Granting a Thief's Wishes

Yelling at people actually felt good.

...Not that I was gonna make it a habit or anything.

As I pulled out the outfit that Nicole instructed me to wear (which was a bit offending, but then I remembered her expression when I showed up at her birthday party wearing my own selection of clothing), I heard a rattle of keys and a door being slammed shut.

Nicole told us that she'd be so busy over at the campus that she won't even make it to our Instant Noodles Night.

Which, come to think of it, was almost every night.

When I opened the door, I saw Maddie looking pale and ill. She was just reaching for her doorknob when she saw me and smiled. "Hey," I said, giving her a once-over. She was wearing the oddest set of clothes, and I was a tad confused. I mean, I knew I wasn't the most trendy and fashionable girl in the country, but surely people didn't run around wearing a parka and a polka-dotted vintage skirt paired with knee-length lime green socks?

"Hi," she replied. "Suzie, listen. I have some studying to do tonight."

"But…Maddie!" I protested instantly. "It's Nicole's big night! You know how important this is to her."

"To her. Not to me. I really should start studying, Suzie."

Then she yanked the door open, gave me a curt smile before slamming the door shut. I stood in front of her room silently, shocked. This wasn't Maddie. What was wrong with her? I tried knocking a couple of times but instead of answering the door, she snapped, "go away, Susannah!"

She said it with such annoyance, she actually scared me.

With one last look towards her room, I sighed and went back to my room to take a shower. Maddie would be obsessed with studying for a while, I thought. She was obsessed before, god knows what she was like after she failed a couple of subjects she took. I still couldn't get my head round the situation though: Maddie failing in her exams. It wasn't that horrible, to be honest. Her definition of 'failing' was getting a C.

She was that…obsessed.

As the hot water trickled down my back, I felt a sense of relief. It felt as if my problems momentarily disappeared. It was as if the water carried it away. I couldn't remember how many times I sighed for that day alone. It was all so perfect. I had my bracelet back, I wasn't a walking bad luck anymore, I wasn't causing the neighbor's cat to kill itself.

And then I met Ryan. Just like I wanted. Only, the answers weren't really the most comforting thing anyone could hear in the world.

If it was true, what was I supposed to do?

"She couldn't come?" Nicole shrieked. She was wearing a gorgeous LBD and her hair was twisted up into a loose bun, held by a silver and blue hair clasp. She tucked a tendril behind her ear, looking disappointed. "She's that bummed out about her results, huh?"

"She is," I nodded.

"You're looking pretty exhausted yourself," she said, a hint of worry obvious in her voice. I gave her a wary smile.

"Don't worry about me, I'm feeling spectacular! And you, you will be more spectacular out there."

"I don't care about how I look!" She exclaimed. "I'm more worried if my designs are fab are not!"

"Of course they will be," I said without missing a beat, although what she told me took me by surprise. She never didn't give much of a damn in how she looked. I beamed at her proudly, throwing my arm around her shoulder and pulling her close.

"I'm so proud of you," I said, pinching her cheeks. She slapped my hands away, laughing. "So I'll be looking forward to it, and Nicky…good luck," I said gravely. She stuck out her tongue before turning on her heels and walking swiftly towards the backstage area.

Satisfied that she got everything done in time, I turned around swiftly only to squish my nose against something quite solid and I was 99.9% sure that I bumped into…

"Watch where you're going there."

I looked up and saw a tall black-haired guy, holding a flute of champagne. "Hey, you're Suzie Bell."

I blinked. Huh? How'd he know my name?

Oh god, did I met him somewhere and we got along as good friends for a night and then we parted our ways, and I – being the dense me – forgot his name?

Or…or—

"I'm Ethan Carnahan? We met once. You're pretty well-known for a fairy."

Oh my god. Who the fuck was this guy?

He took a swig of his champagne and smiled, shoving a hand in his pocket. He was quite dashing of a man. All tall and built. And his suit suited him perfectly. My mind was racing through an imaginary contacts book. Surely, I didn't know a certain Ethan Carnahan, did I?

The corner of his mouth twitched.

"It was a few years ago in spring where my aunt tried to figured out what's wrong with you. Her name is Patricia Carnahan."

Pat C.

Oh. The angel. You'd thought a freaking angel could do you good. But nu-uh.