Page 129 of With a Little Luck

“There is no magic,” I state firmly, contrary to everything I’ve felt for eons now.

“Disagree. There is definitely magic,” says Pru, which is just about the most un-Pru-like thing I’ve ever heard her say. She turns back to Quint. “So? How do you do it?”

“How do I prove that I’m worthy of … magic?” he says, struggling to follow the conversation. “Or love?”

Honestly, I think we’re all struggling to follow the conversation at this point. I know I am. How areyoudoing? Holding up okay? Wondering about all those things I promised way back on page one, like the grand adventures and the epic quests and a love that inspired the music of bards?

Stick with me. We’re getting there.

“Yeah, sure,” says Pru. “Either. Both.”

To his credit, Quint seems to give the question honest consideration. “Well,” he says slowly. “I … guess I take a risk. I tell her how I feel. Or show her somehow.”325

I open my mouth to tell them both that, yeah, obviously, I’vetriedthat, but something holds my tongue.

I never had the magic on my side after I realized how I felt about Ari. I’d already lost the dice by then.

“So who is Jude in love with?” says Quint. “We’re not talking about Maya, are we?”

Pru ignores the question. I can feel her watching me, but it takes me a long time to dare to lift my eyes.

“Jude?” she says. A question in her gaze. “In the wise words of Sir Paul McCartney … you have found her. Nowgo and get her.”

I grimace, then grab my pillow and throw it at her as hard as I can, but Pru catches it easily, laughing.

“You did not just quote ‘Hey Jude’ at me.”

“Come on,” says Pru. “I have been waitingyearsto use that line.” She tosses the pillow back on the bed and snatches up her planner. “So? Are you coming or what?”

I want to insist that it’s too late. I’ve already tried. I’ve already failed. I am destined for a life of solitude and misery.

But I know, deep down, that these are only excuses. My heart, desperately trying to protect itself.

My modus operandi. Self-preservation at all cost.

But much as I hate to admit it … Pru might have a point.

And also Sir Paul. I guess.

“Yeah,” I say. “I’m coming.”

326

Chapter Forty-One

“What do you think?” I say, stepping into the living room.

They’re all there. My parents. All four sisters. Quint.

And their expressions are … mixed.

Pru raises an intrigued eyebrow. Lucy looks horrified. Ellie claps and squeals, “You’re a pirate!”

I look down at my outfit. Black slacks and the loose linen shirt that I wore to the Renaissance Faire two summers ago. I decided to forgo the cloak. And the wide leather belt with velvet pouches. And also the sword. So really, I think I’ve shown a lot of restraint.

“I said to put on a shirt with a collar,” says Pru.

“This has a collar.” I pull on the wide collar to prove it.

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