biggest pop stars. People literally worshipped me (not that I asked them to).

Still, my stomach was so jumpy during my first week of school, I could barely eat anything. Everything was strange. Though I was famous, it’s not like kids flocked to me to want to be my friend. They seemed content to fawn over me from a distance, and intimidated if I came near. When at last I was included in a conversation, everyone kept looking at me like they were waiting for me to say something funny, or profound, or interesting. Instead, I’d wind up saying something completely awkward.

It took some time, but eventually I made some friends. Mostly artsy types who liked to burst out singing the songs of Broadway musicals at random moments.

I even met Daniel, a cute boy that I really clicked with. He was sophisticated and quiet, and he treated me like a human being, not like an untouchable star.

Dad took his girlfriend, Dahlia’s advice and announced his bid for city council.

Politics kept him super busy. Despite our crazy schedules, we still tried to carve out moments together, even if those moments were while I was doing homework and he was trying his best to help me. Dad had never been great with the school stuff, though, and half the information he gave me was totally wrong. But I appreciated his attempts to be there for me.

We went out to eat sometimes, too. We both had a thing for street food, like tacos or satay. But our growing popularity meant that everywhere we went, we were bombarded by fans.

I even started to disguise myself when I went out in public, to stave off the stans and paparazzi.

In what was left of my free time, I kept pushing forward with my music career, churning out new albums and performing concerts, as long as they didn’t disrupt my schooling.

Magnum’s music career was still going strong, too. By the end of the school year, we each had a song in the Top Ten on the pop music charts. Okay, his song hit number 3, and mine only hit number 5. Magnum knew that drove me crazy and teased me about it.

One day, just for fun, Magnum and I went onstage together at a local benefit concert and sang a song together. It was completely unplanned, but it blew up on social media. Overnight, we were shipped by our fans. Maglabama. They were calling us.

“Shipped with you? Yuck!” I said, laughing.

Magnum made a face. “The feeling’s mutual.”

Luckily, Daniel, who by now was my boyfriend, was totally understanding about it. Especially when I explained that Magnum and I were more like brother and sister.

If only I’d known how close to the truth that was.

Magnum’s mom decided to throw a birthday party for Magnum. Dad and I both went, as did Uncle Maulik and Perla. It was the first time any of us had ever been invited to Magnum’s house, which was an enormous mansion in the hills, with sweeping views of the city lights below. There were other celebrities there, too, along with a few kids from Magnum’s private school.

While Magnum and I were busy entertaining the guests, and unexpected thing happened. Magnum’s mother entered the room and let out a little shriek.

“Antares!” she cried, rushing toward Dad. Dad hugged her, his expression bewildered. “It’s me, Lindsay,” she said. “We dated a little, years ago.”

“Oh, Lindsay, of course!” Dad’s face reddened. He was probably remembering how disrespectfully he’d treated her, back when he was going through a phase of being a dick. “How…how’ve you been?”

She tugged him toward the nearest couch. “Look, there’s something important I’ve got to tell you.”

Later, I learned that this was the moment Dad found out the truth. The last night he and Lindsay had been together, she’d gotten pregnant. The baby boy had been Magnum, my brother. My real, actual brother from another mother.

Dad ran through a whole list of emotions. He was shocked. Then angry. Then embarrassed that all these years had passed, and he never knew that Magnum was his son. And now, as he stood next to Magnum, it was glaringly obvious. Magnum was practically a carbon copy of my dad.

CHAPTER 12: MEGA-STARDOM AND CUTE SOCKS

As I grew, my fame grew with me. By the time I was fifteen years old, I had achieved the very thing I’d dreamed of. I was a superstar. No, a mega star.

Three of my songs hit number one on the pop music charts during the same year. My concerts all sold out quickly. And I have to tell you—there is no feeling in the world quite like the euphoria of stepping out on the stage in an arena packed with adoring fans, all screaming their heads off because of you. Because of the music you make for them. Because of the lyrics you sang that touched their lives, and your rhythms that set their feet to dancing.

The only person I knew who fully understood what I meant was Magnum. The media caught onto our friendship and really played us up as rivals. They compared our every move—every concert, every interview, every public appearance. It was kind of annoying. Especially for Magnum, who wasn’t the competitive type at all.

“I’m not out here to be the best,” he told the media over and over again. “I’m just out here to share my music with the world.”

Not me. I was out here to be the best, secretly thrilled when fans preferred something I did over something my best friend did.

Even Dad was amazed at the power I wielded. Though his political campaign was coming along just fine, he sometimes asked me to join him at protests and political events, since my presence could draw a crowd.

It was at one of these events that he met Dahlia. She was fun, and energetic, and super smart. She also happened to be deaf. Though she could read lips and speak aloud, she also communicated using sign language. Dad was so infatuated, he signed up for ASL classes online so he could communicated with her even better.

Dahlia was great for Dad. As they got to know each other, she began nudging him to go bigger.

“Forget about all this grass roots stuff,” she told him. “If you really want to make an impact, you should run for city council.” He agreed.

One night, before a televised live concert, I couldn’t find my shoes anywhere. “What am I supposed to do?” I asked my manager in a panic.

She glanced down at my feet. “Just go out there in your socks,” she said.

“My socks?” I mean, cringe, right? My socks were cute, but come on—socks with no shoes? I was out of time, though, so I took a deep breath and stepped onstage in my socks.

Talk about pandemonium.

The trend caught on like a forest fire. Guys and girls everywhere started buying up every pair of cute socks in existence and wearing them without shoes. Schools started sending kids home for breaking the dress code and blaming it on me. Kids were winding up in the hospital with injured feet and frostbitten toes. Parents wrote me letters and posted desperate pleas on social media.

“Please, for the love of God, Alabama Holliday, put on some shoes!”

The next time I appeared on TV, I wore the biggest, punk-est pair of boots I could find. And guess what became the new trend?

Then Dad made a decision that brought my career to a screeching halt.

“It doesn’t look good for me to run for public office while my own daughter is being educated by private tutors,” he said. The next week, I began the scariest, most nerve-wracking experience of my adolescent life so far.

I became a student at a public high school.

CHAPTER 10: CHASING FAME

One thing I learned quickly was that no matter how famous you got, there was always someone more famous. I was already a star. That was obvious by the size of the crowds I drew wherever I went, and the number of likes I got on my TikTok and Simstagram.

My producers started booking me for more and more concerts, at bigger and bigger venues. I even got to sing a duet with Lula Pop – only THE most amazing performer EVER!!

Kids especially loved me. I started a thing with wearing hats all the time. Next thing I knew, it became a trend. Kids all over the country started wearing hats just like mine and singing along to my songs into pretend microphones.

But it wasn’t enough. I wanted more than simple stardom. I wanted to become famous around the whole world, just like Lula Pop. I wanted Alabama Holliday to be one of those names that makes the Ticketseller app crash, because so many people want to come to my shows.

So what was standing between me and superstar status? Just one person. Magnum Farris. He was still my bestie, but he also turned out to be a pain in my rear. His shows sold way more tickets than my shows. And he got to go on TV interviews and everything after his song, Baby Two More Times, hit number one on the pop charts.

If that wasn’t enough, I found out Magnum could do more than just sing. He could play the keyboard AND sing at the same time! So unfair!

“I need to take piano lessons,” I begged my dad. “Pleeeease!”

Dad was actually kind of broke. His new job had an okay salary, and the money I made got mostly stashed away into savings for college. But life in Del Sol Valley was really expensive. And we still lived in the same dumpy house we’d always lived in. I didn’t even have a bedroom of my own and had to sleep on the couch.

But Dad relented, and in addition to my school tutor, he hired me a piano tutor. Thing number two I learned very quickly: playing piano is HARD! I practiced every day for two hours, but I still kept hitting all the wrong keys.

One day, who should appear while I was busy practicing, but Magnum Farris.

“Oh, that was you trying to play?” he asked, pretending to be surprised. “I thought maybe a cat was jumping all over the keys and making that noise.” He laughed and laughed.

“You shut up!” I yelled at him. “Just wait…I’m going to be so much famouser than you, nobody will even remember your name!” He didn’t speak to me for two weeks after that.

While I was busy chasing fame, Dad was working on his own dreams. He liked his job as a businessman, but it was kind of dull. He missed being in the limelight, and he wished he could be doing something important. Something that would make a difference.

One evening, he took a walk around our neighborhood and cut through a local park. He’d often seen homeless people in this park and around the community, but had scarcely paid attention to them. For some reason, on this night, he stopped and looked. Really looked.

He saw how many people there were without homes, and imagined how difficult it must be for them to live this way, without the conveniences so many of us are used to.

Their plight tugged on his insides in a way nothing ever had before.

“I’ve decided that I’m going to do something about the homeless issue in this city,” my dad told Maulik later. “Enough is enough. If the bureaucrats that run this town won’t do anything to help, then it’s time I threw my hat in the ring.”

Maulik raised his eyebrows. “You tellin’ me you’re gonna run for office?”

“Someone has to. And if I can manage to sell people a bunch of expensive underwear, then I can sell them on doing what we need to to make this city a more affordable place to live. For everyone.” Dad pounded the table for emphasis.

“Spoken like a true politician,” said Maulik, nodding in approval. “You got my vote.”

CHAPTER 9: LITTLE MISS ALABAMA HOLLIDAY (AND MAGNUM)

The cool thing about living in such a star-studded city is that anyone with a little bit of talent could become famous overnight. And as my dad discovered, I didn’t just have a little bit of talent. I had a LOT of talent. Dad wasted no time at all in capturing my skills. He drove me to a popular place on the strip, where tourists come all the time, hoping to catch a glimpse of a movie star. He had me stand in front of a microphone he’d borrow from a friend while he operated a big, professional-looking camera.

“Now sing,” he said.

“Sing what?” I asked.

“Anything. Just show off your voice.”

So I sang. I sang songs I’d heard on the radio. Songs by Taylor Swift and Selena Gomez and Harry Styles and Beyonce. I sang every song I knew the lyrics to. Within a few minutes, I began to draw a crowd.

My first crowd!

When I was done with my little acapella performance, everyone stood and applauded. It was the best feeling in the world.

By the end of the week, I had a music producer, who worked with a team to promote me. I still went to normal school during the day, but I spent long afternoons and evenings in the music studio, recording songs someone had written for me to sing. It was fun, but exhausting.

My producers started to book gigs, too. Mostly, they were concerts for some more famous singer, and I was an opening act.

“Introducing a very talented, up-and-coming superstar,” the announcer would tell the audience. “Put your hands together for little Miss Alabama Holliday!” The audience always cheered, then broke into awwwww as I stepped out on the stage and reached up for the microphone. Then I would belt out one of my songs, and everyone went nuts, stamping their feet, whistling, clapping.

For me!

It was all very exiting, but the celebrity life started to take its toll. I was often exhausted after late nights in front of the crowd, or signing autographs, or doing publicity photo shoots. My grades at school started to slip.

“Maybe we should cut back on your concerts and signings,” Dad suggested.

I lost my temper at this. “This is MY career!” I yelled at him. “Don’t you DARE try to sabotage it just because your own career went down the tubes!”

Dad was stunned into silence. Later, he told me he wanted to punish me, but his mind went blank. How exactly do you discipline a celebrity kid? You can’t exactly ground them, or their career might suffer. Instead, he calmly told me to speak to him with respect from now on. Then the next day, he pulled me out of school and signed me up with a tutor who specialized in teaching celebrity kids.

That’s how I met my best friend, Magnum Farris. Like me, Magnum was an up-and-coming singer. And we also liked some of the same stuff, like swimming and trading Voidcritter cards.

“You’re my first-ever best friend,” he told me. “Before you, all I had was my mom.”

“I totally get it,” I said. And I did. Because before I met Magnum, all I had was my dad. And Maulik, of course.

“Be careful with this new friend,” Dad told me. “You’re both competing for the same spot. Just remember that the sky isn’t wide enough for two suns to shine at the same time.”

At that moment, I became determined to prove him wrong.

CHAPTER 9: THE BEST MAGIC

After Skyla left, Chandler began to feel happier than he had in years. Even though he was still a skeleton, Elisa didn’t treat him any differently. They spent hours together talking and laughing, or walking through the rainforest to marvel at its strange beauty. Chandler showed her the place where he had discovered the little golden box containing the curse that had changed him.

“Was it really a curse if it changed your life for the better?” asked Elisa. Chandler hadn’t thought it of that way before. But it was true – now that Skyla had left, the house in the rainforest felt peaceful and welcoming, especially when Elisa was around.

After the curse wore off, and Chandler had his body back, he celebrated by teaching Elisa how to dance. She in turn taught him gardening and beekeeping, and the importance of a balanced ecosystem.

“I wish Rusty Heights had a more balanced ecosystem,” said Chandler, wistfully thinking of his hometown, which was more of a concrete jungle, crammed with houses. He didn’t miss the pollution, the noise, or the way people used to escape into their houses at the end of each day, their faces weary after long commutes in heavy traffic. “I miss home,” He admitted to Elisa. “It’s beautiful here, but I miss being around people, you know? And videogames, and thick, cheesy pepperoni pizza. No offense,” he added, glancing down at her salad.

“None taken.” She wiped her mouth with a napkin and gave him a thoughtful look. “You’ve already used up your three wishes, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.” His heart sank, even though he’d already known that a wish is a wish, and he wouldn’t be able to un-wish it and go home again.

“But there’s no reason why we can’t find a ride to the nearest airport and fly back to Rusty Heights,” she said, grinning. “After all, you’re rich, remember?”

He grinned back. “Oh yeah, I forgot.”

One week, one long bus journey down muddy, sometimes treacherous roads, and three flights later, Chandler and Elisa found themselves back in Rusty Heights. It was the middle of winter, and a sparkling layer of snow blanketed the ground and rooftops.

Elisa turned to Chandler. “Well, that’s everything. I guess I’ll be going now.”

A thick lump filled Chandler’s throat. “Do you have to go?” he asked. “I really wish you could stay. Maybe being rich, or fit, or having a woman like Skyla didn’t make me happy. But when I’m with you…” he paused, looking deep into her eyes. “I feel incredibly happy. Like I’m in a dream that I don’t want to wake up from.”

“Oh Chandler!” Elisa threw her arms around him and held him tight. “That’s all it took! Knowing that you were happy, no matter what it took.” She stepped back, her face beaming. “You’ve set me free.”

“You mean you’re fully human now?” he asked.

“Yes, I’m fully human now. And of course I’ll stay,” she said. “I love you. I’ve loved you since before you made your first wish.”

“Well then, I have one more wish to make,” he said, dropping to one knee. “I wish you would be my wife.”

Chandler and Elisa soon married. Chandler found a job working as a city environmental planner and began to help turn Rusty Heights into a town filled with green trees and clean air, and a lot less ugly concrete.

He taught Elisa to play video games and watch geeky movies, and she taught him what it meant to be fully accepted and cared for.

He transformed—not because of wishes, but because of planning and hard work, and most of all, love. It was a different kind of magic.

It was the best magic of all.

THE END

CHAPTER 8: THE SKELE-MAN

“Oh god! Oh god!” Panicked, Chandler looked all around him, but he was all alone in the rain forest. Not that anyone could help him. He stared down at the bones that used to be his perfect, smoking hot body. “Oh god!” he groaned again. Seeing himself as a skeleton was way too weird. He poked a finger through a space between his ribs, but there was nothing there. No heart. No stomach. Only emptiness. He tapped his skull, but it only emitted a hollow sound.

“If I only had a brain,” he sang softly, tapping out a rhythm on his ribcage. He giggled. This whole thing was pretty ridiculous, he had to admit. Who else could claim they disappeared into the jungle for a few days and returned as a stick man?

He wandered around for a while, getting used to the strange clacking sound his leg bones made with each step. He found the pile of dirt and dug around some more, but there were no more golden boxes, nothing that could change him back into a man.

His non-existent stomach growled. How a skeleton could possibly be hungry, he had no idea, but he picked up his fishing pole and cast it into the nearby river. The fish he caught tasted delicious, even without his tongue. Maybe he only tasted them in his memory.

For the next three days, he hiked through the forest, until at last he reached his basecamp, where his mountain bike was still half-hidden beneath some bushes. He thought of Skyla’s reaction when she saw that her new husband had transformed into a skele-man. The idea made him laugh.

“Ready or not, here I come!” he said as his bike skidded to a stop in front of his new house. Filling his non-existent lungs with air, he let himself in the front door.

“Is that you?” Skyla’s whiny voice greeted him as he entered, bony feet clattering against the hard tile floor. “Finally! I was just—” She rounded the corner, saw him, and froze, mouth dangling open.

Chandler grinned a skeletal grin and raised a hand. “Hello, wife!”

Skyla’s scream was the most satisfying thing he’d heard in a long time.

“What’s wrong with you?” she cried, backing away from Chandler. “You’re…oh my god, are you dead? Are you a ghost?”

“Nope.” Chandler danced a little jig to show her that he was alive and well. Skyla did not look impressed.

“That’s it! I’m done!” Face scrunched in anger, she stamped a foot on the floor. “I refuse to be married to a…a bunch of bones!” She whirled around and stalked off. Minutes later, she left, dragging a large suitcase behind her. She must have packed while he was out camping, Chandler realized.

When the front door closed after her, a feeling of relief settled over Chandler’s bones.

Just then, Elisa appeared. She took one look at Chandler and burst out laughing. Chandler couldn’t help but laugh with her. They laughed so hard, Elisa had to lean against the wall for support.

When he caught his breath, Chandler told Elisa the story of his camping trip, including the strange box that had changed him into a skeleton.

“The Curse of Bones,” Elisa said, nodding. “I heard about it from some people down in the village. It should wear off after a day or two. Is it weird? How does it feel?” she asked.

He looked at her. “Never better, now that you’re here,” he said. And it was true.

CHAPTER 7: THE MUSIC BOX

Everything Chandler had heard about the jungle was true. It was hostile. Unyielding. Filled with plants and creatures that were both beautiful and deadly. As he slept in a flimsy tent, the night air filled with the alien calls of tropical creatures, many of which he couldn’t name. Brightly colored frogs slick with venomous slime. Bizarre birds with brilliant plumes. White-faced monkeys that swung down from the canopy to steal food from his pack. It was a world completely unlike his dull neighborhood of concrete and glass back in Rusty Heights.

Thank God.

Here, he could take a deep breath without choking on smoke and exhaust. During the day, while digging for ancient artifacts, he would pause and drink in the heart-stopping views around him. Green trees taller than skyscrapers, hung with vines that looped from branch to branch. Waterfalls that cascaded over sheer cliffs, splashing into clear green pools far below. Flowers that danced in the warm wind, blanketing the ground in vivid colors.

He could live here forever, if not for the lack of cell service and the fact that he was running low on food.

After traipsing around the rainforest for a week, he began the long journey home. With each step, his heart grew heavier. His new home, as lovely as it was, well…it wasn’t home. And Skyla, as lovely as she was, made a terrible wife. Who would have thought that getting everything he ever wanted would only lead to misery?

Well, almost everything, he thought, glancing down at his newly ripped bod. That part was awesome.

One day, Chandler woke to the sound of music playing. Was someone else out here with him in the jungle? Where was it coming from? Stepping out of his tent, he followed the sound, stopping before a large pile of dirt. From somewhere in the pile came the unmistakable wailing of an electric guitar. But how was that possible? Pulling a trowel from his pack, Chandler began to dig.

Sweat poured down his neck as he worked, drenching his shirt. At last, his trowel unearthed a small golden box, which vibrated to the rhythm of the music coming from inside it. Chandler grasped the jewel-encrusted lid of the box and pulled it open.

The music stopped. The empty box tumbled from Chandler’s fingers as he fell to the ground.

When he awoke, the sky peering through the canopy was nearly dark. He must have fainted, he realized, as he climbed to his feet. Maybe, when he’d opened the little box, it had unleashed a virus, or a curse. No, he shook his head. He didn’t believe in nonsense like curses. On the other hand, just a few days ago, he hadn’t believed that a guinea pig could turn into a humanlike genie.

He scanned the ground around him, but there was no sign of the little golden box. It had disappeared into the darkness. Spotting his pack near the dirt pile, he reached out to pick it up. Instead of his own fleshy arm, he saw bone—as though his skin and muscles had all melted away.

He looked down at his body, then let out a terrified scream that echoed through the forest.

CHAPTER 6: HAPPY WIFE, HAPPY LIFE

By the next morning, the novelty of Chandler’s newer, hotter appearance had worn off, and Skyla began to complain non-stop.

“This house is so tiny! There’s barely enough room for one person to live here, let alone two!” Her high-pitched, whiny voice began to grate on Chandler’s nerves. He gritted his teeth and tried to ignore her, but she followed him from room to room, continuing her tirade. “Everything is so dark and dingy. And the furniture – ugh! I’m afraid to sit on that tacky couch. It’s probably infested with bugs.” She shuddered.

Frustration rising, Chandler escaped outside to get some fresh air. Thankfully, Skyla didn’t follow, since she was terrified of breathing in the “gross polluted air.”

As he stood there, gulping in calming breaths, Elisa appeared. “I take it you’re still not happy,” she said, “or I’d have become fully human by now.”

“Of course I’m not happy!” He threw his hands in the air. “She’s impossible to please! She hates everything about my life, including where I live.”

“Sounds like it’s time to enact the third wish on your list,” said Elisa. “Make you rich. Now then, where would you want to live if you were rich?”

Chandler closed his eyes for a moment. “Somewhere tropical,” he said. “Sunny and warm, a big house – but not too big. Lots of trees and nature. None of this—” He waved a hand around at the industrial pipes and towers that had been his view for the past few years.

“Okay then. Let’s make it happen,” said Elisa.

Before Chandler had time to blink, the world around him vanished, and he found himself standing in the middle of a large room filled with expensive, beautiful furnishings. Outside of the large windows was a view of lush green trees and tropical plants. It was better than he’d hoped.

Eyes filling with happy tears, he turned around to thank Elisa, but Skyla stepped in front of him first.

“You did all this for me? Oh, Chandler, I love it!” She swept toward him and kissed him with such fervor, he forgot all about Elisa.

What soon followed was enough to make anyone happy.

But once again, by the time morning came, the temporary happiness wore off, and Chandler was stuck with a wife who seemed to know how to do nothing but complain. Everything was wrong. The house was too far from civilization—where was she supposed to go to get her nails done? The rainforest was too damp, too full of bugs. The tile floors were too hard. The local people didn’t even speak their language!

Chandler was miserable.

“Then I’ve failed,” said Elisa, who sounded just as miserable as Chandler felt. “I’m so sorry, Chandler. I really thought that if I fulfilled your deepest wishes, I could make you happy.” Her large eyes swam with tears, which only made Chandler feel even worse. His unhappiness meant that Elisa—sweet Elisa who’d shown him nothing but kindness and concern, could never become fully human. Would she be turned back into a guinea pig because of him?

“I need to think,” he said. “Maybe a few days in the wilderness will help me come up with a plan. If I can just figure out how to meet Skyla’s needs, then I’ll be happier, too. After all, happy wife, happy life, right?”

Elisa smiled through her tears. “That’s what they say.” Chandler hugged her hard. Then he packed a backpack filled with supplies, said goodbye to Skyla, and headed out into the bush.

CHAPTER 5: NEW YEAR, NEW NERD

Still seething, Chandler stood outside, trying to calm down. Who did that woman think she was, insulting him like that? So what if he cut his own hair? So what if he didn’t have the body of a man who worked out every day at the gym? This is who he was, and if she couldn’t accept that, then…then what?

“Does she have to be my wife?” he asked Elisa when she came looking for him. “Can’t I trade her for a better wife?”

Elisa gave him a sympathetic smile. “Sorry. My powers to grant wishes are kind of limited. They don’t always turn out the way the wisher expects them to turn out.”

His heart sank. “So you’re saying I’m stuck with her?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Well if I’m stuck with this loser, can you at least give him some decent clothes to wear?” asked Skyla. Chandler jumped. He hadn’t hadn’t heard Skyla approach.

“My clothes are fine,” he said, glancing down at his outift. His t-shirt was worn and dusted with toast crumbs, and his pants looked like he’d bought them off the one-dollar rack at the thrift store. Which he had. “Okay, maybe some new clothes would be good.”

“Okay,” said Elisa. “Wish number two, coming right up!” she closed her eyes. Chandler felt a warm breeze whirl around him. His skin prickled with goosebumps.

Across from him, Skyla let out a shriek. “Oh my god! I can’t believe it!”

Elisa opened her eyes and grinned at Chandler. “What do you think?”

He looked down to see that his old clothes had vanished, replaced by an outfit that was definitely more stylish, though nothing he would have ever chosen to wear on his own. But more than just the clothes was his body—a completely different body! Broad shoulders that pushed out the sleeves of his jacket, and abs so hard, he could feel them brushing against the soft cotton of his shirt. In mere seconds, his body had been transformed into that of a serious athlete.

Skyla sidled up to him. “Now that’s much better,” she said, looking at him in a way that gave him shivers. “You’re not a nerd anymore. Now you look like the kind of man I deserve to have at my side—and in my bed.”

Chandler felt a hot blush spread from his face down to his chest. “I—I’ll be right back,” he stammered, then he rushed inside to find a mirror. A very different Chandler stared back at him in the reflection. His face was the same, though now decorated with a trim goatee. His hair was cut in a short, trendy style. He was pretty sure he still loved video games and pizza, and could still recite every line Monty Python and the Holy Grail. He was still Chandler, but a very different Chandler. And this Chandler was about to get laid by his hot new wife.

Maybe having a Genie Pig wasn’t such a bad deal.