Wish I May, Wish I Might

Chapter 11

"So what's your story?" Annabelle asked as she handed me a styrofoam cup with some warm tea steaming from it. We were in a hotel room. I had to admit, I was kind of surprised. I expected that the girl was keeping a room in an out-of-the-way motel where people avoid looking at each other in the eye and keep to themselves or in a super expensive hotel where she was renting out the entire floor. What I actually saw was in between. It was just a regular Marriott-style hotel room with two beds and a bathroom.

Annabelle hadn't pestered me with questions on the drive over or when we entered the hotel, so I hadn't pestered her either. There was an awkward but not entirely uncomfortable silence as she sat me down on the bed that was still professionally made and went to the kitchenette to make me a cup of tea. Now was the first time we were attempting to talk.

I held the cup between my hands, enjoying the warmth coming from it. "I think it may take less time for you to explain your story. You should go first."

She laughed, her voice polite but entirely joyful. "I'm not sure that's the case. Besides, you're in my room, so you have to do as I say."

I wrinkled my nose.

"Okay, that came out wrong," she admitted.

I took in a deep breath and prepared myself before I pulled off the hoodie and wished for my makeup to be perfect again.

Annabelle tilted her head, studying me. I could see some sort of recognition in her expression. "Do I know you?"

I uttered another wish that got rid of the hoodie and the other beaten-down clothes I had been wearing before, replaced with the formal outfit I had been wearing at the trial. Suddenly, I felt exposed and out of place with the girl and her easygoing self-assurance with my innocent little girl makeup and my outfit fit for a wedding or a funeral.

Annabelle watched it all. "I do know you."

"So you've watched the news lately?" I asked.

"Oh Jesus," she muttered. "Are you on the run?"

"Yeah."

"And it has something to do with your wishes?"

"Yeah."

"Shit!" she muttered. "I wish for all evidence of us to be scrubbed from the hotel's security cameras."

"I see you're good with this wishing thing too," I said. "When did you get your wishes?"

"No way, we're going to get your whole story before we ever start talking about me," Annabelle said.

In spite of myself, I grinned. "Damn, you're good."

"Okay, so who are you?"

I had just met this girl. I didn't know her. I had no reason to trust her at all besides the fact that we seemed to have this bizarre thing in common. But I had been holding all of these secrets inside me for so long, when I started speaking, the words, the secrets, burst out. I told her everything you know so far. Sure, I skipped a few things, but she didn't need to know everything. She just needed to know who I was, what happened, and how I got here. And I told her. I told her because I had to tell someone. I needed to talk to someone without lying. I needed to prove that I could talk without lying.

And this stranger seemed like the perfect person to talk to.

I'm not sure how long went by, but by the time I finished talking the tea had long gone cold and I could see the slightest pastel colors on the horizon overlooking the Chicago skyline. Annabelle took in a deep breath and settled back on the mattress. I didn't notice when she had sat down on the bed next to me, but it seemed right for some reason.