The Iron Will of Genie Lo (The Epic Crush of Genie Lo 2)

The spirit in his arms flailed its pseudopods and turned as purple as a Concord grape. Quentin maneuvered his face out of its thrashing like he was avoiding getting smacked by a toddler.

“That’s right,” he went on before I could say anything, as if he’d found damning evidence that I’d been cheating on him. “I heard the whole thing with you and that Ax guy. When we first met, you would have slapped someone across the face for suggesting you give up on your education. And now you’re going to throw away your dream for money?”

“Quentin, to a very large extent, college was about money! The whole point of getting my degree was so that I could make more money as an adult! I may not be able to wait that long anymore!”

I hadn’t had time to weigh Ax’s proposition before, but now that I was talking about it out loud, it sounded less like a fevered delusion and more like a real option. My family needed money, didn’t they? I needed to take care of my family, didn’t I? Well, now I had the means dangling in front of me. The only requirement was that I sell out my core identity to take on an unbelievable risk because a complete stranger told me to. Simple as that.

The ironic thing was that I was incredibly lucky—privileged—to have this choice. If I didn’t live in the one part of the country that sailed on a sea of bloated promises, swollen wallets, and computer code, I would never have gotten close to such a big pile of cash in such a short amount of time. Hooray for the Bay Area.

“I can’t believe this,” Quentin said. “Since we met, our lives revolved around school! We scheduled demon hunts around it! In the course of one weekend, you’re going to decide that none of that mattered?”

I pointed at him. “When we met, you were an insufferable asshole! Things change, people change, and if you’re going to imply that I’m the only person not allowed to change, then you’d better get the hell out right now because I’m not here for it!”

The blob suddenly shifted into a tetrahedron, then a sphere, and then a spiky sea urchin shape. Quentin tried to keep it still.

“It’s reacting to your emotions!” he hissed at me. “Calm down!”

“And not yours?” I whisper-shouted back. “You calm down!”

Quentin paused and then bit back whatever he was going to say. Not in front of the blob!

We glared furiously at each other while he gently patted the spirit, comforting it back into its amorphous, pale-hued state. “I’m going to find a safe place to put this thing,” he said. “Call me once you’ve defeated wh

atever Genie doppelganger I’m talking to right now.” He opened the door and walked out of the bedroom.

“That doesn’t even make sense!” I yelled at his back as he left the apartment. I had the distinct feeling the blob had sided with him over me during the argument, and it pissed me off.

Ji-Hyun looked at me from the kitchen. She was stirring a Bloody Mary with a celery stalk.

Ah, hell. We hadn’t used a silence spell, and she’d heard the whole thing. Silence was the first piece of magic I’d ever seen Quentin do, and we’d forgotten. Our negligence was getting out of control.

“I’m not going to judge you two for arguing over a video game, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Ji-Hyun said. “I know they can get pretty intense, and if that’s what you two center your relationship on, then that’s what’s important to you.”

I didn’t follow her until I realized that was how she’d interpreted our nonsense words. King of Heaven. Demon hunts. It probably sounded like guild drama in an MMORPG. I knew a couple of friendships at SF Prep that had ended over such issues.

“But you need to learn how to fight with each other better if you want your relationship to succeed,” she said.

“I thought successful relationships meant never fighting.”

Ji-Hyun chose to drink half of her brunch cocktail before explaining. I waited.

“That’s not the case at all,” she said. “Everyone fights. The important part is being fair to each other while you’re doing it. The two of you are good at expressing what you feel, which is nice, but you’re crap at acknowledging why you feel it. I give you a flat C.”

The rules of hospitality prevented me from telling the older girl off. Instead I narrowed my eyes at her.

Ji-Hyun pointed to herself with her celery. “Burgeoning doctor, remember? I have a full complement of Intro Psych courses under my belt.”

She bit the stalk with a crunch. “I really should be charging you money for this advice.”

15

“I can’t believe you’re doing this,” I said. “You were at death’s door this afternoon.”

“I feel better now,” Yunie said. She craned her neck in the mirror as she put in her other earring. Music pumped faintly through the door. It was coming across the pool, from the other building in the complex. The festivities had shifted location. To the other side of the spirit-vomiting waters.

“Ji-Hyun isn’t partying tonight,” I said. “She’s with her study group.”

“Yeah, her study group at the grad center bar.” Yunie made the tippy-drinky motion with her hand. “I’m not going to have anything. Or at least I’m not going to have anything out of a Solo cup ever again. Yeesh.”