Wish Upon a Star by Mindy Klasky

surprising beauty of those swirling bits, and then I blinked. By the time I opened my eyes, a woman stood in front of me.
    A woman. Not the policeman that I expected.
    I was staring at a woman whose hair was a bottle version of my own, pulled back into a ridiculously high ponytail. Her eyes were green, but I knew she had to be wearing contact lenses to get such a garish color. She wore a red sweater, so tight that I wondered if she could draw a full breath. Her pleated skirt hovered well above her knees, and I was willing to bet my last Concerned Caterers paycheck that she wore a skanky thong. A giant white E was pasted across her chest, and her hands were obscured behind two red-and-white pom-poms. She looked like a horny teenaged boy’s dream of a cheerleader, by way of the Playboy Mansion.
    As I gaped, I could just make out the glint of flames tattooed around her right wrist.
    “Excuse me,” I said, half apologizing for staring. “Um, are you a genie?” Okay, stupid question, given how the woman had just appeared in front of me. But really, how do you start a conversation with an unknown magical creature?
    “Hel- lo, ” she said, chomping on gum as she frowned at herself in the mirror. She transferred her right pom-pom to her left hand, using her free fingers to straighten a ragged outline on her lip gloss. “I’m Teel? We met in your kitchen?”
    “Teel!” Now I really couldn’t stop staring. “But you—” I started to say, You’re a policeman. You’re a guy. You’re…magic. If Teel was really able to manifest out of thin air—or at least out of a cloud of jewel-colored lights—then why couldn’t he, um, she change appearance?
    Nevertheless, I took a couple of steps away, shuffling back until the sink’s porcelain edge returned me to conscious thought. I didn’t have a lot of time. Not if I was going to make my audition deadline. If I missed my time slot, my dream of Menagerie! would be over forever.
    Still, my mind insisted on chasing around one question. “What are you supposed to be? I mean, I understood when you were a policeman, that sort of made sense, with the legal contract and everything. But that?” I gestured toward the sweater, the indecently short skirt. “Who are you?”
    She clicked her tongue in exasperation and sighed before blinking seven coats of mascara in my general direction. “I’m an actress? Auditioning for a role?”
    “In what show?” I asked with a queasy fascination.
    “ High School Musical 7? Senior year of college?” She ruffled her pom-poms beneath my nose. I didn’t know where to start, telling her everything that was wrong with that, starting with the fact that there wasn’t any such show on the bulletin board downstairs. Instead, I glanced at my watch. Seven minutes before my own audition. Not that I was cutting things close or anything.
    I had to accept that my can-do policeman genie was gone. I was stuck with this sexpot—love her or leave her. I swallowed hard and tried to ignore the sickening sweet smell of bubble gum. My voice shook a little when I said, “You told me to call you when I was ready to make a wish.”
    “Yes?” she said. Immediately, a sharp edge cut beneath the slutty cheerleader parody.
    “I need your help for my audition. I need to sing and dance like a star.”
    An avaricious gleam leaped into Teel’s green eyes. “I can do that. What are your other two wishes?”
    “Three,” I said, immediately wondering if Teel was putting me on. “My other three wishes.” Was this cheerleader babe really the same genie as my policeman?
    She shook her head strenuously enough that her ponytail almost took out an eye. Her pom-poms rustled as they settled on her hips. “One—singing? Two—dancing?” She clicked her tongue in exasperation at my apparently poor math skills. “That leaves two more?”
    “Singing and dancing are one wish! They’re for the same goal, for getting into the same show.”
    Teel cracked her gum loudly enough