Now that I’d come back to my senses, I tried to figure out what was going on.Mrs. Bean had asked me to make a wish, I knew that much. I remembered the sign in her tent at the Beltane fair that said WISHES $2. But Mrs. Bean wasn’t a real fortune-teller. Even if she were, fortune-tellers didn’t grant wishes. Only fairies did.I gasped at the realization.Your wish will come true.“Oh, my God,” I said out loud. It hadn’t been Mrs. Bean at all. It was the glowing box I’d found in the woods. That had been the fairy’s treasure—to make my wish come true. I just hadn’t made the wish until I was in Mrs. Bean’s tent.I ran upstairs to my room and practically wrecked the place trying to find the box before remembering that I’d never taken it out of my jacket pocket. Gently I removed the tiny alabaster lid. Inside lay the fortune-cookie strip of paper that had predicted that my wish would come true.Well, it had, that was for sure. I’d wished that Peter would pay attention to me, and he’d turned into a sex-crazed pest.
