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The rules of the wishing fountain were very simple:
- First wish is always for 1,000 wishes.
- No wishes containing the word “all”. (Guaranteed ironic consequences.)
- Don’t waste wishes on the impossible.
- You can’t unwish a wish. (What’s done is done.)
- Don’t mess with people’s emotions.
- Be specific. (This is the most important rule.)
There was another rule that remained unspoken but had always been acknowledged by both boys, up until this year, that is. They’d promised that first year to make all their wishes together and so began their tradition. But now that that unspoken rule had been broken, then perhaps it’s okay for Abed to bend their other rules. (Bend, not break, because what is he? Britta?)
Abed had slipped out that evening, a handful of pennies clutched in the pocket of his hoodie. He’d hoped the chill of the unusually cold summer’s night would be enough to discourage the wish he knows he shouldn’t make, but if anything, it propels him forward.
Maybe it’s because this is his last year at Greendale, or because there’s so many unknown possibilities the current situations of his life now poses, or just maybe (though he’d never admit it to anyone, let alone himself) it’s because he knows he’s losing Troy.
Troy’s relationship with Britta had, unbeknownst to everyone else, created ripple effects. He’d lost the Dreamatorium as a result of Troy and Britta needing their own room, and although they pretend the small cardboard version they’d made in replacement is just as good, they both know things are different. He’d lost his bunk buddy, their midnight conversations only occurring in hushed whispers in front of the TV when Troy wasn’t too busy to watch Inspector Spacetime.
He doesn’t know if things will ever go back to the way they were.
It feels odd to stand before the fountain by himself. It distinctly reminds him of that first year when he was pondering the benefits of his first wish being to make friends. But then Troy had walked by, and turns out he didn’t need a magic wish to make a friend. He just needed to be himself.
He recalls that afternoon, memory vivid in his mind as though it had occurred just earlier that day. The sun highlighted the concentration on Troy’s face, with his eyebrows furrowed and his tongue poking out, the pencil tapping against the notebook in anticipation as they’d devised the list of rules to ensure the least amount of consequences. (Abed still has that list hidden safely away in his Spanish 101 textbook.)
A sudden whip of the wind causes him to pull the fabric around him tighter, as if a sharp reminder not to dwell on the past.
Abed pulls the pennies from his pocket and does a quick count, before tossing one in and wishing for 6 wishes.
He utters the first few in a rapidfire. “I wish I understood my emotions.” “I wish I knew why it feels like I’m losing Troy.” “I wish Troy wouldn’t leave me.” “I wish Britta wouldn’t steal Troy away.”
He pauses, before dropping the next coin in. “I wish I wasn’t jealous of Britta.”
He thought the admission would somehow feel freeing, but he just feels cold and heavy; weighed down like he’s one of the coins in the fountain.
Deep down, he’s aware that neither the water nor the coins contain any magical properties, but that excitement in Troy’s voice when he’d first proposed it as an activity for them to do helped him keep the pretence up. In a way, it’d be like breaking Troy’s trust if he broke the rules.
But, a voice reminds him, remember Britta’s new rule: no rules. And perhaps that was the only good thing to come from the break in their tradition.
With that in the forefront of his mind and before he can think better of it, he’s extending his arm and the words, “I wish Troy loved me back,” fall from his lips.
The penny drops with a feel of finality, and watching as it sinks to the bottom, Abed thinks that if this were a movie where wishes did come true and he’d just broken one of the rules, the music would’ve swelled. The camera would’ve been situated at the bottom of the fountain, his face clear and visible with the significance of what he’d just done evident on his features, before the penny hits the surface and falls rapidly towards the camera, sending ripples that break apart Abed like the emotions that war inside his head.
And if this were a movie, we’d see Troy in the distance, running towards the camera, evidently out of breath as he comes to a stop before Abed. The words “I love you, too” would fall from his lips before he grabs Abed by the waist and pulls him into a show (and heart) stopping kiss.
But this is reality.
So when Abed’s phone chimes, and the screen lights up with a message from Troy, his heart skips a beat, a small but daring part of him secretly praying the fountain is magic. But then his eyes scan over the text, and his heart plummets.
Hey Abed! Going out for a date with Britta. Probably be back late. Love you buddy :-)
His wish may have come true, because Troy does love him, but Abed forgot the most important rule: be specific.
Because real life may be kind, but it is also twisted and never so generous.