In-Genie-Us!

Shanaya and Allison had been coming to the Boar's Nest since they were in high school. The barbeque place was the sort of place Brad and his cronies hated -- no television, no waitresses in short skirts and with their breasts falling out of their blouses. Just good southern food and, thanks to Allison's ability to sweet-talk the staff, a beer or two, things like 'legal drinking age,' be damned. They had gotten drunk for the first time here, had gotten sick in the parking lot, and had been forced to take a cab home, much to the silent disapproval of two pairs of parents.

In a blink, they were seated at a cozy booth. Shanaya ordered tea, Allison a diet soda, her lips tightening as she stared at her phone.

"Anything from Brad?"

Her friend turned the device over, hiding the screen. "I'm not his mother. He doesn't need to check in with me every five minutes."

"That sounds like something he would say," she commented.

"Don't you start," Allison snapped, waving a finger.

She held up her hands. "Fine. I'll back off. If you can answer one question."

Allison's eyes narrowed. "What?"

"What is it that you love about him? Because I've been watching you two for over a year, Allie, and I just don't see it. Granted," she added with a crooked smile, "I've never found men all that attractive. But I can see the way he treats you, and the way he treats other people." She shrugged. "Sure, he's funny, sometimes. But it's always the mean kind of humor, that makes other people feel bad. And yes, he makes decent money, working for his old man, but you can find that anywhere. Hell, as soon as I get out of school I'll be making twice as much as he does, and that's only the truth. He's not hideous, I guess, but I bet you could throw a rock in the town square and hit two or three men who are as good looking as he is."

"Including you, I suppose?"

She spread her hands. "I'll let you be the best judge of that."

The waitress returned with their drinks, and they ordered their food. Shanaya, free to indulge, ordered a full slab of ribs, with fries and coleslaw. Allison hesitated for a second, her teeth worrying at her lower lip as she scanned the menu, then chose the brisket with baked beans and cornbread.

"Those beans will make you toot," Shanaya joked.

"Girls don't do that," she replied primly.

"So?" she asked.

"So...what?"

"So...what is it about Brad that you love? What do you see that makes you willing to spend the next fifty years of your life with him? Because I sure don't see the appeal."

Allison shook her head, her blond hair framing her face, her deep blue eyes, in a way that made her heart clutch. "I don't know. I..." she hesitated, then put her hand on Shanaya's wrist. "Riyad. If I ask you a question, will you tell me the truth?"

"I always tell you the truth."

A faint smile tucked up the corner of her mouth, but her eyes were bleak. "Do you ever wonder what would have happened if you had ever asked me out on a date? Just once?"

This is it, she realized. The fulcrum. The tipping point. The spot where one life could end and another begin. If she had the courage, just once, to open up her heart to the person who had been the center of her universe since she was in preschool.

"Every day," she said huskily. "Every day since I was fourteen years old."

Allison's mouth fell open. "What?!"

"I love you, Allison Christina Weaver." She laughed, though she felt like crying, saying the words which had been lodged in her chest for years. "I love you. I've loved you since we were running around at the Hobby Horse Preschool, and we both had great big grape juice stains on the fronts of our shirts. I loved you when we were in grade school, going out trick-or-treating as Batwoman and Robin. I loved you when we were sitting next to each other in band in middle school, and I loved you even when you were going out with a bunch of jerks who weren't fit to shine your shoes." She wiped a tear from her cheek. "I love you."

If she expected her confession to light the fires of passion in Allison's body, causing her to strip naked and jump across the table, she was promptly disabused of that idiotic notion. Instead, a hot flare of anger crossed Allie's face, and the first words out of her mouth were, "You enormous fucking asshole! Why didn't you ever say something?"

She blinked. "What?"

Allie poked her in the chest with the end of one manicured finger. "Oh, no. You don't get to dump a whole lot of I Love You crap on me and then play stupid. Why didn't you ever tell me how you felt, you tall, skinny weirdo?"

Stung, she shot back. "I'm not skinny!"

"But you are tall. And weird."

"How is loving you weird?"

"Loving me isn't weird." She tossed her head. "Loving someone for how long? Eight years? Ten? Loving someone that long and never saying a damn thing is weird as hell, Ray. You never said anything. Not once. Hell, Brad had me half-convinced you were gay. He said it was the only thing that made sense, since you never made a move on me. I told him to shut his damn mouth. Though if you were, I was going to be pissed as hell at you for not telling me. I thought we trusted each other."

She swallowed a black laugh. "No. I'm not gay." Not since this morning, at least. A few tables away, curious eyes turned toward them, and she lowered her voice. "And that's one more reason your fiancée is a shit. What damn business is it of his, anyway? Can't you see the way he treats people? It's just like him, to make crap up about people. And I bet he had a great big smile on his face when he told you, too, didn't he?" She leaned back in her seat. "Fucking troll. Other people get hurt and he laughs."

"Right." Allison's voice was sharp. "You're shitting on the man who I'm supposed to marry, Ray. So how about we get back to the subject? Why didn't you ever tell me the way you felt? Or at least ask me out? At least then we could have gotten over all this teen-age drama when we were still, I don't know, teens." She folded her arms over her chest, glaring at him.

Supposed to marry. Not am marrying. From the wreckage of the conversation, she drew a sliver of hope. "It's kind of hard to explain."

Her chin lifted. "This place doesn't close until one in the morning." Delicate pink lips closed around the straw, taking a sip of soda." At her waved hand, the waitress came over to pick up her glass for a refill. "We've got all night."

Horribly, Shanaya was reminded of an evening when she had been invited to spend the night at Allie's house. They had been eight years old then, or maybe nine, and Allison's mother had fixed stuffed green peppers for supper.

Allison hated green peppers. Hated them with a passion which was almost holy. But her parents came from the old school. You ate what they put on the table and were grateful for it. Being the polite child that she was, Shanaya had eaten her meal, though her mother had been secretly horrified, she learned later, when she found out her Hindu child had been given beef for dinner.

There had been quite a long talk between her mother and Claire Weaver about that, she recalled.

But Allie had refused to eat her meal. She had sat at the table, her arms folded across her chest, and insisted nuh-uh, I am not eating that gross stuff, no way Mom. And so it had begun. A battle of wills. Perhaps her imagination ran away with her, but it seemed to go on for hours. At last she had distracted Allie's mother while Allison slipped the meal under the table to the family spaniel.

The dog had gotten very sick later that night, which as far as Allie was concerned, proved her point.

"What are you smiling at, Ray?"

She shook her head. "The night Fergus barfed up green peppers, rice, and hamburger, because you were too stubborn to eat it yourself."

"Green peppers are disgusting. Mom should have cooked us chicken fingers instead. And stop avoiding the question. How come you never told me how you felt?"

She ran a frustrated hand through her hair, surprised to find how short it was. Not that she missed it. It had always been impossible to style, no matter what kind of product she used. "Okay. Listen. I'm going to talk like a nerd here for a little bit. But there's a point, all right?"

"All right." Now that the conversation was off the painful subject of Brad, there was a tiny gleam of amusement deep in her friend's eyes.

"There's a branch of physics called quantum mechanics. What is does isn't really important, and anyway, the math makes my head hurt.

"But there's a thought experiment to describe how some of it works. Imagine you have a cat, and you put it in a box."

"Good luck with that. Every time we have to put Boodles in the carrier when we take him to the vet he hides under the couch."

She sighed. "Work with me here, okay Allie?"

"All right," she said, giving her a mischievous grin.

"So you've got Boodles in the box. And there's no way for you to see him."

"No air holes?" Allie sounded upset over her cat's imaginary quandary.

She gritted her teeth. "For the thought experiment, no. So you can't see him. And in the box with him, there's a tiny little bottle of poison. And attached to the bottle is a little switch that has a fifty-fifty chance of activating. If it activates, the bottle with the poison breaks and Boodles dies. If it doesn't break, he's alive.

"So." She took a deep breath, reminding herself against that Allie was not a terribly deep thinker. "Is Boodles alive or dead? Remember. You can't see him."

"I...I don't know."

"Right. So what the physicists decided was that, for the purpose of the experiment, you had to treat the cat as alive and dead at the same time."

A tiny line furrowed Allison's brow. "But what does that have to do with you and me and why you never asked me out?"

She reached over, taking her hand. "Because, Allie. I knew how I felt about you. I've loved you ever since we were kids. I loved you when they showed us those horrible sex-ed films in grade school. I loved you yesterday, I love you today, and I will love you tomorrow. I love you forever.

"But I didn't know how you felt about me." She swallowed and dropped her eyes. "And I was too scared to try to find out. But if I didn't ask, if I never took the chance, if I didn't risk having you laugh in my face and tell me you would never, ever see me as a guy you would be interested in dating, or, or, or anything more, then I could pretend that there was still a chance. Oh, I might wuss out every time I wanted to call you up and tell you how I felt. I might watch you date a dozen different guys, none of them good enough for you. I might see you wear Brad's engagement ring and try on a wedding dress, but at least I wasn't risking having my feelings hurt." Her voice grew thick was self-loathing. "The reason I never asked is because I'm a coward, Allie. I always have been. It was easier and safer to watch you throw your life away than to man up and grow a pair."

Allison chewed her lip, looking at her. "But apparently you did."

"Yeah." She hung her head. "Now that it's too late."

"Is it?" Her friend's voice was soft.

"Is it, Riyad?"

This was hope. This tiny flower, blossoming like a crocus in a snowbank. Her heart leapt. "Allison..."

She shook her head. "No, Ray. It's too much all at once. I have to think. You can't lay this sort of bomb on me and then expect me to make a decision right away. What am I supposed to do? Call Brad and tell him everything's off, just because you finally got the guts to tell me how you felt?"

Unthinking, she reached across the table, taking her cold fingers in her hands. Allison pulled away. "You can't ask me to do this, Riyad. You can't ask me to tear my life apart on a whim. I need time."

"I can. I am. And would it really be tearing your life apart? Or healing it?"

"Ray." A hard note, seldom used, entered her friend's voice. "I said I need time. Are you going to blow a chance with me just because you are too impatient to give me a day or two to process this?"

A grin curled her lips. "So you're saying there's a chance?"

"Yes, you big dope." Her gentle voice belied her harsh words, and her hand reached out to trace the line of her jaw. She closed her eyes, trying to hold this moment in her heart.

"Here you go, lovebirds." Her eyes popped open as the waitress put their trays on the table. Her mouth watered as the scent of barbequed ribs, slow cooked to perfection, hit her nostrils. "It's funny, Allie," said the fortyish woman, frowning down at them. "Here you are, with an engagement ring on your finger, and you're making goo-goo eyes at Ray, here."

"Really, Wanda?" Although Allison's voice was mild, she eyed the woman with scorn. "It's funny. You've got a wedding ring on your finger, but everyone in town knows you'll put out for anyone who will buy you a case of Natty Light and a joint. Now why don't you go and mind your own damn business for a change?"

"Kali have mercy," she breathed as the older woman stomped away in a huff. "What the hell got into you?"

The blond girl took a forkful of brisket, chewing happily. "Damn, this is good. Oh, I don't know, Ray. I'm just so sick of this town. Everyone always looking at you, waiting for you to make a mistake, to get caught sinning so they can feel superior. Sometimes I just want to get away. And not to Paducah or Poplar Bluff or Jackson. Away. Out of Kentucky. Someplace big. St. Louis. Memphis. Chicago."

"I can show you the world," Shanaya sang quietly. "Take you wonder by wonder."

Allison's brows pinched. "That's not how the words go. I know that movie by heart."

"Yeah." She took another bite of seared pork, then wiped her mouth. "But I like my version better. And after I get out of school," she said hesitantly, "I can take my pick of jobs. Less than a year, and I'll never have to come back to Mayfield if I don't want to. Louisville isn't exactly Harvard. Or even Princeton. But the business school is ranked high, and Mom and Dad have a lot of connections. Look how well my sisters have done."

"You're so smart." Allison picked at her food. "I wish I was." Her lip trembled. "I'll be stuck here until I die."

"Not," she said very carefully, "If you come with me."

Allie's eyes blazed as she looked up from her tray. "So I'm supposed to whore myself out to you to get a better life?"

In a prior life, Shanaya would have quailed before that bright blue glare. Now, she returned it calmly. "You know that's not what I meant.""

Their gazes caught, held. After a long moment, Allison nodded. "I know. I'm sorry." She shrugged. "Listen. I need to...to think about what you told me. And I can't do that when you're giving me those big puppy dog eyes."

"Like these?" She pulled a woeful face, looking up at her friend form under her lashes.

"Yes," Allie giggled. "Like those.

"So." She put her hands down decisively. "All we've done since you got back from school is talk about me and my wedding. What about you, Ray? Tell me about life in the big city."

Give her time, a voice seemed to whisper in the back of her head. She nodded, and began. "Well, let me tell you about this one guy in my finance class..."

*****

When Shanaya arrived home, she felt wrung out, beaten like a rug after the emotional events of the day.

She took a shower, soaping her new, male body thoroughly. Over and over, her hands drifted down to finger the long, spongy thickness of her cock, exploring it curiously. It was incredible how the lightest of touches could make it spring to eager hardness. A hundred sniggering jokes whispered from the dark corners of locker rooms or the back of the school bus suddenly made sense, and she spared a silent apology to all the boys who had tried to hit on her at tailgate parties or late at night when the bars were closing. With this biological urge driving them, she couldn't blame them for looking for a possible partner, no matter how distasteful she found it at the time.

With an effort, she forced her hand away from her erect penis, turning off the water and steeping out of the shower. All day long she had been on the knife-edge of arousal. Being so close to Allison had been a form of sweet torture. It had only taken a touch of her hand, a look from her mysterious sapphire eyes, a whisper of her scent, and she was at instant, aching hardness. And then she would have to start the entire dreary process of getting her body under control again, lest she betray her desire by sporting an untimely erection.

"You should really do something about that, you know."

"Fuck!" She spun around, one hand raised in a fist. "For the last fucking time, stop doing that!"

"Oh, relax, Brown Sugar. Your parents are still out."

"The next time you sneak up behind me like that," she gritted out, "I'm going to wish that you spend a month in the worst place I can imagine."

"Where? Iraq? Antarctica? The moons of Uranus?"

"Worse. Utah."

"You wouldn't."

She smiled, baring her teeth. "Try me. Nothing but Mormons and desert and no fun at all."

"Now you're playing dirty." A sudden grin. "Good. You'll need that when you're dealing with that pus-head Brad."

She glanced outside at the late-spring darkness. Nearly ten in western Kentucky, which meant that in Cabo, the nightlife and the parties would just be getting started. A thought struck her. "You know, maybe there's something you could do to help out with that."

Gene shook his head. "No, way, boyfriend. I told you the rules. No physical harm. Or mental."

She folded her arms across her chest, heedless of the way her towel threatened to slip off her waist. "Oh? But what if I asked you to make sure Brad and his buddies were having a really good time? Too good, for instance, to check in with his fiancée, who has been waiting by the phone all evening, hoping he isn't cheating on her again?"

"Oh." An evil grin. "I like it."

"Do I need to wish for it?"

"Nah. This one's on the house. How did things go with your girl?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Don't you know?"

The djinn shook his head. "This is your game, sweetie. Not mine. I'm not going to interfere."

She nodded and took a deep breath. "I told her."

Gene leaned forward. "And?"

She shrugged. "She didn't run away screaming. She didn't tell me it couldn't happen. She didn't..." her voice caught. "She didn't laugh."

"Well, then." Gene's voice was oddly sympathetic. "That's a start."

"She says she needs time. Argh! And that's the one thing I don't have! Brad comes back on Sunday! It's Wednesday night. I only have four days!"

"Relax, baby." The genie patted her cheek. "Didn't Brahma create the world in less time?"

"I don't know," she muttered. "I wasn't there."

Gene chuckled, then his expression closed as his eyes slid down her body. "You know," he said, looking at his groin. "You might want to start getting used to that. And what it can do. Or do you intend to go to Allison's bed a virgin?"

"I'm not a virgin!" she exclaimed hotly.

"Oh?" A sardonic eyebrow rose. "In that body, you are. And wouldn't it be embarrassing and hard to explain if you had absolutely no idea what to do?"

"I know what to do. Tab A in Slot B. Easy."

"Then you're a damn idiot." Gene folded his arms. "Listen to me, Riyad. The pressure is already building. There are two incompatible realities out there. And sometime pretty damn soon, instead of making sure that a tuna-fish sandwich goes splat on the ground when someone drops it, one of them is going to look at you and wonder why the hell you're wearing a male skin over your soul." He poked her in her chest. "So don't draw its attention."

She rubbed the spot. "So jerking off is a way of blending in?"