I turn slightly to my left to check if James is following Bruce to our table, and he is. In the background that song from the nineties, “Sexy Boy”, is playing. Is somebody being ironic? I watch him coming toward me as if in slow motion. He hasn’t spotted me yet, but when his eyes meet mine I feel an electric shock run through my body. He stops, standing rigidly by my side, looking at me as if I were a headless ghost.
We stare at each other in silence for a long moment. Then the song finishes and a trashy hip-hop one replaces it, breaking the spell.
“H-hi, it’s nice to see you,” I manage to stutter, choked by emotions.
“Uh…nice to see you too.” He’s more awkward than I am. I can’t believe this is the same man that used to…well, you know.
“I hear congratulations are in order.” Crap, did I really just say that?
I notice a flash of rage pass in his eyes at my comment.
“Ally, I’m so sorry.” If possible, he seems even more embarrassed than before. “I wanted to tell you in person. I asked V not to tell you until I had spoken to you.”
Oh, but the bitch couldn’t wait to rub it in my face. Does he really call her V? I hated the familiarity in his voice when he said it.
“Well, we haven’t exactly been on talking terms lately. I haven’t heard from you since…” I look him straight in the eyes, trying to find the courage to say what I’ve come to say. “Since the night you left me,” I add in a low whisper.
“Yeah, right.” He sighs, staring at the floor.
I’m trying to read his body language, but it’s impossible. He seems upset, but I don’t understand if it is out of regret or if he’s annoyed he has to listen to his ex-girlfriend giving him grief.
“Ally, listen.” He suddenly raises his head and looks me straight in the eyes. “You’re the most wonderful person I’ve ever met. I wish things went differently between us. I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you—it wasn’t my intention.”
As soon as he’s finished talking, somebody shoves him from behind and his hand ends up on my bare shoulder. He removes it immediately, but even the slightest touch is enough to make my skin burn while a million questions pop into my head.
What do you mean I am the most wonderful person? What about Vanessa? Why are you marrying her and not me, then? How did you wish things went between us? Why did you hurt me so badly if you didn’t want to?
“What do…about…marrying…didn’t want to?” is what I say instead. Unfortunately, my brain appears to be going into overload as I try to voice all the questions at once.
“Yeah, I know, nobody thought I’d get married so soon.” I don’t know exactly what question he thinks he’s answering.
I try to regain my cool before speaking again. I need to be ballistic if I want to get something out of him. I want to play a little mind game.
“Well, when you meet the right person you just know,” I offer.
“Yeah, Vanessa is the right one,” he says while scratching his nose. “I’m glad you’re cool about it.” Another scratch.
He’s lying! All he just said is a big fat lie. He always scratches his nose when he lies. It used to drive him mad when we were arguing, as I could always tell when he was lying and he never understood how.
“As long as you’re happy, I’m happy for you,” I push.
“Yeah, I’m happy.” Scratch. “Truly happy.” Scratch.
This is BS! I don’t understand. If she doesn’t make him happy, why is he marrying her? And why is he lying to me about it? And above all, why is he looking at me as if I was the forbidden fruit? He’s the one who dumped me without a second thought.
It doesn’t make sense. He’s not telling the truth. If I keep asking questions, he’ll just keep lying. How can I find out what’s really going on?
In that moment, a light bulb appears above my head! I know exactly what I need to do…
“Can I borrow Mel for a few minutes?” I ask, turning to an overenthusiastic Bruce. It’s understandable, since in real life it’d be impossible for him to have a go at such a beautiful girl. If he knew what’s underneath, I bet he wouldn’t be so pleased with himself.
“You’re stealing the light away from me,” Bruce says, slurring his words in a disgustingly drunken fashion.
“I’ll bring her back ASAP, I promise,” I say, grabbing the genie by the hand to drag him toward the restrooms, our favorite conversational ambient.
He suddenly squeezes my hand forcefully while squealing loudly.
“Ow, you’re hurting me. What’s up?” I protest, trying to free myself from his tight grip.
“I will let you know exactly what is going on. That troglodyte you call a man just now slapped my buttocks,” he announces, indignant.
“Who, Bruce? Yeah, he’s a pig,” I say dismissively, and pull him down the stairs toward the ladies’ room.
“This farce has to end,” the genie says furiously. “I will not stand a second more of this humiliation. My lineage will not allow it.”
“Genie, please, we’re almost there. I need only another ten minutes,” I say, entering the dark restroom. There is no line, but every stall is occupied.
“I will not stand another second of it.” He’s going berserk.
“Yes, you will, because I need you to.” I’m becoming angry myself. “I don’t have time for your whining right now. Can’t you see how important this is to me?” All the emotions of the evening are coming out, infusing my words with passion.
As soon as I’m done speaking a stall frees, and I push the genie inside, closing the door behind us and taking away any chance he has to reply.
“What are you doing?” he asks, scandalized. “It is not decent to be seen together in such a place. Where is your sense of propriety?”
“It’s perfectly normal,” I say crossly. “And I don’t have time for etiquette lessons either. I want to express my third wish.”
“What? Here? You certainly cannot!”
“Why? Is there another stupid rule against expressing wishes in improper surroundings?” I retort, irritated.
“First of all, you are befuddled by alcohol, and secondly—”
“First of all, you need to lower your voice.” I interrupt him, whispering angrily. “And second of all, I am perfectly sober, and I most definitely don’t need your advice. I want to know what James is hiding from me, and I want to know it now. I need to read his mind. Can I wish for it?”
“You are insane,” he blurts, shocked. “That would have terrible consequences. You would never trust anyone again. People’s thoughts are private for a reason. Trust me, I’ve seen it happen before. Mind reading will lead you into paranoia.”
“I. Don’t. Care. Can I do it or not?” I am adamant.
“Yes, but I beg you to reconsider. Think it through, wait until tomorrow.”
“I can’t wait until tomorrow. James is here now. For better or for worse, I need to know.”
“I implore you not to go through with this. You will regret it.”
“Why? I won’t be reading people’s thoughts all the time—only when I need to.”
“The temptation will be too powerful to resist. You’ll never be able to see people for what they really are—you’ll get lost in the labyrinths of their psyche.”
“I think I can handle myself.”
“Everybody does. Only a few really are able to.”
“It’s a risk I am willing to take. Now, do I follow the usual procedure?”
He simply nods, his crumpled forehead clearly expressing his deep concern.
I admit it’s a little difficult for me to take him seriously, given the fact that I still see him as a hairy dude in a pink dress. And he always worries too much.
I take a deep breath and launch into my spell.
“I wish to be able to read people’s minds—or not read them,” I add, taking into account the genie’s warning. “Whenever I want, forever. Avra Kehdabra.”
This time there is no sound to confirm that everything went through all right, and I don’t perceive any changes in myself.
“Is it done?” I ask the genie, uncertain.
“Unfortunately for you, yes,” he replies gloomily.
“Great! So how does it work? How do I do it?”
“As always, you need to be able to see the person you want to read,” he explains. “Again, it is not necessary to have eye-to-eye contact. However, as the eyes truly are the window of the soul, if you do you’ll have a much more powerful connection, and their intellects will be more open and available to you.”
“So I just fix on somebody, decide I want to hear this person’s thoughts, and I’ll have access to them?”
“More or less—however, mental objects aren’t always clear text to be read. You could receive emotions, images, memories, and other unpredictable things. Please always remember what you’re doing, and never underestimate it.”
“Okay.”
“One last thing. Please keep in mind that not everything you see will necessarily be real—you could get figures that are just the products of people’s imagination. The brain is able to conjure the most horrible things, but it doesn’t mean a person will automatically act on what he or she is thinking…”
Oh no! Another sermon that will last forever. I wonder what he would think if he could read my mind. I just want to go get some answers.
I try to interrupt, but without success.
“Please let me finish.” He stops my attempt to free us from this cramped stall. “It is very important you understand that even if you are re-living a memory of something that happened in reality, it doesn’t mean that the way you are seeing it develop is what actually took place. The subconscious could be filtering the memory, making it different from what it really was, changing the facts, turning one’s perspectives into truth.”
“I’ll be careful, Genie, I promise. Stop worrying so much—I swear I’ll keep a critical approach to all that I see or hear,” I reassure him. “Now let’s get out of here.”
Before going back upstairs, I want to test my new gift. I pretend to wash my hands to select my target. There is a cute girl standing next to me applying pink gloss on her lips. Let’s see if I can really penetrate inside her inner self. I side-glance at her, concentrating on my intent.
Maybe I should be at home studying…Dad will cut my funds if I get another B…Whatever. I’m already too drunk to study anything, and Kevin’s so cute…
I did it! It’s amazing! I want to try it another time just to make sure I master the process. I turn toward a woman on my other side and focus.
Did he believe I was twenty-nine? I’m too old to be going around bars picking up boys…I’m thirty-five years old…I want to be married, I want kids, I want a house and a dog…I hate you, Marshall! You ruined my life! I hate you I hate you I hate you…
Whoa…back off, lady. Not only I could hear her thoughts loud and clear, but she also transmitted a strong wave of hatred so forceful that it scared me. And no…no chance in hell she’ll pass for a twenty-nine-year-old.
I’m beginning to better understand the genie’s admonitions. This gift is definitely not something to play with.
“Everything all right?” he asks me in a low voice.
“Yes,” I whisper back. “Just dealing with other people’s feelings.”
He raises an eyebrow, and I don’t need to read his mind to know he’s thinking “I told you so”.
I run up the stairs, unable to contain myself. I stop abruptly at the top when I see Bruce standing alone at our table looking pissed for some reason. I concentrate on him to understand what’s going on.
I can’t believe he left me here…first he begs me to go out with him to avoid a boring dinner thingy with his stupid fiancée…then when I have something good going on for me, he ditches me because he’s scared of his ex…bastard…Vanessa is ten times hotter than that Ally…what’s he complaining about? I hope Melissa is the easy type…
After that, I receive a clear vision of what Bruce hopes to do with “Melissa” later tonight. Eew. I’m not sure if I feel more revolted by Bruce, or disappointed that James took off. I feel like crying. He literally ran away from me. Again!
My lower lip begins to wobble. I bite it, resolute. I’ll see him again. I’ll get my chance at the truth another time; I just need to be a little more patient.
“Come on, we have to get out of here without Bruce seeing us,” I inform the genie.
“Why? What happened? What about your quest for truth?”
“I’ll explain later. I want to go home.”
“Thank goodness this night is over,” the genie sighs in relief behind me.