Selfish Elf Wish Read Online Free

famous.
    Timber was the lead singer of a boy band called TLC Boyz from the time he was eight until he was twelve years old. He toured all over the world and sold tons of records. Until his voice changed. And his parents divorced. And his manager stole most of his money. And the band broke up. Same old story, he likes to say when I ask him about it, but it’s new to me.
    I think the problems his fame caused are the reason he’s never tried for a comeback. Like the old pro that he is, he takes the chanting and clapping all in stride, pressing his hands together in front of his heart and bowing a little as if to thank the people who might adore him or might be making fun of him. Before I got to know Timber, I would have thought his actions were fake, but now I know he’s sincere. He knows what it’s like to have a million fans and then how it feels to watch what you thought you had crumble into little bitty pieces at your feet. So whenever people applaud, he’s grateful.
    Unlike anyone else who’s sung today, Timber owns this stage like he built it and lives on it. While the rest of us jumped around, desperate to pound our songs into people’s minds, Timber is smooth. He hangs back and never rushes through a note, a move, a moment. Time slows down when he sings this song about the rain. I’ve never heard it before, but he told me it’s by an old New Orleans R&B singer named Irma Thompson.
    I look out at the crowd. No one yells or screams because everyone is mesmerized. I see why he was a star and how easily he could be again if he ever tried. There’s something about him. I don’t know how to describe it, but it’s the thing that makes my stomach flutter and my heart race when I catch a glimpse of him in the hallway or when I hear his voice on the phone. Despite that, watching all these people fall in love with Timber makes me wonder if he and I will ever be more than friends.
    I look over my shoulder at Bella. She stands off to the side, alone, one arm crossed over her belly, propping the other one up so her fist covers her mouth. I see real sadness in her eyes, but she’s not crying, and this sends a chill down my back. I don’t know if she was ever really in love with Timber or just liked having him around, but to me, it looks like she’s calculating how she’s going to win this audition and then get Timber back. Life is all casting to her, and in her mind, she and Timber should always get the lead.
    She catches me staring, but I don’t look away. It’s like my father taught me when we hunt. If you’re in the middle of the forest, facing down a mountain lion who wants the same buck you’ve got in your arrow sights, look them in the eye and let them know you’re in charge.
    Timber’s voice, climbing up and up now, ends our staring contest. He’s center stage, head back, eyes closed, arm up, microphone cocked to his mouth. The golden light bathes him as if the sun has broken through the night sky to illuminate only one thing on this earth. “I wish the rain would hurry up and stop,” he sings, letting the very last note quake before he snaps up, smiles big, and drops down for a bow.
    There’s a half-second pause, and then the crowd goes berserk. Kids are on their feet stomping and clapping. Anybody else would either fall down from the power of this reception or let themselves swell up until they floated, but Timber only shakes his head and presses his hands over his heart, mouthing Thank you over and over again as he makes his way offstage.
    But Mr. Padgett pulls him back to the center of the stage. “Give it up for Timber,” Mr. Padgett says into the mic. Timber bows again, then motions to Mr. Padgett, as if he should get all the credit. Mr. Padgett laughs and slaps Timber on his back. Then he slings an arm around Timber’s shoulders and Timber does the same to him.
    “Vomit,” someone says behind me. “Why don’t they just make out.”
    I wrench around to see who’s talking, but everyone is