Page 7 of The Lucky One

Rain was pouring down but Natalia and I were safe and dry under the Walmart canopy.

“Who’s got you smiling like that?” Natalia took a drag from her half-smoked cigarette. A snake tattooed on the side of her neck peeked out the collar of her black shirt. Her Walmart vest was tagged with random Sharpie doodles, a skull next to a flower next to a monkey.

“Jon’s coming back tomorrow.”

“Oh, I know. You’ve been counting down the days for the last two weeks.” Natalia took another drag of her cigarette. People scrunched their noses as they walked past, but she gave them a glare that made them walk faster.

“The slowest two weeks ever.”

She laughed. “I bet.”

Natalia and I had been friends ever since Jon brought me to her and Dave’s New Year’s party. She didn’t go to our school and we were from different worlds, but that didn’t stop us from getting along. She was also the only one who actually wanted me to be with Jon. When I told her that, she said she had a weakness for rooting for the underdog. Now she had to bear with me unloading all my Jon talk on her, but for some crazy reason she didn’t mind.

“Mrs. Lenson, let me help you!” Natalia called to an elderly lady with a walker. Turning to me, she whispered: “She tips me when I help her. Meet me at the register?”

I gave her a thumbs-up, and she tossed her cigarette in the ashtray and bounced through the rain to assist Mrs. Lenson.

Natalia was the one who’d got me this job at Walmart. Working alongside her distracted me from overthinking. What had initially been her smoke breaks soon became mine too. I leaned my head against the brick wall, lighting my own cigarette and taking a deep drag from something I knew was harming me. I promised myself I’d quit again when things got easier.

My phone vibrated and I brought it up quickly.

Paul: Can’t pick you up today, but Mom will

I stared down at the text, my breath catching. Those few minutes with Paul in the car, even though we barely talked, were moments I held on to. No matter how fleeting, they meant I could at least see if he was okay.

Me: Okay

I paused a moment at Seen, then quickly added another message.

Me: Thank you for letting me know :)

Again, my message was seen within a second, but no three dots dancing at the bottom. My chest ached as I realized he was serious about what he’d said last night.

“What am I supposed to do?” I mumbled to myself, watching the cars coming and going in the parking lot. Last night I had yearned to give Paul answers, but when I saw the dinner table setup my stomach had turned nauseous. If I had told him the truth I would’ve given him hope—given myself hope for something I shouldn’t feel anymore.

My heart pounded faster as I pictured his pained face, and I had to take a deep breath, triggering a coughing fit. Smoking had lost its calming effect on me. Now it scratched and squeezed my lungs, like it used to when I was a little kid sneaking into my father’s office.

Paul and I shared a connection that I didn’t fully comprehend. When he’d reached for my hand, I wanted to nuzzle my nose into his neck and remind him how much I cared for him. But I couldn’t do that. I had made my choice. I chose Jon. I loved Jon. My feelings for Paul...

I couldn’t compare them. They were different. But that didn’t change the fact that my feelings for Paul were still there. Paul was a good guy. He had saved me from the Stones’ place, given me a new home. I owed him. I couldn’t just toss him away like he meant nothing.

I knew well enough from my mother how easy it was to fall for the wrong one. But what he’d said about Jon breaking my heart—

“Ouch!” The square had burned down to the bud, and the hot ash fell on my hand. I wiped it off and tossed the stub into the ashtray. My phone vibrated again: Danielle’s name on the screen. I took her call with a quick swipe. “What’s up, Danielle?”

“Hey, girl! I felt so bad about our talk yesterday. Want to hang out? Jon’s not back yet, right? We could research prom dresses...”

My mouth twitched up. This was the first time she had mentioned Jon without a sour note. “I wish I could but I’m at work.”

“I don’t understand why you took that job,” she said. “You could’ve done something more fun than packing grocery bags!”

“It’s not that bad. And I got it thanks to Nat and her connections, remember?”

That was only half the truth. It wasn’t about fun for me. Bagging groceries was easy, with little room for error: heavy items on the bottom, delicate ones on top.

“You could’ve done something that would look good on your resume. Like I do at the barbershop.”

I bit my lip. The truth was, I had no idea what I wanted in life. Heck, I didn’t even know which country I’d be living in at the end of the school year. “I don’t have a passion or a goal like you, Danielle,” I said, trying to keep my emotions in check. She started to argue but I cut her off. “My break is over. I’ll call you Sunday, okay?”

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